Summertime fun for me means beach, naps and napson the beach, while my wife—a creature infinitely more engaged in the social side of life—is already gearing up for the Cape Cod Hydrangea Festival.
In a matter of weeks, homeowners are scheduled to open their gardens and grounds to perfect strangers like her who come to ooh and aww as they gaze upon these blossoming besties: the bigleaf, panicle, oakleaf ... so many varieties of hydrangeas, so little time.
I tagged along last year, and many of our stops were breathtaking, from the stunning greenswards to the beautiful mansions to those bushy palettes of brimming with pastels.
All that oohing and awwing got me wondering why our lovely cottage couldn’t join the fun. Ours is hardly a mansion -- in fact, closer to a tiny home -- but worthy just the same. Call it the People’s Stop on the Hydrangea Tour.
Of course, we have hydrangeas, maybe three, although that last one could be a weed. The number isn’t important.
It’s the quality, and at least one of the three is a real beauty. Its sepals are first-class. Yes, that’s actualhydrangea terminology. If you don’t believe me, ask our Garden Lady.
This plant is perched next to the steps leading to the side door of the cottage – which is where we’d startour tour with some hydrangea fun facts. For instance, in Japan, the plant has come to symbolize the apology – which is why I gifted my wife the real beauty years ago on Mother’s Day – a perennial ``I’m sorry’’ for any bonehead move I make.
After a reference to the sweet Asian tea that’s made from one variety of hydrangea, I’d bring attendees out to our backyard to gaze upon our second notable feature -- our rescue hydrangea. Neighbors were ready to dig it up and dispose of it when my wife made space in our garden. The hydrangea didn’t bloom for ten years. My wife was crestfallen, and then it happened. Sepals galore! A hydrangea miracle if there ever was one.
At this juncture, I’d point out our not-so insignificant army of mermaids, frogs and starfish among the flower beds, including the pride of our collection: a larger-than-life-sized wooden bust of a sea captain with beard, fisherman’s hat and all the grim stoicism of a man in charge. The captain was purchased on a whim at church yard sale. But nobody has to know that. Instead, I’d tell of the time – completely made up for festival purposes – when he brought his wife on a trip out to sea. The poor woman was swept overboard during a storm, and, as she disappeared for the last time under the unforgiving waves, she cried out: Don’t forget to water my hydrangeas!
Which brings us to another fun fact: Hydrangeas need tons of H2O. In fact, hydrangea, a term coined by Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeaus, is a compound of two Greek words: water and vessel.
Next on the itinerary: a confession. At other stops the utmost care is to keep their hydrangeas happy. But there have been times when I’m alone and my wife calls and says please water and that doesn’t always happen. I’m kind of busy with those naps and trips to the hot dog stand and such. I think we can all agree that it’s easy to become obsessed with our hydrangeas, and I just won’t let that happen. It’s not healthy.
Finally, our last stop on the tour: the patio for questions and refreshments. Anyone expecting tea and scones will be disappointed. Remember this is The People’s Stop.
I’m thinking Jell-O shots, pink and blue.
