When I was little, my family used to visit my great-aunts (Beatrice and Marjorie) at their old property on Cape Cod. The place was really lovely - wild roses growing up a wrought-iron railing, raspberry bushes, pine trees and sweet little flower beds with pansies - and only once, I saw a single blue morning glory in a tangle of green vines.
I have a notoriously brown thumb, but morning glories seem to grow without any help at all, and so I've had some at almost every place I've been since then. There were even some growing wild outside the church on my wedding day.
This year I have a veritable jungle of morning glories in my backyard: a daily delight.
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