Who thinks this stuff up? If you have flowers you are going to water them. I doubt that you need a national day to bring it to mind.
I love flowers. I just finished my planting for the season.
I have Cincinnati Reds red impatiens and royal purple torenia. I have drought-loving, yellow lantana and delicate, lavender angelonia. I have traditional marigolds (which are supposed to help keep hungry mosquitoes at bay), hearty vinca mixed with wandering jew, a smattering of magenta petunias and three hanging Boston ferns. I also have a lovely, voracious dark purple clematis that seems to grow two inches every day. It has climbed way beyond the six foot lattice and is heading toward the roof lines.
I put a substantial amount of money into my flowers every spring. But in truth, it is well worth it. They bring me joy from the moment I begin to roam the garden store in early May, to the planting (I do not wear garden gloves because I love the feel of the dark, rich soil), to the care and and feeding of them. I look at my flowers every day. I deadhead what needs deadheading and occasionally say out loud to them “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
Early this morning, with coffee mug in one hand, I watered my beautiful flowers. However, I watered only the ones that require shade; the ones that are sitting on my front porch and the four pots beneath the covered patio. I knew that rain was predicted and it sure did come through. We had a steady rainfall that quenched the thirst of the rest of my flowers. I could nearly hear them sigh in relief.
Needing a national day to remind us to water a flower is like needing a national day to remind us to feed our dogs or put on clean underwear or put gas in the car.
These things are built into us. They are second nature. They are common sense. Let’s save the national days for something really important like reminding us to call a great-aunt or return a library book or schedule an appointment to get our teeth cleaned.
Ah, which reminds me, I am due for a dental checkup.