Dahlias

We planted a row of dahlias along the driveway this afternoon, right next to a row of raspberries and across a ditch from where we seeded some sunflowers last week. It should eventually make for a stunning approach to the house.
It all came about by chance, chance that I seized upon immediately, and I'm glad that I did. The subject of dahlias came up some time last week, and Intern 2006 remarked that she was accustomed to whole front yards full of dahlias, and more dahlias, where she went to school on the West Coast. We both mused on how cool that would be, and wished we had some dahlias.
At market on Saturday, there happened to be a woman selling clumps of dahlias, and I bought some.
"Now I'm excited," Intern 2006 said when I told her.
We seperated the clumps and planted them this afternoon (with the generous help of J.B.) and had a great time doing so. It was something we did just because we wanted to do it, and that was all there was to it. We spent a few hours this afternoon doing something not because it would make us money, or because something was broken, or because something was starting to get annoying and it had to be addressed. No, we did it because we wanted to and because it would make the place pretty. It was a good feeling.
Things fade into the past. There are countless tasks that I've been wanted to get done for years, be it planting flowers here and there or moving something that's been lieing around or building something simple, tasks that never seem to make it to the top of the list of priorities, and, another year passes, and another and another.
The dahlia thing just rolled into my life and I got them into the ground. We were talking about them, we found them, and we planted them, all a bit serendipitous, but all perhaps guided by a higher power, and now we're just waiting for them to come up out of the ground.