Daffodil Daze

My mom has a thing for daffodils. When I was young she would pull over our mini-van on the side of the road and tell us kids to "hop out quick and pick as many as you can!" No matter if it was wild daffodils on the side of a busy road or the plantings to the entrance of a community.....spring time was open season on daffodils for her.

Perhaps it was because we had hard packed Georgia clay around our house and she couldn't grow daffodils of her own. Perhaps it was the thrill of the hunt, the capture or the fragrant bounty. Whatever the reason for her obsession, you could find my mom and her rag-tag band of daffodil bandits rounding up fistful's of ill-gotten-gains and speeding away in the getaway van on any given day of early spring.

Through the passing of the years my mom's love of daffodils has not diminished. Thankfully, however, her wisdom has increased and her conscience gotten the better of her. Instead of leading her grandsons down the path of daffodil infamy, this Grandma has been reformed and rehabilitated.

With better soil and a bigger conscience, my mom has given up her wayward past and decided to grow the daffodils right in her very yard.

So, with a clean conscience and a waiting vase, my mom sent Drew and Owen out to pick daffodils in her own yard. No getaway van and no adrenaline. Sadly, I think these daffodils are not as thrilling for her as the contraband of yesteryear. At least my sons won't have to go down the road I traveled.

Thanks for keeping my sons above the law, Mom!!!

I convinced them to switch from this basket...

to this (for obvious reasons)...

They were instructed to pick the flowers to have long stems (just as I was many years ago)...

Drew was the quality control officer. All short stemmed daffodils were rejected.

It was nice to see my boys picking daffodils without having to look over their shoulders. Although, Owen still did.

The sweet smell of a vibrant daffodil. There is nothing like it!