The Blues in the Night
...and a few ways to vanquish them
Well, thinking about flowers, for one. For me, just the thought of them helps. What wonders they are in color and architecture and fragrance! My favorite thing to do with flowers is to put one stem of many different varieties in several tiny vases, so that each blossom gets its due. This way, a tiny pink rose stands next to a daisy which is next to an iris which is next to some phlox, and so on. A mixer, one might say, of the highest order.
Yesterday, I went out in my yard as if I were entering the couture section of a fancy department store, by which I mean I deliberated very carefully. (I want to say that I am very nervous in the couture section of any store, and I never buy anything, because a skirt cost six million dollars, but I like to look there, as if I were in the rare animal section of the zoo.) Anyway, there are slim pickings in my garden now that the colder season is upon us, but I looked carefully, and there were still enough things to bring inside to make for a garden party. I gathered up seven things for seven vases. But when I went to arrange them, I found only six things. No matter. I had brought in some basil and tomatoes (is there ANY better summer dish than fresh tomatoes and basil, bathed lightly in olive oil, and sprinkled with a bit of salt and pepper? Maybe corn on the cob. Served together, you sit down to eat and hope no one comes to the door because you are divinely busy.) I put some basil in the last vase and when I set it down the other flowers said, “….Huh?” but soon all were getting along swimmingly, or so I pretended, and if there’s one thing I like to do, it’s pretend.
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