The Calla Lilies are back, and I am happy to see them. I went to see Sue Lamberti at the Cambridge Flower Shop today, and she took me right to a bunch of yellow Callas. I loved them all over again.

Sue has been reading the blog and has a beautiful grasp of what kinds of flowers I want to photograph. We have become friends, and she is a good one.

Her shop was stuffed with beautiful flowers (Easter is close), and she quickly led me to some new yellow Calla lilies in a pot. I bought a pot of these flowers that I could take care of and then plant in my raised garden bed. I also got some other flowers. I can’t wait to misspell their names.

 

Curiously, Calla Gate was a turning point for me. I embarrassed myself by being stung by ridiculous people who got their jollies off watching my blog so that I would make another Dyslexic mistake. And I bit.

I wasn’t prepared for an assault like that; this group was unhinged and cruel at the same time. I was happy about my Calla photos; they brought me down. They cared nothing about spelling, only the people who mess up. Trolls have supernatural powers and know how to hurt, which is why they need to be ignored.

That’s what dries them off.

I also wasn’t ready for the outpouring of messages from scores and scores of people I had never heard from before and many who had. In the end, the snotty notes vanished, and people told me openly how much the blog had come to mean to them.

That shook me out of my fog.

They wrote the most beautiful messages of support for me, and they were distraught at seeing me almost voluntarily demeaned by the saddest people on the Internet. That is saying a lot.

I thank them for sensing my hurt, propping me up, and making me food good about myself. I want you all to know that I heard and felt your messages; they brought me back to myself.

They also helped me to come out in the open about my Dyslexia and stop being shamed by people with no heart or feeling for others.

I woke up, began laughing, and got my perspective back; I believe I drove the broken people off with indifference, a love of flower pictures, and a wise-ass disposition. I don’t like to argue, but I often love to fight. It’s a contradiction, for sure.

This was a significant turning point for me; I learned once more who I am and who I want to be. I ran off the obnoxious and broken people whose passion is writing strangers and trying to hurt them.

They’ve all gone away, cowards and shallow people at the end.

For a while, I was no better.

It’s easy for me to slip backward, especially when it comes to Dyslexia; it has been a soft point.

I am grateful for all that support, which woke me out of my trance and gave me the strength to see who I am and wish to be. I honestly didn’t know there were that many of you before. We are a community now, and think of one another.

I do not want to be a person who takes that noxious stuff to heart and runs from it or dignifies it by fighting with it.

Sue asked me if I was ready for another round of Calla controversy. No, I said, there will never be another controversy like that, not on my blog or my life. I learned some big lessons. Thanks so much for riding along with me on this astonishing journey. I am different from it in some ways. They did not harm me; they did me a lot of good, the very thing they hate the most.

 

I also got some other flowers and went right to work on them. I’m too distracted today to learn their names, but someone will let me know.

I can plant a new flower in the flower beds to keep it alive.

Sue’s flower shop is packed up for Easter, and there is hardly room to move around, but it is pretty beautiful. Sue hid in the middle top; she felt safer back there. Sue is a bit nervous about selling all those flowers, but I have little doubt that she will. She is the real deal. Thanks in no small measure to her, I’m on a roll.

 

 

I love the soft yellow. It’s hard to capture with a Macro camera, but I get there if I stick with it.

 

This flower has a heart.

 

Zip post-storm. I’m watching some birds from the back porch. He did not match them; they vanished high up into the trees.