A Vase With A Waist

It was for my friends Maryam and Karyn that I started picking flowers - a handful each week, shoved into a jam jar or a straight-sided jar that held spices.  A fist full of violets, 

A handful of daffodils.   Or three.

An armful of iris.

I'd always collected garden flowers for dinner parties, and I'm sure looking at the flowers lowered the expectations for the meal - surprise! dinner is delicious!  

But I have discovered I love having flowers by my bedside.  And on the breakfast table.  Fresh flowers, fragrant flowers.  My flowers.  Our flowers.

And so does Wally.

Sure, I go to Ron Morgan's classes, and to Bouquets To Art.  But mostly to marvel at something I'm not good at (yes there is something - finally - that I'm not good at.  Deal with it.)  

Some how, something must have sunk in - by osmosis? and I'm discovering I have quite strong opinions about flower arranging. And I am quite pleased with the result.

1.  From the garden please.  Gotta get something for those ridiculous water bills.  Use those prunings.

2.  Foliage is king.  You only need a few flowers (Ron) or maybe none (Shane Connolly).

3.  Airy Fairy is contemporary.  It's all the rage in London.  Shane is the master; I'm learning.  

4.  Fragrance please on the bedside table.  And no fragrance on the dining table.  (The moose doesn't care.  He's in the hall.)

5.  And!  (this is my best discovery)  Flowers look better in a vase with a waist.  At least mine do.

The next time I go to the flower market I'll be looking for vases with waists.  Leaving before dawn - call if you want to come along.