Taken from an August 2004 Over the Hill:
“Where did you get these beautiful flowers?” I asked the woman, as I admired the stunningly beautiful poppies filling her back door garden. From a poppy seed bun, she told me, and I had no reason to disbelieve the woman. She was my mother-in-law.
The flowers were pink— not just an ordinary pink but a luscious glowing pink-rose. The stems glistened a pale green hue and the leaves were delicate, lightly scalloped. I wanted those flowers.
“I’ll save seeds for you. Just scatter them this fall and see what happens next spring.”
I followed my motherin law’s directions and dutifully scattered the seeds in the garden space next to my house.
And they grew. By mid- July, masses of vivid pink blooms filled the garden. People began asking me where I got them. I told them my mother-in-law’s story. They asked me for seeds and I obliged. I tucked them into envelopes and when anyone asked, shared my poppy seeds. These people, in turn, dispersed seeds to their friends. Within three to four years, my mother-in-law’s pink poppies grew in gardens throughout the area.
Joan’s pink poppies are once again thriving at her home on Devil Track Lake.
That was how I caused Cook County’s pink poppy rage of the 1980’s. I have never bragged about this feat and probably most people don’t remember these beautiful posies, but for approximately ten years, my (and my mother-in-law’s) pink poppies reigned supreme, and I was the regional poppy queen.
These flowers grew like dandelions. They spread in everywhere in my garden and yard. Alongside the driveway, against the garage, even the highway ditch was home to the bright pink blossoms.
Each year I saved seeds and each year my poppies’ popularity grew. They spread from person to person. Everyone, it seemed, grew the pink poppies whose ancestors came from a poppy-seed bun. Thecraze swept the town.
But like every empire, this one was doomed to end. After a ten year stint of these posies, I began to take them for granted. Although each year’s plants seemed a little weaker than last year’s, I really didn’t pay attention to the fact that fewer and fewer pink poppies were growing in my garden. Sad to say, eventually, I forgot about the poppy craze and the beauty of these flowers.
When I moved to my house on Devil Track Lake and started a new garden, I suddenly remembered the pink poppies and wondered where I had placed the white envelope of little black seeds.
Though I searched high and low, the seeds did not resurface. My mother-in-law lived in a senior apartment and no longer gardened, and though I scanned the local gardens hoping to spot pink poppies, I saw none.
Update: August 2009:
Carolyn Larsen realized the poppies growing around her house foundation were the same as those described in my 2004 column and gave me seeds. My gardener neighbor (who would probably like to stay anonymous) shared pink poppy seeds given to him by his daughter who lives in an older house in town.
As I did, many years ago, I once again scattered the little black seeds in my garden and to my delight, a crop of beautiful pink poppies thrived and now bloom. Pink poppies are finally growing in my garden, thanks to these two people.
Hard to believe it all started with seeds atop a poppy-seed bun.
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