HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT
Summer arrived yesterday and with it, the blooming of one of my favorite flowers—the daisy. Daisies evoke the memory of plucking off petals one by one while reciting the phrase “he loves me” and “he loves me not”. This, according to my older-therefore-much-wiser sister, was an accurate prediction of a young man’s affection. It’s a good thing we had an abundance of daisies when we were growing up, as she and I would perform this whimsical little ritual over and over until we got the answers we wanted!