day lilies and yesterday

A day lily now sits on the front stoop. This plant is more than just a decorative thingy to try and make the place presentable for Art Fair weekend; the day lily represents my childhood. Every time I see a palmetto tree I think of South Carolina. Every time I see a day lily I think of home.

Home for me, meaning subjects of memory, began on Waverly Island Road when there were very few houses around. For those of you who know the area, Woodland Farms was in the planning stages and the Easton Club was a good place to look for beer cans. The footsteps of my childhood fell upon some very special parts of this Earth and day lilies covered quite a bit of that ground.

My incredible work ethic derived from being told to go weed the day lily beds. I remember being drug out of the house, plopped in front of the gardens, and directed to pull out all the unnecessary weeds. There were many times when the distinction between what was necessary and unnecessary became too hard of a decision for me to make so I erred on the side of pulling it...whatever it was. Often, my mother vehemently disapproved of these decisions. I am sorry, but to me there are still no such things as "decorative grasses." If you were all green amongst the battalions of blooming day lilies you were gone from that bed.

Here is probably a good time for me to confess something so I do not lead anybody astray in their opinion of me as blossoming young man - I was not always so diligent at doing what I was told to do...

There might have been a time or two when my mother would lead me to location then go off to work on chores of her own. I would remain in a crouch as if ready to rid the mulch of invaders but as soon as I would see that red hair disappear from sight I was gone. Depending on what bed I was working on there was always Utopia just beyond my mother's line of sight. To the south was the mouth of Playtors Creek, to the north were the Segers' barnes, wonderful lush marshland full of wildlife bordered the east and west sides of the property. It was a win win situation wherever I ran to. That is until my mother came to check on me. My how her voice could carry across the whole neighborhood. I could not stand pulling weeds. The day lily soon became associated with misery.

After my hatred of all things associated with gardening developed, the day lily then initiated me into the world of culinary exploration.

One night at dinner a salad with all kinds of weird ingredients was placed in front of me. Me being me at the time immediately began to protest. I am not a fan of trying new things. When my mother told me what the ingredients were I asked if she was trying to poison me. Tiny oranges and flowers were not safe (these being mandarin oranges and day lily petals). And I hated nuts in everything. This salad was filled with walnuts. The woman was obviously unhappy with what God had provided her with a tried to off me through natural means. I refused to eat any of it and was adamant. Somehow I won that battle and only had to eat my broccoli and crabcakes.

Then one day I was sulking as I fell in behind my mother for another day of torture. Before we started working I remember she grabbed some day lily petals right off the plant and started eating them. I was amazed. I was also scared she was going to die. Seeing raw petals on a plate is one thing but having someone just eat them off the plant was another. Who knew what dreaded plague had spread across the wilds of Waverly Island overnight? However, when she didn't die I became intrigued. I thought my mom was pretty bad-ass to do something so cool as to forage outside of the doors to the Acme.

So I tried the day lily petals and they were absolutely horrible. They were as gross as I predicted they would be. But...as nauseating as they were I did not abandon the practice of eating them right out of the garden. Such an act often provoked spirited reactions from people my age. There were some fine looking young ladies growing up in the area and I would do whatever it took to try and look cool in front of them, even if it meant eating disgusting plants and having to keep from throwing up. Anything for a reaction...

When my family left the Eastern Shore and moved to Virginia the day lily beds were left in the hands of strangers. I was heartbroken. However, the house in Fredericksburg was soon surrounded with them as my parents completely refurbished a property that had been neglected for some time. I was happy to see the day lilies placed around the house. Even at a young age they helped take me away to better times and  places when being in a new area was a hard adjustment. They were a bigger help to me than that dipshit therapist I had to see.

In a new area meeting new people what was one to do to try and make his mark? You guessed it - eat the day lilies. In Fredericksburg when my friends and I got the munchies we ate day lily petals instead of potato chips but only if there were hot girls around. In my youth I rank day lilies just under marijuana and just above Virginia Gentleman bourbon in what helped me get through the tough times.

The day lilies were always there for me where ever my family lived. I cannot think about my childhood and not see them. Today they have faded from my mom's garden schemes. For some reason her tastes have changed and there are more things that I would have yanked out as an amateur landscaper. Now I have my own day lily as homage to a species that played such a pivotal role in my upbringing. I hope the damn thing blooms before the weekend. And don't think for a second that I won't pull off a petal and munch on it should the proper occasion arise...