Whoever built our house in the 1930s probably bought a job-lot of azaleas. Not anything I'd ever think of planting but it works gloriously. Every spring the front of our house is ablaze with a disneyesque riot of color. Fuchsia, magenta, red, white, all weave together in a fabulous display that stops traffic. Once they've finished blooming they fade into the background but when we eventually move their spring presence will be one of the things I miss the most. We've added to them over the years, dragging old bushes from demolition sales of Main Line estates - often one bush at a time shoved in the back of our Honda Pilot with the back door bungee corded shut. The display now stretches down the street and is echoed by those in the gardens behind. Our neighbors now plan their house sales to time with their blooms.
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