I like ferns. Don't know why really, but I think they are lovely. Ferns don't grow where I live. Maybe I like them simply because they are "different."
When we drove through Pennsylvania I was amazed at the forest floors. They were thickly covered with these gorgeous ferns. I repeatedly asked Rick to pull over so I could try to dig one up to have for my very own. I was teasing (sort of) and he was in a hurry, so I don't have a fern.
I was pleased to see that ferns grow here as well as in Pennsylvania. I walked around the campground today and took a couple of pictures. Monday when I was enjoying my time out with the girls, I said something about my fascination with these lovely plants. I even told them about how I bought a "silk" fern from Hobby Lobby just so I could have one.
Joyce said, "We call them weeds here." -----
I'm still trying to deal with the emotional distress. A voice in my head keeps saying, "You spent good money on fake weeds!"
I wonder if the Hobby Lobby here sells fake tumble weeds? And if so, would one of these New England folks buy one, thinking they had a thing of beauty? For just a little while I felt silly for buying a fake weed to decorate my home. But not as silly as I would have felt if I had actually tried to dig one up to haul around with me.
After pondering this a while I've decided that one woman's weed is another woman's prized house plant. So the next time I'm home I'll proudly blow the dust off my fake fern and thank the Lord that a Yankee didn't catch me digging weeds in the woods!
P.S Please continue to offer your thoughts on my writing assignment--the how-to article. (See yesterday's post.)
1 day ago