the too long tale of the peonies...

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.