There are many references to Queen Anne – tables and chairs, fiber and flora.
I’ll admit I haven’t a clue who she was or whence she came.
Was she a woman known for her thin, curvy legs, and clawed feet?
Such things to say about a monarch! “I say ol’chap, there goes Queen Anne, legs like Rita Hayworth and feet like a gargoyle”. Lesser words have led to losing one’s head.
And what of her flower, some might argue the plant is just a roadside weed, common and pervasive. Was she?
When I was a kid I would pick bunches of Queen Anne’s lace. When I got home…I almost wrote, “Upon my return home” – as if I’m important enough to warrant an ‘upon’…I’d carefully divide the flowers; a pile to be red, a pile to be blue…green…and then there was the inevitable mischief pile.
Each pile had a corresponding jelly jar filled with water and food coloring. Now the mischief pile was paired with the jar that received random drops of all or some of the food coloring and whatever struck my fancy that was sloshy and watery like. Sometimes boring old water, but mostly things like orange juice and lemonade…note: Queen Anne and Shirley Temple do not get along, at all. After a few hours a murder most foul is committed.
The mischief mixture usually looked like a color that should be named ‘Gollum’s belly lint’ or ‘Jabba’s Underbelly’.
But, Queen Anne and her lace always held a surprise – oh for certain the red was red and the blue was blue, even the green was green…But, sometimes the mischief resulted in what could only be called Smeagol blossoms…well it could have other names, but they’d need to be murky and crazy…but more often than not the cut flowers decided their own color destiny.
Sometimes embracing all the colors and producing a rainbow effect…or is that affect…no matter, it was lovely…other times the flower chose a single color to embrace, picking and prying through the selection in the jar before settling on just one to bestow its royal favor upon…the upon was needed here, we’re talking about a queen after all…
I like to believe that whoever Queen Anne was, she was the sort of woman who determined her own identity regardless of what she found herself hock deep in.
My Queen Anne was just the sort to turn mischief into magic.