I don’t follow the weather reports so imagine my surprise when I woke up yesterday morning and saw the rain pouring down outside my window…
Not just the rain, it was a storm. The soaring wind thrashed the trees just outside my windows so hard that it looked like the trunk would give up at any moment and break into pieces.

On the brighter side, the plant has been kind to me. Monday we got the very first bloom. We didn’t want to jinx it so we pretended we didn’t care and wouldn’t give it much attention.

After that, it seemed like a new flower thrived through the husk by the hour.
Yesterday there were three flowers. Today, five!
There are many more in the making! We are going to have a full bloom by Christmas!

Looking back at my old posts, it was only weeks ago when we searched through the kitchen, found this glass container, poured water in it and filled it with stones and, of course, the onion like bulbs.
Now look we got! Why can’t everything in life be as easy and rewarding as this?

at least, that’s what they would be one day……
both my painting and the real plant….that is.

Right now… the plant is doing great, growing and changing everyday.
But my painting is struggling.

Narcissus means Chinese New Years in my book.
Grandpa planted them in a flat rectangular blue ceremic pot filled with water and brightly colored stones.
He planted them at just the right time so they started to bloom couple days before Chinese New Year.
Different plants, same paperwhites, every Chinese New Year.

A sofa bed would be setup for me next to the big desk where the paperwhite sat. That’s where I slept everyday.
Then one morning, the plants would be gone. Water would be drained, too. Only these brightly colored stones and the blue cremic pot were left.

Then, and for the rest of the years, we had to go on without the smell of paperwhite everymorning. The pot and stones were hid away in a dark closet somewhere waiting for next Feburary to come around.
Couple weeks later, my winter break would be over, too. I would head back home with my parents. The sofa bed would be back to being a sofa in grandpa’s study.

Now, that is a page from my childhood.

As I am recounting all these details, I realized why it was nice being a kid.
Everything seemed so grand!! The big desk, the blooming flowers, and grandpa!