The Flower Quest

September 26, 2015

Obtaining flowers isn't usually much of a problem here. I see them when scooting on my garden route*. Earl has developed a green thumb and is cultivating some on his own. Friends and neighbors are a good supply. I have developed a reputation in that I never met a flower I didn't like. Bottom line: Flowers make me happy and I always have places for arrangements**. But, when Earl suggested that we go to the Dahlia Festival in nearby Canby, we had decisions to make. Nothing is simple these days. Did I really want to go?
1. Was this event worth the effort? Answer: Yes
2. What's the best vehicle***? Answer: Skeeter would allow me more unassisted mobility.
3. Would my bladder last 3 hours? Answer: Probably

Portland and surrounds, like many cities, holds one celebration or another for its flowers. From June through August, there's the Rose Festival, the Tulip festival, the Iris Festival. They tend to be ADA compliant, accommodating, and welcome people with disabilities. Fortunately, we had experience with the variability of compliance and kept our expectations low****.

It was the last day, warm weather, with entertainment, food, and beverage provided. That spelled C-R-O-W-D-S. But, we had weathered Disneyland***** with the help of Skeeter and survived, so we ventured forth.

The Dahlia Festival was very crowded with lots of parking, but the handicapped spaces were already taken. Once I'm on Skeeter, it doesn't matter how far away parking is. But the drivers of big trucks couldn't easily view me at 'scooter' level. It didn't seem fair to have Earl incur the risk of being my lightening rod. I normally don't assume that I'm seen by anybody, but this parking lot required extra vigilance.

While Earl went into some of the tents to get dahlia growing advice, I elected to stay outside in the less cramped and good people-watching areas. It was interesting to observe some people meet my eye and smile (mostly small children), some avoid eye contact or just not see me. I had discovered early on that most people don't give disabled people a second thought. I reminded myself that I wasn't as conspicuous as I felt and just needed to get over it.

Swan Island Dahlia fields

When we entered the 10 acres of dahlias, I was struck by the variety of conveyances. There were strollers, walkers, scooters, wagons. The sponsors had cultivated a wide hard-packed grass path through the dahlia fields. In addition to people of all ages, sizes and abilities, I had to navigate around dogs of all ages, sizes, and abilities. As in Disneyland, I just moved slowly, paid attention and (for this venue) kept an eye out for dog poop.

"So," Earl asked, "what colors do you prefer?" I do tend to gravitate toward warmer colors. He likes the cool pinks, purples, and reds. The dahlia might be the perfect bloom because it is so varied and can satisfy every flower lover's taste. But when it came to buying cut flowers, we went to our corners, bought two 'mine and yours' bouquets and a third compromise white bunch to divide up in floral arrangements. I selectively point from Skeeter while Earl makes the purchase.

Dahlia queen bounty

Being disabled, I have no expectations put on me of successful gardening skill. Providing me with floral bounty falls primarily (not exclusively) on Earl's shoulders. We thought everyone was experiencing a low growing season this year. Even the dahlia princess thought her annual harvest was down. It's not that Earl can't grow flowers. He's just not in the award-winning category.

But the dahlia queen wasn't having the same results. She just kept sharing her flowers as Earl stared at his tall, lush, but bloomless dahlia plants. In all fairness, I'm thinking he just has late blooming dahlias. Our roses are lovely. However, the rosebush was a gift from the dahlia queen. Earl can bite that humiliation bullet.