Peonies

As far back as I can remember, we've always had peonies.  Mom has called them 'pine-ys' and that's how i've known them, until likely a few years ago--when I learned the name pronounced 'pea-o-nies'...though my mom still calls them 'pine-ys.'

Peonies have always had a very special place in my heart.  I can remember cutting them and taking them to the Grove City Cemetary and putting them on Grandma & Grandpa Jahn's graves.  I can also remember driving around and that being one of the first flowers I really recognized--and thinking how neat it was that so many houses had them growing and HOW they chose to grow them.

Some were in rows, others in clumps...some in beds, others as accents, and some yet--way, way out away from the house--which I never understood.  They were too far to be able to smell them, and it seemed likely no one would trek out there to cut them either.

Cutting peonies has always been a treat for me.  My mom would cut them, wrap the stems carefully with wet paper towels, then foil, and take them to Granny.  Later, she'd do the same for me--once I had the condo.

In the last few years, mom and I have even expanded her Peony collection and she's added a couple new varieties.  Growing up, we mostly had white, with one brilliant raspberry colored one--always the treasured flowers of the bunch, though, not as fragrant as the white.  Those were the ones that made the whole house smell amazing.  Eric and I chose to use them as the ONLY flower for our wedding.And now...I got to cut peonies from mom's yard last week with my little girl.  The flowers at the top (where Amara is in the background) were cut by us.  Hopefully, she will love these as much as we have, and signs are good--i've had a vase of these magical flowers in her room since they were in bloom, and when the petals fell off the first batch, she asked me to "put them back on."   I've been replacing her bouquets as new flowers bloom, and I think this year, we'll all be a little more sad to see them all go.