When I was a child my Dad often called me Daisy Mae. I cannot tell you how many times I heard him say “Put your shoes on Daisy Mae”. I hated wearing shoes (still do) and every time he turned his back; I would kick them off. For those of you too young to remember, Daisy Mae was a cartoon character in the Sunday Newspaper who was always barefoot.
My Dad also sang all the time when I was young. His song for me was “Daisy Bell (Bicycle Built for Two). For that reason, daisies have always had a special meaning for me. The field of flowers where I got stung by a bee when I was around three years old (in my Yellow House stories) had wild daisies. Many of the places I lived growing up had wild daisies or at least something that resembled daisies. I often picked them and braided them together to make a crown to wear on my head, which only made Dad call me Daisy even more.
Throughout the years I have collected a variety of things with Daisies on them. If you walk through my house, you will see a variety of daisy reminders. Outside is another matter. I have tried planting them but for some reason the only last a few years. Several times it was due to having repairs done on the house and they got trampled on and supplies laid on them when we had new siding put on. Other times one of the dogs dug them up.
I gave up trying to plant Daisies after a while. I thought about planting them again this spring, but we got sidetracked with rebuilding our back porch. One day this spring while out helping with the porch and working in the raised beds I noticed some blooms growing among the weeds where we stack our firewood. They looked like little miniature Daisies. I picked some for a vase in my kitchen every so often until I stopped seeing them.
Yesterday when I was outside just enjoying the wind blowing through the trees in what I think of as perfect weather, I noticed they were back. This time they came up between our fence and our neighbors. I took pictures this time but did not pick any. I left them because I liked the way they looked along the fence. Daisies will always remind me of my Dad. I like seeing them when I walk out back each day and I will probably plant some in the front next spring along with the cone flowers that look so much like pink Daisies to me.
As I started writing this, I thought I should use my app PlantNet, and find out what exactly they are. It turns out they are Michaelmass Daisies. So, I have my daisies outside after all.