Today marks the third day in a row where I've come across geraniums - either in person or via photograph. They immediately make me think of my Father, who had a collection of geraniums in various terra cotta pots in his home office growing up. They dotted the window sill in hues of pinks and reds, next to a bookshelf chalked full of CDs, cassette tapes and stereo equipment. Along with his boat log, chappy motorcycles and pretty much any possession relating to any said water sport, his geraniums provided him with great joy - and were not to be touched. I learned this the hard way when I "borrowed" a few of his geraniums to spruce up my backyard at my summer pad in Newport. When my parents came over for a barbeque after a night out on the water, my theft was revealed. I was scolded and told to promptly return them to their rightful, nurturing proprietor. To my credit, the potted geraniums made a fabulous addition to my backyard.