i've always thought the yard full o' violets was one of the cool surprize things about this cheezy dump of a house. dale bought it in the fall, so i didn't know there were violets till the following spring when they came peeping out. so many. a bonus.
that year i wasn't living here yet because i had a lease to finish out, so i was moving in very slowly, in stages. i dug up three of the corms or whatever they're called, violet roots/bulbs, and took them back to my apt and planted them in a plastic cup of dirt on the windowsill. they died pretty quickly of course, violets do anyway. but i remember how they made me feel happy for a minute, and hopeful that i *might* actually have a chance at a Decent Life after all despite everything previously seemingly conspiring to get in my way and wreck my planz. at that point i didn't think i would ever have a decent job, friends who were actually cool and not jerks, love the way i wanted it (not how some jackass guy wanted it).
the next door neighbor is an older lady and prissy about her yard because she's retired and has lots of time to work on it.
last year she hollered at me, "Look at all those VIOLETS you have! They're weeds, you know. Didn't you know that? I worked so hard getting rid of mine!!"
well no, I didn't know they were weeds, and i don't care.
i'm probably a weed too.
the flowering kind