I have a little container garden at the side of the shed and every time I go out the back door, I have to give it gander, just to see how it’s doing. Sometimes it’s only for a few seconds if I’m on my way to do an errand, but I can’t leave without at least giving it a glance. It’s absolutely irresistible and always lifts my spirits. I’ve planted six large boxes of begonias and four smaller ones of coleus, and everything did so well this year! I impressed myself! 
Which is not to say I’m in any way knowledgeable about gardening. You could fill a library with what I don’t know about gardening, and when something actually grows in spite of my ignorance and neglect, it’s entirely due to the hardiness of the plant, not anything I’ve done to keep it alive.
So on this Sunday past, as we were leaving for church, I gave my pretties my customary once-over and was astonished to find bright yellow daisies in among the Bada Boom White and Bada Bing Pink Begonias, and no, I’m not making up those names. I only had a moment, but I took a closer look, and sure enough, daisies! The Mister was already in the car waiting for me and when I got in beside him, before I even closed the door, I said, “You won’t believe what I found in one of my flower boxes!”
“What’s that?”
“Yellow daisies!”
“Is that remarkable?”
“Kinda. I planted begonias.”
“Oh. So how do you account for that?”
“I have no idea! It’s kinda like a miracle or a mystery or something. I don’t know anything about daisies. Do they come from a bulb or a seed? If it’s a bulb, then I’m completed flummoxed, but if it’s a seed, maybe the wind? Or no! I’ll bet it’s those stupid squirrels! They’re always digging in my boxes burying things. I’ll bet you the little rodents buried a daisy seed and it’s only just now come to flower, and…”
I looked over at his face and noticed he had rolled his lips between his teeth, a gesture he employs when he’s trying not to smile.
I stared hard at him and asked, “What did you do?”
“What what?”
“You’ve done something. Out with it!”
“Madame, that you would even think such a thing does me a grave injustice.”
“I’ll give you a grave injustice. What did you do?!“
He let himself smile.
“Well, remember those flowers your Yaya sister Heather sent you from Nova Scotia?”
“Yeeeeeeeeeessssss….”
“Yes, well, you seemed so sad when we had to put them out.”
“Aaaaand….”
“And the daisies still had some pretty good colour left in them.”
“Sooooooooooo….”
“So I relocated them.”
I gasped.
“And you let me go on and on about it like an idiot? Nasty trick to play!”
He looked wounded.
“Hardly. Had you believing in miracles for a moment, didn’t I? Not the worst way to start a Sunday.”
I tried to smother a smile, and failed. We drove along in silence for a moment, both staring out the windshield.
“You realize of course,” I said without turning my head, “I will get you back for this.”
He laughed softly.
“Wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t.”
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