I was just out spending a few minutes weeding my fledgling flower garden. Violets have become the bane of my existence.
They are spoken of poetically, and I suppose for the two and a half hours (per blossom...) in which they are actually in bloom, they are pretty, nicely scented (although you need quite a handful to catch that scent) and delicate looking, they are worthy of poetry.
The rest of the time they are a nuisance! They spread both by seed and by tuber. I have spent two seasons now trying to get them out of my flower bed, where left to themselves over the past ?? years they have done their best to choke out everything else.
Today, I recalled something my grandmother once said. She commented on the irony that girls named Violet tended to be, well, strongly built. Not at all delicate.
As I continue to roust the purple peril from my flower bed, I think having strong girls named Violet is perfectly appropriate.
But I would rather consider the lilies...