Flowers! I love them. I crave them. I revel in their obvious and hidden colors. But! Minnesota is tolerating, at best, the winter from hell. That would be frozen hell, and not the more popular hot hell my grandmother threatened I’d visit during some of my less than angelic days. (They were few in number, I promise.)
As an indulgence, nay, as a sanity saver, I’ve been buying inexpensive grocery store bouquets and potted bulbs forced into submission. I have them scattered about the house, and at my desk. I sniff, I look, I glow inside. What Minnesota weather hath taken away, flowers have restored in my frozen soul.