Smells, um, lovely...

     On Monday, my friend Betsy gave me a spring Hyacinthus plant.  It looked about ready to bloom.  Though I hope to live greener each day, the least green thing about me is my thumb.  So I was concerned I would do something to kill the thing.  I watered it, placed it on the round table that butts up to my desk and hoped it would bloom in spite of my lack of skill.  (Betsy told me I couldn't kill it; her thumbs are the greenest I know.)

     After school on Wednesday, I was working with my third grade tutoring group.  The scent of the room changed so much I figured one of them had gotten into Grandma's perfume.  They left, and the scent grew stronger.  I realized the plant was blooming, springing really, it opened so fast.

 

 

     On Thursday, when I got to school, the scent in my room was overpowering.  I had to move the flowering plant all the way across the room because my eyes were watered as soon as I crossed the threshold.  I watched the kids all morning to see if it elicited any allergic reactions.  I told Betsy she might have to take it from me.  We made it through the day.

     On Friday, I could smell it before I opened my door.  But it was a joy to see the second bloom opening.  It was only on Friday that the kids noticed the room smelled differently.  And they liked it, so we kept the plant. 
     A scent of spring in February, not matter how pervasive, is hard to let go of!