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Should I feel guilty?
Purposely killing a living thing?
Being fickle?
Don’t mistake me. I am crazy about poinsettias. I love them. I suffered under the poisonous poinsettia myth for a couple of years. When I discovered the truth, and no longer needed to fear for Kate’s safety, I was thrilled to welcome them back into our home. Other than our Nativity, poinsettia plants are my favorite way to decorate for Christmas. I struggle to think of anything more festive than the poinsettia’s scarlet foliage.
But–it’s April, not December.
And my huge poinsettia plant, which was a well-spent ~$17 at Costco in December 2008, was still a bit too healthy. The problem: even if the April Fool’s joke in these parts is snow on the ground, I want to believe that Spring will come–that Spring is coming. Daffodils say that, poinsettias do not.
I don’t live in San Diego. There was no possibility of returning it to nature.
Will the daffodils scent the work of death on my hands?
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