Old woman, I am.

This afternoon I joined my father and stepmother to go to an African violet show. Upon entering we were each given a slip of paper and pencil to vote for the people's choice award. We take such responsibility very seriously in my family. Up and down the rows we went, carefully examining all the gorgeous and unique specimens. The honor court was especially impressive. We finally made our selections, each independently choosing a different plant. After that we made our way to the sale table. I narrowed my favorites down to two, whereas my parents waffled endlessly. Finally, I paid for my one, Starry Night Blue, and left my parents to pick out theirs. The older woman making the sale offered me invaluable advice on caring for it. She told me how she'd only gotten into raising African violets a year ago. Now she has around 40 plants at home! She took me around to show me some of her plants, including two in the honor court. One of them was the one I had voted for!

Now I just hope I can keep my new plant alive and flowering. I have one old and very small African violet that hasn't flowered in years. The lady suggested that I replant it in a smaller pot to force flowering. My interest in African violets started during my sophomore year of college when I lived alone in a basement apartment. I finally succeeded in getting one to flower on my window sill. When I happily phoned my father to brag, he congratulated me on officially becoming an old woman.