BLOOMING

Error is only the opportunity to begin again, more intelligently.
Henry Ford


My grandmother grew African Violets in her kitchen window. They bloomed almost constantly. My mother and my mother-in-law grew violets, too. A few years ago, I decided I wanted to carry on the tradition.

When I start something I tend to get obsessive so I bought books, soil, fertilizer, plants and pots. The few plants I didn’t kill, never bloomed again. I tried every trick I heard or read abou. The plants didn’t bloom.

After awhile I gave up. I had kids to raise, a home to make, and books to read and write.

I still bought plants that I couldn’t resist, trying to grow them spasmodically over the years with no success. My life was busy, often hectic and I thought they were labor intensive and I just didn’t really have the time for them.

Several years ago I noticed a lush double pink African violet on a shelf at my neighbor’s house. This friend’s plant was thriving. I knew how busy she was. She worked outside the home, had a challenged child and a challenging husband on the city council. What was her secret?

There was just no reason I couldn’t have African violets blooming in my window.This time I wouldn’t give up.

I tweaked one thing after another trying to get my plants to rebloom. I bought new pots that wicked water to the plants from the bottom. I used room temperature water. I moved the plants to the most light-filled rooms. I used specially formulated African violet soil and fertilizer. I added hydrogen peroxide to the water. I asked advice from those I knew were successful and applied every hint that made sense, and even some that didn’t.

And…I stuck with it, giving the plants a chance, whispering words of encouragement. I followed a simple, consistent schedule of watering, rotating, fertilizing.

I’d heard that African Violets have resting periods after blooming, so I learned to have patience. I tended those plants. After all, it only took a few minutes and the goal was modest.

African violets bloom consistently on my file cabinet. It’s no fluke. They’ve been blooming now for years.

What worked? I don’t know.

But I suspect persistence mostly. It could have been moving them, it could have been the room-temperature water, or the new pots. I’ll never know. Maybe, the time was right. Maybe, they were finally ready. Maybe, I was. Maybe, it was just not giving up.

What has this to do with writing? Everything.