When I was growing up, I remember watching my mom plant pretty flowers in the front and back gardens. I loved how Mom would use interesting containers as planters: a half barrel, a cracked toilet, an old wood burning stove. One flower that got planted every year was portulaca. Mom loved them for the bright, colourful blooms and the ease of care. I love them for similar reasons, but I mostly love them because they remind me of my mother.