Tag Archives: flowers

Ye’ olde family traditions

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Ye’ olde family traditions

When I was growing up, one town that I lived in frequently seemed to have an alley behind every street within its old city limits. We usually didn’t have much money and so when holidays came around like Memorial Day, Mother’s Day and Easter, instead of buying my family flowers (for them or their gravestones), my mother would drive down alleys letting me spot and cut beautiful escapee flowers.

It was really one of my favorite things to do. Lilacs are my grandma J’s favorite and so when those were still in season (depending on when Easter landed) we would scout those out first. I remember the joy and the feeling of responsibility I would get from riding with the door slightly ajar, no seat belt, while my mom would drive slowly down the alleys letting me jump out with scissors to run and steal flowers.

As a parent myself, I cringe at the memory…But as my inner child, I still remember the sneaky happiness. I am quite certain no one would have complained had they seen us cutting their alley irises or tulips, but it sure felt naughty which was part of the fun. There a few times they may have complained upon seeing me squeezing through gaps to reach beautiful flowers IN their yards but…..

I digress.

As an adult, and I use the term relatively, my bestest friend Pippi and I did the same thing. I even continued the tradition with my own children when I lived in that same town again. However I usually parked and walked or would follow the kids down the alley. (Traditions evolve you know.)

We haven’t found any alleys where we are now. Not for lack of trying either. Every year I see the flowers growing in spring and I mourn for my alley escapades.

I’ve seen some pretty gorgeous daffodils on a couple of shoulders and exits near my house though….they might just be fair game.

Happy whatever you do today!

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St. Patty’s AND Farmer’s Market kickoff? YES! Sláinte!

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St. Patty’s AND Farmer’s Market kickoff? YES! Sláinte!

After a rocky start this morning which included me not even remembering it was St. Patrick’s Day, I logged into Facebook (duh) and saw that the Vancouver Farmer’s Market was opening back up this morning! YAY

You know why “Yay?”

Because this:

Is all I have left of last year’s goat milk soap stores! Gasp!

So I went with the intent of ONLY buying goat milk soap, allergy honey and herb starts if they had them yet.

This was my favorite flower arrangement I saw and *GASP*

Not a lily in it! Digging the hell out of the blue-painted bristlecombs.

Fiddleheads! Shrooms! Welll, fiddle dee dee!

This guy is amazing. He caught me taking his pic and I only had larger bills so I couldn’t tip him so he insisted on taking MY pic as payment. i hope I am not on some website as the b***h that didn’t tip. I sent the male child back with a dollar when we left, just in case.

Big version of Bosley dog:

Her name was Gracie and she was an old lady!

people getting in my way of a good shot! Damn the luck.

HONEY!

The male child’s only request and his treasured prizes…

As herbs aren’t available there yet, I walked away with my soap and honey as scores…I didn’t buy ANYTHING else. I am so proud of my restraint.

Now I have money for drinking! HAZAH!!!

Happy St. Patty’s Day! Enjoy your American bastardized holiday! I will!

Husband Playbook Page 44: How to make up for being a freaking SCHMUCK

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Husband Playbook Page 44: How to make up for being a freaking SCHMUCK

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 So without boring you with all the sordid, scandalous details, my dear sweet hubby has been a real schmuck lately. For at least the last month or so. Maybe since Christmas even 🙂 Valentine’s wasn’t the best, my birthday had its moments. He did however buy me a bazillion dollars worth of couture shoes and a fancy dress off of my “never gonna get any of this stuff” wish list, so he got SOME brownie points; last night however, got him off the hook for quite a while.

This is how my evening went:

I was at school all evening and received a text stating I needed to call him when I got to my park and ride location and not to ask questions. So I did that. I got home and once in my driveway noticed a note in a ziplock bag hanging on the garage door (to keep it dry of course, it rains here all the blessed time).

I called to let him know I was here to which he replied, “Stay in your car, I will call you when you can come in.” I asked if I should get the note or not and he said “NO stay in your car and I will call you when you can get it…”

I can follow instructions so I did that…

He called and advised me I could come in. I got the note:

So I did as it said, came in, to see our house immaculate, lit with no less than 20 deliciously scented candles and fragrant star-gazer lilies; my husband was standing near the dining room table dressed to the nines gesturing me up the stairs and Stevie Nicks “Belladonna” was playing on the record player.

I went upstairs to find my magical new dress, shoes, another note (that you will not be seeing ;)) and my bedroom alit with candles, lavender and fancy stones spread about.

I wondered where the dog and kids were, but only for a moment; I came to learn (the Girl Child had to zip my dress) that they were all in on it, the Boy Child had the dog in quarantine, the Girl Child was pretending to be asleep.

I went downstairs and danced with my husband in my fancy shoes.

We ate a most delicious Italian tiramisu/trifle like dish he prepared all by himself from scratch that was layered with chocolate cake, pudding, whip cream, kahlua and toffee with hand shaved chocolate curls…

Paired with the most expensive, delicious, well researched Port I have ever had the pleasure of putting on my tongue:

Then we played a game of cribbage all dressed to the nines, drinking wine by candle light. I won. (It may not sound romantic, but it’s how we roll)

Then he switched the record to:

Side 2 😉

Things got a little hotter. And I opted for my spa/massage treatment. The rest of the night is mine, you voyeuristic freaks.

But I can say with all certainty, the massage had a happy ending.

SO. Here’s the moral of the story, Significant Others…

If you are gonna be a schmuck and try to make up for it with expensive trinkets, you better arrange a time for them to be worn or used and pair it with wine and flowers and music and dancing and food and candles and massage and letting the other person win. Romance helps more than the stuff. Just sayin.

Good luck, Schmucks.

Good job, Husband. You get to stick around for a while longer 🙂