The painted daisies finally faded and I emptied the vase. Usually I wait until they are crisp and dry and really depressing to look at, but the daisies were so bright and cheery, it seemed cruel. In the name of kindness and mercy, as soon as they were droopy, I sent them to their rest.
And what should appear? A new bouquet. Different flowers, different colors. I put them in the middle of the table rather than over on the wood stove.
Now that the late afternoon sun is blocked by our little air conditioner, it’s too dark over there.
When the air conditioner comes out of the window later this month, the flowers can move back to the top of the stove, unless, of course, we are having a little fire in it. I’ve promised myself that this year, I will buy paper logs so we can enjoy at least the look of a fire, if not the heat.