morning, glory
My sister emailed me with a "Little House" question this morning, but I don't think she realized it was one.

She said she had planted morning glories. The vines were taking over, but there had been only a blossom or two; what was the problem?

From On the Banks of Plum Creek, Chapter 2, "The House in the Ground" -- All around that door green vines were growing out of the grassy bank, and they were full of flowers. Red and blue and purple and rosy-pink and white and striped flowers all had their throats wide open as if they were singing glory to the morning. They were morning glory flowers.

For the record, morning glories typically take about 120 days to bloom. And they like poorer soil and water only when beginning to wilt. Skip massive doses of fertilizer, too; they seem to flower better when stressed. Seeds have to be planted after the soil warms up because they won't germinate in cool soil.

It's the days to blossom that got me to thinking. According to Charles Ingalls' preemption papers, the family settled on the claim on May 29, 1874. And there were supposed to be riotious blossoms of morning glories, which germinated, say, on February first? I'm sure there are varieties of morning glory that bloom in fewer than 120 days, but there would have had to have been an awfully early spring in 1874 for them to be blooming in May.

It's not like Mr. Hanson started the seeds inside and planted them at the door to "dress the place up" in order to sell (er, trade) it. There was no Mr. Hanson. There was no trade. This was a preemption claim, remember, and according to the land records, it had been relinquished two years before Charles Ingalls filed on it. But it makes a lovely story, and Laura paints a lovely picture of morning glories just the same.

And if anyone ever greets you with, "Morning, glory!" the required answer is, "Evening, star."
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:19 AM