The other day, Vicki and I were talking about gardening and I mentioned that years ago I planted a rhubarb. It is something of an heirloom plant – my grandmother always had rhubarb in her yard and would make pies, ice cream topping sauce and some kind of tart/sweet side dish (on the order of applesauce). It is also perennial so even though I really don’t harvest it, it comes back every spring and I get not only all the happy memories, but also the notion that I am a gardener. Although I threw in that trowel years ago.
So it turns out that Vicki shares a similar rhubarb sentiment and I offered to split some off and send it to her. Well, this is what I saw. I really don’t remember this happening in years past, but with the way my mind is these days, who the hell knows?
My rhubarb flowered!