The Schlumbergera buds keep emerging in my cool workshop.
I bring them up when they bloom, so I can enjoy them in my office.
I really love the bright colors on a dreary, cold day.
Hundreds of buds are waiting to burst open.
It’s like flower fireworks for New Year’s Eve.
Happy New Year
Flower
Things should appear as they are.
I do not agree with augmentations to make things appear like we wish them to.
I usually hold up blooms so I can photograph them.
But that is not their normal posture.
I wanted to capture them as they are, hanging down like chandeliers.
I placed a mirror underneath some orange blooms.
Now you see what the hummingbirds see.
Reality is lovely.
Love what is in the mirror.
Flow
My family has spent our holiday in the hospital.
Before you sigh and try to start a pity party, you better sit down to read this.
They found some cancer in my daddy’s eighty-eight-year-old colon last week.
It tried to kill him, but my daddy has too much to do yet.
So a surgeon removed it on Christmas Eve.
Then there were many complications. We were afraid.
I spent Christmas night in ICU watching lights and hearing bells.
It was rough, but the nurses and doctors pulled him through.
Do not feel sorry for my family. God came to us.
Even to me; an undeserving, stubborn, sinner.
So Santa was a surgeon and the elves wore name tags.
We all got exactly what we wanted.
All wrapped in shiny foil.
I am headed south to serve holiday ice from a fine styrofoam cup.
There is no where I would rather be.
If you did not get the present you wanted this Christmas, we will share ours.
Happy Holidays
Flow
Thanks to Dr. Dobson, Dr. Patel, Ashlee, Laura, CJ, Jay and dozens of other wonderful healthcare professionals who spent the holidays with my family.
Is that an angel at the top of our Christmas tree?
Wings spread wide hovering over the twinkling lights.
NO!
It’s that crazy bluebird again.
Happy Holidays from Flower and friend.
I notice everything. It’s my way.
There is a lot of loudness in our culture.
There is too much flash, shine and bang.
Everything is competing for your attention.
The television, your computer, your phone.
There is too much noise and sparkle to process.
So I choose where my focus is.
I choose the whispers.
The truth does not need to scream.
Reality is real without the shriek and shimmer .
If you feel blasted by life.
Pause.
Focus.
Listen to the whispers.
That’s your soul talking.
Love Flow
I just brought this up from my unheated workshop.
I love how it has blushed pink. It reminded me of one of the fairy’s dresses.
The blush can be seen moving down the buds.
When the blooms finally open, only the tips are white.
I think this is gorgeous coloration.
I do love the whites, but their blushing is pleasing.
Flower
I purchased a new type of wreath frame this year.
It has greenery covered wires attached to the rings. This will make it easier to attach and remove fresh greenery.
I collected snips of greenery from my Christmas tree and holly and ferns around our property.
I used the little green wire arms to secure these pieces to the frame.
There were two tiers of arms to give the wreath depth. They were long enough to wrap several times around the stems.
Now we shall see how well this new ‘Work Wreath’ holds up in the elements.
Happy Holidays
Flower
My Schlumbergera collection is blooming a little late this season.
I have various colors. I will always love the red for Christmas time.
My three favorites are white, gold and salmon.
Both the gold and white blushed pink this year.
I went out of town for Thanksgiving, so I think the temperature dropped in my home.
I have read that getting cooler than 57 degrees Fahrenheit causes an increase in pink and red pigments.
I may experiment with a gold and a white next year to see if this is true.
Many more buds are forming in my workshop. I should have blooms through the New Year.
I so appreciate flowers this time of year. It’s another dreary, rainy day here. Bright flowers help my mood.
Hooray Schlumbergera truncata!
Flow
Well that didn’t last long, twenty-four hours tops.
When we arrived home yesterday evening, Barley and Charlotte were at the French doors looking in.
I cracked open the door and Barley wedged his fat little fur-ball self through.
Why such weak resolve Flower you ask?
I would rather WORK than WORRY.
I was awake several times during the night wondering how much the temperature had dropped.
Then I heard noises outside and wondered if it was some predator breaking into the pen.
About dawn, when I was awakened by Mr. Bluebird pecking at the window,
I had the thought that if Barley’s bottom was all ready wet he would get chilled and then $ickne$$ would follow…
So they are inside where it is warm and dry.
Anybody want to assist in a Bunny Brazilian over the holidays?
A FOOL and her bunnies are not parted.
FLOW
floweralley 