
I am a desert girl.  I know nothing of flowers that like to hang out in the east.  Early last summer, it seemed I saw photographs of peonies everywhere.  I saw them adorning a bride's bouquet, on a lovely dining table or growing in profusion in someone's garden. 
 
I was sure I could grow them. I envisioned a garden full of gorgeous peonies, providing me with cut bouquets for weeks.  Maybe I would plant all pale pink and white.  I checked the internet about growing peonies in the desert and had no luck.  That didn’t deter me.  After all, I grow tulips and had been told they don’t grow here either.  I asked at the closest nursery and was told they don’t grow here.  I was sure that wasn't right so I went to my favorite nursery to talk to the experts, who truly know everything about gardening here and even sell tulip bulbs.  
The conversation went something like this:
me:  
Do you have peonies?
knowledgeable nursery guy:  
Peonies won’t grow here.
me:  
I know they would take some special care.
knowledgeable, patient nursery guy:  
Peonies won’t grow here.
me:  
I have a very shady area that only gets a bit of morning sun.
knowledgeable, patient nursery guy:  
Peonies won’t grow here.
me:  
I’ve had such good luck with tulips.
knowledgeable 
very patient nursery guy (smiling now):  
Peonies won’t grow here.

So I gave up my dreams of that beautiful peony garden.  I would console myself with seasonal bouquets of peonies.  I knew I had seen peonies at Trader Joe’s last year.  I have stalked their flower section for about two months now.  Not that I didn’t enjoy the ranunculus, daffodils and sunflowers that I bought while waiting but I wanted peonies.  They finally showed up last Monday.  I bought the last bunch, wishing for three more.  They were a deep pink rather than white or pale pink but that was okay.
I couldn’t wait for them to open…  
Monday:  in the vase
Tuesday:  looking dramatic but not opening
Wednesday morning:  first one opens, not looking at all like I had anticipated.  The smell is odd and not very pleasant to me.
Wednesday evening:  I find that when I get close, I am getting kind of an itchy feeling on my face.  I am sure I can convince myself to like the smell so I keep smelling them.  After all, they are peonies.

Thursday:  second one opens.  Despite a bit of an allergic reaction, I keep smelling them.  With only two blooming, the smell in my dining room is starting to overwhelm me.  
Friday morning:  We’re having guests for dinner tonight. I think I am going to throw out these peonies.  Thank goodness, I didn’t plant a garden of these things.  How could I get so invested in a flower that I had never even seen?  I don’t like peonies at all.
Friday late afternoon:  I’m doing the last minute cleaning and cooking.  We’re about ready. Before I throw them out, I take one last smell.  There is no unpleasant smell.  The deep pink has lightened to a beautiful pale pink and white bloom.  They are gorgeous. 

 I love peonies!
  
I know, I know.  They won't grow here.