Inadvertant Green Thumb.

About a year and a half ago - perhaps two years, even - I'd been on a bit of a gardening kick after roleplay chat had me sitting in Sunflower Fields on a regular bases. I'd hoofed it to Wal-Mart and paced around the Home and Gardening area. Amid my beloved but typical Gerberas and my filigree Nemesias, I saw these very unassuming and curiously-named flowers, Feverfew.

I picked them up, and worked very hard to till the soil, as below the topsoil in most parts of this state you meet clay. I carved this neat little cupcake-pan into the spot near this log and carefully lay them out. Later that night, it rained.
The next day, I ran out eager to see if they'd grown any only to see that the rain had pooled into the little clay spots and killed them at the roots.

Today, I walked into that far corner to paint the underside of the house. A few sprigs of Feverfew stood tall from beneath that log, having split through it's right corner. What an lovely and beautiful accident.

They smell like oranges.

I once told Hjalmar about having planted them, and that trait about them stuck out to both of us. Andy said he'd try growing them and succeeding where I failed...

Odd fact, they're used as fever-reducers and sleep-aids.

I'm tickled pink by the sheer coincidence of it all. I guess that was a regret of mine, having those plants die. What a lovely thing to find out they were simply incubating.