Yesterday, my mum had her last day at work and was given dozens of presents and cards, mostly flowers. Every room of the house smells of sweet scents of rosemary and spring. There are lilies, gerberas, daisies, roses, peonies, all in different shaped glass vases, dancing and growing and blossoming. I’m not complaining.
I will not be another flower, picked for beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget. – Eric Van Vuren.
Stop and smell the roses.
I’d rather wear flowers in my hair than diamonds arond my neck.
A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.
With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, whe could not be happy? – Oscar Wilde
Like wildflowers; you must allow yourself to grow in all the places people thought you never would. – E.V.
The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes. – Mark Nepo
If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever. – Alfred Lord Tennyson
Flowers can’t solve problems but they’re a great start. – A shop window somewhere
Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow.
Deep in your wounds are seeds, waiting to grow beautiful flowers. – Niti Majethia
I hope you’ve enjoyed this wee insight into my home at the moment.
Song for the today: Birds of a Feather by The Civil Wars (I promise I listen to happier music than that I’ve let on but the opening line of this song is so relevant to this post… There’s a teaser for you.)