On the coldest, rainiest day last week I could not stand the emptiness any longer.
Yes, I was alone again, but I am not talking about an empty house.
It was all those empty pots.
Their yawning maws were calling me every time I walked by.
I had tried to find the right pansies numerous times in the past month. I need a pretty face you see.
So on this dreary day, I ventured out to yet another location to scrounge for plants.
I stood in the pouring rain and carefully selected each six-pack of pansies (one viola).
When I finally brought my flat to the check-out, I was soaked and dripping.
The check-out person had obviously been watching my pansy picking.
“You must have really needed some pansies today.” she said as she checked me out.
“It was an emergency.” was my reply.
I feel a “Pine Needle Run” coming on next week.
I hope I won’t have to do that in the rain, too.
In America, we use this saying “the real McCoy” to mean the real thing. This means that whatever is being described is the genuine article; not an imitation or fake.
This saying has several possible origins including an oil-drip can, rum during prohibition or the famous feuding families, the Hatfields and McCoys.
I am using it here with McCoy pottery, which was made in Ohio from roughly 1929 to 1967. The company started alone, consolidated as ACPC, split apart and then regrouped again.
The marks McCoy and USA on the bottom mean it was made after about 1933.
These two pieces are from my dear maternal grandmother and maternal great grandmother who were both from Ohio.
The Turtle Sprinkler sat on a table in a corner window with my great grandmother’s African Violets.
The planter held some of my grandmother’s favorite plants. I wanted to photograph this before planting one of her plants back into it.
McCoy is a highly collected form of pottery, but don’t rush to e-bay just yet.
The Turtle sells for about $45 and the planter for only $20.
These two are worth way more to me in memories than money.
Winter is here in North Carolina. It’s hard for the plant people.
Outside is all browns and grays and cold.
To keep from going dormant myself, I have indoor gardens in pots.
I keep myself surrounded by green.
I coo and ooh over every new sprout or leaf.
Here are my upstairs gardens.
The downstairs gardens may be shared later, after a major clean-up.
For now, I keep myself alive by turning and tending these potted plants.
They reward me by continuing to grow, while everything outside is dormant.