I think it's fair to say that both Dave and I are worried about Mr. Happy. Mr. Happy started out small but rumor had it that if everything went right he'd push up a gigantic spike, with girth to rival its length, a veritable tower of pink. I've kept him in my bed since last spring, just waiting.
So I recognized him when I saw his picture along with his Personal Ad on the little tag in the nursery. He was in just a three-inch pot and he was a four-dollar gamble. The problem was he wasn't going to put out until his second year, and he wasn't going to have a second year if he couldn't make it through the first winter. For four bucks he was worth a try. Sometimes we never get much below freezing here. Back in November we'd already had a cold snap in the mid-twenties and I thought Mr. Happy was a goner, but he just got a little ragged on the edges and still seemed quite enthusiastic in the central well-hello-there zone. Temperatures rose to the forties and stayed there for weeks on end, and then this happened: lows predicted around twenty, for days.