Before I left the farm today, I wanted to pick bunches of those daisies that grow in the field. Here is a better picture of them, which I took a few weeks ago while I was hand-grazing My Boy:
But I forgot. I was driving down the freeway towards home with my windows down and bang whispies blowing in my eyes and George Strait blaring and suddenly it dawned on me- oh fiddlesticks! I forgot to pick the bouquet of daisies!
You see, every spring I switch up the colors in my apartment. It keeps me from getting bored and having to spend money re-decorating. I have deep red pillow covers and other accents that I use in the fall and winter months. In the spring and summer, I change out the red to an aqua sea-blue. I bring out my favorite flea market finds: antique blue Ball mason jars. I love to fill them with fresh flowers. Sure, I can buy a bouquet from the flower department at any grocery store. But there was something charming about hand picking them from the farm meadow. It's so country girl.
I have nothing but noxious ivy growing on my patio right now. Then, I remembered that my landlord had planted rose bushes last year alongside the building. They happened to be in full bloom and were just a lovely pinkish peach color. Since they were planted and growing in front of my kitchen window, I figured I had just as much dibs on them as my landlord. I snuck around with a pair of scissors and snipped off a few blooms. I had to cut one piece off and ended up with two little roses, so I used my tiny vases for those ones.
I think they really added that special touch of summer color to my apartment.
I still really want those daisies, though. My Boy, will you keep a good watch on the daisies for me until Friday?