“The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs.”

In every room of our house, there’s always a vase with cut flowers in it. Doesn’t matter what season: even in the dead of winter, we’ll have pansies and camellias to bring inside to brighten up the place. We're fanatics about it. I'll spend lots of time placing flowers in every room, and Joe will ask me, in a concerned tone, "Did you remember to put one in the bathroom upstairs?" Horrors, "yes," I'll respond, and he will calm down immediately to hear that reassuring news.

People tell me we have a lot of vases, and it’s true; we do. I suppose it’s a weakness, but it’s an ailment Joe suffers from even more than I do. He’ll spy a vase that he likes and he just can’t pass it by. I’ll remind him that we have plenty of them, but it’s just an addiction and I tell myself that he really can’t help himself.

As for me, I’m certainly not going to turn down a new one. Some I've had for years, some friends have given us and some Joe surprises me with. Cut flowers won’t always last that long, but part of the beauty of flowers is their ephemeral nature, and that’s what makes them so appealing to me in the first place. We're fortunate that most of our cut flowers are from our own gardens, and we love them.

“You’re only here for a short visit. Don’t hurry, don’t worry. And don’t forget to smell the flowers along the way.” (-Walter Hagen)