I have lilies in a tall vase

Stargazer lilies are, no question, my favourite flower, as anyone who was at my wedding might have been able to guess.

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I used to buy them weekly; huge, exuberant, unnecessary blooms that lifted my heart and, with any luck, detracted from my less than stellar efforts with making the house look nicer in any more of a lasting, meaningful way. But a while back my vase, my one suitable vase got broken. I think it was my eldest son who was responsible and I think I’ll have to probably dock his pocket money, if I ever get around to actually giving it to him and not just fashioning vague plans involving star charts and chores.

Anyway, since then, my trips to the florist have gone one of two ways: I either remember the absence of a suitable vase and end up grudgingly buying something that I love less than lilies (I mean, any flowers are good, obviously; well, unless they remind you of someone bothersome or odious that is…) OR I exercise my talent for wilful ignorance and buy lilies, only to get irritated on my return home by the lack of a suitable vessel, and by the poor display made by jamming them all into a defunct-by-virtue-of-its-missing-lid spaghetti jar.

Today was a special day in our household; an anniversary, one that deserved lilies and deserved to have them properly displayed. It’s not a hard thing to buy a vase, and I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to get around to it; nor do I know why it took a mention of Emporia on a local blog to get me through the door, since I’ve gone past them a gazillion times when out running. Anyway, today I was determined that my Stargazer lilies would be comfortably vased, if I may fabricate such a word. So to Emporia I went, and a vase I bought, and a treasure trove of gifty goodness I found within a short jog of my front door.

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It’s funny, but little things like shopping locally give me quite the happy glow these days; one that I think will add to the pleasure I take in my flowers as they unfurl over the course of the week, as my daughter hovers at the ready with the scissors to “snip out the stainy pollen bits that would’ve ruined your wedding dress if the flower lady hadn’t done it Mummy.”

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