Monday, November 09, 2009

*flora and fawning.

I lost it a little bit in the past week—the wind at my back that was facilitating getting things done, feeling creative, greeting the world like a kid finding out how it feels to spin in her first party dress.

I still do that, granted, when Stella stumbles into one of her cockeyed accidental smiles, or when J races in a precise circle in the backyard with a look of fierce determination and a mouthful of old T-shirt for absolutely no conceivable reason.

However, I'm starting to wear a path of oblivion between the front door and the warm space beneath my covers where there are no stinking dishes, no unopened bills, and no insurmountable crush of laundry.

This weekend I mowed the lawn just so I wouldn't have to be inside. The Woodside, she is saggin'.

So when I looked around this morning, at the balled-up dirty socks and the partnerless shoes and the dust-gathering mail, I had a tiny coronary event. Then I mustered up all my powers of denial, herded the dog out the door, and wrestled into a sartorial mistake before heading out to work.

Whereupon I found this.


Beautiful, spirits-lifting flowers.


Flowers in pretty autumn colors.

laura flora.

Flowers that smell of warmth and coziness, peppered with foodstuffs.

fall flowers.

Flowers that weigh 15 pounds, necessitating a grinning, sweaty tromp from reception to the cubicle.


Flowers with superlatives I probably don't deserve, but wear with pride and not a little mistiness.

lovely notation.

Thank you, LSis. I love my flowers. They are currently occupying desk space formerly reserved for this thing they call "work," which I've shoved aside in favor of your lovely and too-generous gift. You really should be too tired for this.


What's Next? says:
at: 4:49 PM said...

How sweet is that?

at: 1:26 PM said...

I can't thank you enough for everything you have done.




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I am a work in progress. I perpetually need a hair cut. I'm totally devoted to my remarkable nieces and nephew. I am an elementary home cook and a magazine worker bee. (Please criticize my syntax and spelling in the comments.) I think my dog is hilarious. I like chicken and spicy things. I have difficulty being a grown-up. Left to my own devices, I will eat enormous amounts of cheese snacks of all kinds.