Earlier, I had mentioned how the Amaryllis had, after so many years, decided it was time to go forth and make preparations to breed. This it had determined to do, because it was getting old and the folks that owned it, that would be us, gave it an appropriate amount of fertilizer to make such things happen.
I also noted that I too felt a little fertilizer in the form of a cold beer might make me bloom. Well, it can be said that I did bloom (but not breed) in that I felt good about myself, not delusional nor misguided, but comfortable in my shoes. It was, after all, a metaphor. 
To slip away from the metaphor, it might be mentioned that a few beers can lead to breeding, possibly unintended, but in my case, being "fixed" has eliminated that possibility. Hey, baby, want to have a few beers and slip over to my place for a roll in the hay?" Same kinda deal, just not so elegant as the actual flower.
But smart ass as I might be, one can not but take note of this attempt to breed. Each day I get up and come down and marvel at the display put on by this Amaryllis. The only flaw in the system that I can see is that it is not outside where the accommodating insects, or I suppose humming birds, could revel in this wonder of nature.
While I like my original metaphor of noting the similarities between me and this flower, both of us blooming and all, it is now difficult to see where the commonalities are. I think it is just in the semantics rather than the visuals. It is spring and that is good.
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