As Far As Thieves Go

I've always admired our state flower, the California Poppy. I like the golden orange color and the way it suddenly appears in Spring, all bright and proud. It's hardy, as a good wildflower should be, and since it's a native it tolerates poor soils and sparse water.

Early Spanish settlers called this plant Dormidera, or the drowsy one, because the petals curl up at night.

When I bought my house it had two stained glass windows that depicted (or so I believe) California Poppies as they greet the day, curled tight and ready to unfurl. During my remodel I salvaged these windows and had them remounted in the dining room, with exterior lights set above for a striking evening illumination.

And to continue the poppy theme in the remodeled house I chose a new front door with leaded glass depicting a trio of poppy flowers. This, too, is eye-catching at night when the porch light shines through.

So clearly I'm predisposed to these flowers, and I've been intending to plant some around the house. On Saturday I went to the local garden center to get some liquid fertilizer and a sprayer; the front lawn's been looking a bit peaked ever since it was mowed a couple of weeks ago and I find spritzing it with some "fortified water" helps it come around. While there I came across the last, lonely California Poppy plant available, a fine, flowering specimen from the good folks at Annie's Annuals. Naturally I bought it.

As I walked home I thought about where to put the poppy, and decided it would do best in a pot on the front porch. That spot gets lots of afternoon sun and the bright flowers will look good against my beige walls. But Saturday was a busy day and I didn't have time to pot the plant. Instead I set it on the porch, its new "home," to be dealt with on Sunday.

I wake this morning, make a big pot of coffee, and head out front to get the Sunday paper. And the plant is gone. Some miserable, selfish, evil person has stolen my California Poppy right off my front porch. Immediately I'm angry. Not because of money lost; the plant was only $5. But because this theft was so unjustified. The plant won't provide anyone food or shelter, this wasn't a theft of necessity. Rather it was one of convenience, an item taken because it was easily reached.

I spend some time moping around, thinking I'll need to put up a front fence before I can even enjoy the sight of some flowers on my porch. Then I get angry again: there's no reason why I can't have a pot of flowers, and I'd be damned if some miscreant is going to keep me from adding a little color to my home. So I decide to get some more poppies and plant them in my largest, heaviest terra cotta pot and put them right on the porch.

Off I go to a different local garden center. I get three poppy plants, big and bushy but unfortunately not in bloom as their abducted cousin was, and some more potting soil. Back home I clean up the two biggest matching pots I have and get to work.

Unfortunately I've misjudged how much potting soil I need for these large pots; I can only fill one and the garden center has closed early for Easter. But no matter. I get one pot filled and placed proudly on the porch. It's my house, my yard, and I will have California Poppies on the porch.

Post	Reference	More Info
As Far As Thieves Go	Song by Blind Spot