buy yourself some flowers

i don’t buy flowers for my wife. and she doesn’t buy flowers for me. it’s not because we don’t love each other – nor is it because we aren’t romantic and thoughtful of one another. we just happen to not do the flower thing. besides, i’m picky about flowers. i don’t like roses. i think they are the cookie-cutter symbol of insincere love. i would choose a clutch of home-cut gardenia’s from tutu’s garden any day of the week. or 2 big, sunshiny, HAPPY sunflowers from the farmers market on a saturday AM pit-stop.

these beauties have lasted all week. they’ve reigned over the chaos of our kitchen table; watched me pull out the sewing machine for the first time in 3 years and then take 2 hours to hem 1 pair of my wife’s slacks, towered over the stacks of “things to send to shortstack” in his next care package, guarded the sack of perfectly ripe and luscious mangoes that aunty jeannie has shared (& we have devoured – just a hint: mango/strawberry smoothies are the PERFECT way to start of a summer morning!), and stood witness to the culinary creations that were successful (spaghetti with meatballs and lasagna) and those that were ho-hum (read beans and sausage stew – crockpot style).

the point of this is simple … when you want flowers, buy them for yourself. don’t wait for someone else to randomly read your mind or have a need to express some sort of deeps-seated emotion in a commercial-driven manner. pick up a couple of stems and feel yourself smile. until then, we hope these make you smile … from our little ‘ohana to you and yours …

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