The “I haven’t haikued in a while” haiku. (I recognize that “haiku” is not a verb, but I just made it one. Deal.)

Writing a haiku

Doesn’t take much work at all

Count on your fingers

Let’s face the facts. It’s freaking Winter, there are no flowers or plants growing of any sort. (Now that is a blatant lie. I have arugula and other greens growing under a frost blanket outside – just trying to get  a jump on the Spring. Also, we have lemon, lime and kumquat trees growing inside and the lemon is flowering right now, but I can’t put it all in one blog post. Sheesh, I have to save my topics to s-t-r-e-t-c-h the Winter. Be patient young one.) So, with the lack of greenery, it’s story time. Get your Snuggies (or better, yet, your Forever Lazy with, “But-Wait-There’s-More” hospital socks) and gather ’round.

I love my Mother-in-Law. I do. She’s just difficult to buy for. I do pretty well with clothes, but it has taken me the entire 14 years of our relationship to figure out what she likes. So, in the beginning, she basically got things that I thought were, well, “Safe.” And for me, “Safe” means, “Plants.”

So, for Mother’s Day she would get a gift certificate to her favorite nursery so she could buy her marigolds and vegetable flats for the garden. For her birthday, I suggested to Keith that we buy her an Azalea. A few years of this went by, and her garden grew. Hosta, bleeding heart, tulip bulbs, you name it. One Christmas, maybe our third year together, I picked up a few Christmas gifts for Keith’s side of the family. One of them was an Amaryllis bulb kit. You know of that which I speak (write, type, whatever). Those boxes at the grocery store, mega-store, drug store for like $10 or $12. They come in red, pink, red with pink stripes. Put the bulb in the pot, pour in the peat (included!), put in the sun and then water it. A green stalk grows for about a month and then big, gorgeous blooms pop at the top. Lovely.

So, fast forward to Christmas Eve. We were opening presents under the tree at the in-laws and the wrapped, square package was handed to my MIL. As the paper unwrapped and it became obvious what was being hidden by the bow and red and green paper, I wasn’t paying much attention. And then, I heard it. “Another fucking plant.”

Yes, I wrote it and she said it. Well, we were stunned, and then we laughed our asses off. She didn’t mean it cruelly, she had a smile on her face. It truly was funny.

Since that fateful holiday, that phrase has become one of our favorites. We often find ourselves buying “f’ing plants” or moving “f’ing plants” or weeding out unwanted “f’ing plants.” And each year, I buy an Amaryllis in honor of the original. So, without further ado, here’s another “F’ing plant.” It just started to bloom this past week. There are a total of four blooms. Enjoy.

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