Before we left Colorado last week for our 48 hours in humid-hell Pennsylvania, I instructed my dad to please water my flowers. These flowers have been a point of pride for us, as they rather are the most colorful container display in the neighborhood, consisting of five various containers of mixed flowers, mainly petunias and geraniums.
Before we left, I noticed that the blooms on the petunias were getting sparse, even though I deadhead them religiously. I was a little worried leaving them in my dad’s hands, even though I knew he’d more than likely water them in the 90-plus heat.
When we came home, sure enough, the flowers looked worse. Where were those beautiful blooms we received compliments on all summer?
I watered them thoroughly but secretly gave up on them looking good again for the rest of the season. It was a little sad.
Overnight, masses of blooms appeared, in pinks, whites, reds, and purples.
Again, it’s a Sign.
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