On the other hand, my love for purple flowers has reduced my children to groans, eye-rolling, and the covering of one's face in embarrassment.
I'm sorry, but I can't help pulling the car over, running across the road and kneeling face to face with a bachelor button to capture its fleeting existence on my camera.
I refuse to apologize for standing over a large clump of brilliant irises with camera in hand on the way into the orthodontist's office.
Want to see one closer? Oh, good!
And who can blame me for neglecting to leave for swimming lessons until I've gotten just the right shot of the velvet purple of the petunias by the front steps?
Speaking of bachelor's buttons, I've always found them an extremely disappointing flower individually---kind of sparse, a little scraggly, too thin. But the way they carpet the ground en masse can make your heart downright ache. (Children do not understand this either.)
I found this happy tangle of purple at the edge of a field across the road from our subdivision. It is, no doubt, a weed but a sweet and delicate weed.
And the violas from my table are still blooming away as I cart them in and out from table to deck to table to deck every other day.
So, let the children question my sanity and murmur quietly to each other about "bizarre and erratic behavior." I'm blissfully oblivious, enthralled with the pleasures of purple flowers!