Sweet peas are the Birth Month Flower for April and thus, my own. According to the infallible Google, they symbolize “good-bye,or blissful pleasure.” I like that odd little comma sort of dropped in there and the combination of “good bye” and “blissful pleasure” may seem peculiar at first glance, but I think back on how many times at sex venues like bathhouses when I’ve announced “Oh dear baby jesus, that was blissful. Now get out” and I know there’s some profundity there.
I don’t know why April wound up with sweet peas, they don’t bloom then, at least in America. It does serve as a reminder that April’s about the time to plant the seeds, a fact I usually recall in June when they should be at the peak of their bloom. As usual, I forgot again this year and wound up with a bunch of seeds hanging around in July looking reproachful. So I decided what the hell, and planted them. It’s San Francisco, the distinction between April and July is kind of arbitrary anyway.
And they came up, amazingly. They were much slower than previous batches I’ve grown. Pea and bean vines both tend to shoot right up, it’s the basis for the Jack and the Beanstalk stories. Blooms finally came on, with their delicate, old lady scent and now here’s the very last one, on the first of December. Amazing.
I have diligently been harvesting the pods to have seeds for next April (if I remember,) but now I don’t know where I put them. Well, I have four months to find them and even I don’t, I’ll just put them in whenever they do show up.
Also, I know Monday was the so-called Cyber Monday, a shameless attempt by online retailers to latch onto the whole Black Friday shitstorm, but I like to think of it as “Throw Out the Goddam Leftovers Already Monday.” No turkey is so delicious you need to eat it more than four days running.