By the front porch steps of my childhood home, there was a huge hydrangea bush, whose blooms were the most beautiful blue I had ever seen. (Perhaps that was the beginning of my love for that color.) Looking back, I smile at the memory of my Mom always calling them ‘high geraniums’.
Through the years, I’ve planted a few hydrangeas, but they always bloom pink. Doing some research, I’ve learned that you can use certain products to change the acidity of the soil, which in turn, should result in obtaining the color blooms you’d prefer. But I’ve never attempted that.
Over the weekend, Motor Man and I took a little detour down a nearby country road. I spotted this beautiful blue hydrangea in someone’s yard, and asked him to stop, so I could snap a picture.
Just as I was taking the picture, an older gentleman came out the front door. I explained why we were stopped, and mentioned my Mom’s hydrangea. He said that this one had belonged to his mother. Motor Man asked if I could possibly cut one bloom. And the gentleman told me to help myself.
(A little side story, which I shared here on the blog many years ago: when I was a young girl, our church had a very active junior choir. During the summer, we’d often attend ‘hymn sings’ at nearby churches on Sunday evenings. I recall one evening (no air conditioning back then), it was SO hot. One of the ladies at this particular church had brought a huge bouquet of beautiful blue hydrangeas for the altar table. I just stared at those blooms and thought how “cool” they looked. And I couldn’t imagine any color being more refreshing. )
Meanwhile, my pink hydrangea has never had as many blooms as it does right now. Although it may not be my favorite color, I’m happy that it’s doing so well.
Along with the (two) blue ones we were allowed to cut, they make quite a pretty arrangement.
And I’m giving serious thought about attempting to alter our soil….
~These Days Of Mine~
these days of mine 