Your flowers are thirsty!

Just about the best surprise a girl could get in the mail on Christmas Eve!

Paperwhite

I bought myself a narcissus a couple weeks ago. I love its Latin name: narcissus papyraceus. When I got it, it was just a wee tot and was not blooming yet. Now it has many perfect, paper-white flowers, and my room smells a little-sickly sweet. That's daffodils for you.

roses aren't just red

Maybe it's a cliché (ok, I know it is) but I think roses are probably my favorite flowers. But not those things you buy at the grocery store, or even the ones you buy from city flower stands (though I've been known to buy my fair share of little yellow spray roses). I'm talking roses fresh from the garden, English roses, cabbage roses, wild roses, and Rosa Gallica Officinalis.



So it was with much joy that I was allowed to raid my parents' garden last week to pick a big rosey bouquet for my best friend. They are all so so beautiful, and they come in so many shapes and sizes and colors, and they are summer and green grass and birthdays and their petals are soft and you can eat them. What more could you possibly ask for from a flower?

as the greatest accessory

photo by Scott Schuman

more of mom's roses

close my eyes and I can still smell them

goldenrod

On my parents' farm, we grow all sorts of flowers. Besides selling them at the local Farmer's Market, sometimes we are asked to provide arrangements for fancy events (I made all the boutonnieres and corsages for the faculty at my high school graduation).



This was my favorite wedding we ever did I think: yellow yellow yellow, with a little white and green. I even got to go and buy spray roses, freesias and gerbera daisies from a local florist to add to the bride's and bridesmaids' bouquets. It was such a dream!

in my parents' garden

They know how to grow flowers.

peonies

Sunday I wanted to buy lilacs, but the flower stand I always go to didn't have any! So I bought peonies instead. They smell like roses, and are already dying.

california

Sometimes flowers can look like fried eggs and tomatoes (a proper English breakfast!)


and sometimes like big puffy clouds (or marshmallows).

fuzzy violas

On my stoop.

my home

This is where I spent my formative years, my parents still live here. Yes, I grew up in a rose bush.

Title Music