a rose is a rose I
Originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.
As much as I want to deny it–showing my hard-edged academic, goal-oriented, not afraid to get my hands dirty in the garden, self–I am a hopeless romantic.
Like this week when I was at Trader Joes (ostensibly buying milk and bread), these pale pink roses just called out to me. I bought them, put them in a crystal vase and sat them on the table, just admiring them. Just having them there made me feel so good.
Then there’s our bedroom…John and I got this super-lovely canopy bed from a fellow freecycler. I quickly pulled out a piece of pale peach silk from (that I’d received from my friend Carole awhile back), sewed up a coverlet, and put it on the bed. I plumped up the pillows, and smoothed every wrinkle. Beautiful! Recently, John and I also hung some curtains from the canopy–creating our own romantic (and private) space. It’s like waking up at a B&B every morning!
The practical side of me says “roses…they’ll die, what a waste of money.” But the romantic side of me says “Roses…how beautiful…”