I love tulips. I defy all women not to love tulips. Next to gerbera, they happen to be my favorite flowers.
I think I've loved them since I was a little girl and saw a very pretty picture of Thumbrella taking a nap in a red tulip in one of my fairy-tale picture books. I remember wanting that tulip-bed that the little princess had for herself. Really, really badly, too. How cozy it must be, I imagined, to be harbored in the petals as I lay sleeping. Even as a child, for me, a-girlhood-fantasy has never been of Sleeping Beauty or of Snow White. All they do is sing and die, and they have no control over their resurrection. They just frigging wait, sleeping as they do. What a bunch of lazy-assed princesses are they? They were powerless and dumb, then-me thought, and didn't contribute any thing to the whole story, really. For me, it was all about the little Thumbrella and her tulip bed. I still dream of a canopy bed partially because of this childhood fantasy.
Aside from the prologue I just ran you through, though, there is something very enduring about their shape. So, as I stepped into a grocery store after work for some veggies and fruit tonight, and saw some colorful bunches at the entrance, I just couldn't pass by them without picking the budding flowers of early spring.
Canary yellow was very cute, but tonight I took home two stalks of reddish pink with yellow tips. Amazing what a little color can do to one's kitchen, isn't it?
Until next time,