I love them. I used to despise them - the smell, the look. They reminded me of flowers in front of the stones in graveyards. They were too commonplace.
But then something changed - I noticed how the flowers danced above the foilage. I started liking all the garish colors. I started to notice their depictions in art and fabric design. I saw photos of them blooming unabashedly on the Greek Isles. I discovered the varieties with multi-colored leaves. And then, best of all, I found I could put them in pots and they didn't need much tending or watering. Suddenly, they were the plant for me. I bought these at Walker Farm up in Dummerston, Vermont. (If you're close, definitely a destination to travel to if you are a gardener.)
I over-winter them in my studio and they bloom all winter long. I pick the flowers and put them in bouquets in the kitchen when it is dreary and cold. Right now, I've got pale pink (for Julia), salmon, and and a hot coral. They make me happy all year.
I love geraniums now. It's funny how your taste changes over the years. But it does.