Tag Archive | flowers

Wish me, them, luck.

I did it. My little lovelies have now been lovingly placed in nice new soil, I have quenched their thirst and given them nourishment.

Thank you mommyx4boys for suggesting Miracle Grow, they are going to need a miracle with me as their caretaker!

Now, I just need to remember to water them on a regular basis . . .


I placed a guardian angel with the last remaining survivors from last summer. They are going to need one.

I hope they make it.

July 3rd I wrote about my unintentional, murderous inclinations. I held nothing back. It was a cry for help, I asked for somebody to stop me before my preoccupation with doing it again, (unintentionally of course), got the better of me, forcing me to indulge my ever-growing need. No one stopped me. No one even tried. That afternoon, everyone who read and did not intervene became unwitting accomplices as I casually stalked and chose my victims.


On July 5th I posted pictures of my captives. I hadn’t yet figured out what to do with them, but I vowed to care for them. I assured myself and my accomplices I would be more attentive. I didn’t get off to the best start obviously, as they were still where I placed them after bringing them him. I had the best of intentions.


Today is the 9th of July. You know what they say about good intentions . . .


I swear by my WiFi I will turn over a new leaf, so to speak. Today I will take care to do as I promised. I hope I’m not too late.

I couldn’t stop myself.

If you haven’t yet read, Please Don’t Judge Me, click the link, it explains everything. Sort of . . .


I couldn’t help myself . . . They were just there, unattended, so beautiful. I walked away with four this time. I’ll admit not getting off to the best start with them, but at least I didn’t leave them in the trunk. Again. I lined them up near the porch to get some sun and forgot about them, just for a day. Okay, a day and a half, but they seem to be fine.

Today I will begin the process of making them a home. I’m excited to get my hands dirty. I was going to buy new caskets pots to place them in, but the ones from last years lost victims flowers will work just fine.


Wish them me luck.

A day at the river.


More shoebox memories.

I remember this day so well . . I woke early and sat on the picnic table next to the tent we’d pitched by the campfire’s glow the night before. I just sat, watching all of God’s glory begin to stir. I spent most of that day in silent observance, I watched and I listened and I wrote throughout the day. I wrote of love, of memories, and questions often pondered.

At the end of the day I felt such peace. Tranquility washed over me as the sun set below the tree line. It was a beautiful, beautiful day.

The morning sun
brought the
flowers to bloom
along the banks
of the sleepy river.

They stretched forth
their petals
as if in praise,
while hungry bees
dined upon their
sweet nectar.

The glistening dew
that formed
in the night,
fell to the ground
for the thankful
earth to drink in.

sang out
in soft serenade
as they searched
the moist soil
for food
to fill the
mouths of their
hungry babes.

Diamonds danced
upon the surface
of the waters
while life below
began to stir
from slumber.

Trees swayed
in the soft
spring zephyrs
as the sun
peaked high
in the
afternoon sky.

Furry little
squirrels darted
to and fro
beneath the
shadowy shade
of the trees
they called home.

The sun then
slowly made
retreat from her
lofty place
to spread
rays of gold
the trees
bowed in thanks
as the sky
grew dim.

Mama birds
flew home
to their nests
to cradle
their young
in the warmth
of their wings
while the
crickets welcomed
the moon.

Fog again settled
over the river
as the flowers
tucked themselves
in for the night.

With bellies full
the bees
and the
playful squirrels
were at rest.

Once again,
dewdrops formed
as moonbeams
began their nightly
waltz atop the
once again
sleepy river.

Crystal R. Cook

*Credit for the photo above is unknown, at least to me.





Please don’t judge me.

Black thumb

Every spring I get this incredible urge, it lasts throughout the summer. It borders on obsession really, if I don’t satiate my desire it overwhelms me. Every year I tell myself, not again, but when the spring zephyrs begin to blow, I find myself searching for them.

I suppose I should call them what they really are, I have come to a place of acceptance with what I do. Victims. They are victims, innocent and unworthy of their fate, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot help but seek them out in an effort to fulfill this secret fantasy of mine.

I guess you could say I stalk them at first. Once I find one I think would be perfect, I admire from afar, building up the courage to take what I should not be taking. No one ever suspects, I don’t look like the type to be engaging in something so unseemly, it only makes it easier to walk away with my prey. Usually it’s just one at a time, but every once in a while I end up with more. It’s easier to do what needs to be done with just one at a time.

Last summer I went crazy for a week and ended up bringing one home every day, it was too much to deal with, they expired quickly. This year, I have so far resisted, my husband intervened after I was
caught dumping my last failure, his disappointment in me was heartbreaking. He stuck by me though. That man is a rock.

I’m not sure I can hold out much longer. My desire has become a need, a thirst begging to be quenched, a hunger screaming to be satiated. I think today is the day. There is no one around to stop me. All I want to do is nurture and protect, I convince myself I’m rescuing them but in the end, they all end up dying, buried beneath the damp earth in my yard.

I remember every one of them, how beautiful they were before I stole away with their life. I miss them, I just can’t help but think the next one will be different, I will be different and we will be happy together, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

If I could find an accomplice, a partner who would not judge me or interfere, maybe it would be easier. I can’t ask my husband and involving my children is out of the question. I should go to the authorities and just turn myself in, I just want to try one more time before I take that step. I have to believe I can make this work.

This may be a silly question, but . . . What kind of fertilizer do you use? Do you water in the morning or the evening? Potted or in the ground? Is there some special type of soil I should be using? Help me. Please, help me before I go to Home Depot and find more helplessly, beautiful flowers to kill again this year.

Don’t judge me. I try.

Crystal R. Cook