I try to take a walk every day, during lunch hour. A few days ago, while walking, I came to a florist. I had been thinking about what I could get Tress for a special day this week so I decided to go into the florist shop to have a browse.
There were 2-3 arrangements each sitting in a earthen pot or vase of some sort and they looked timelessly elegant and even beautiful. They look better than the various bouquets. I made some enquiries and decided to send Tress an arrangement comprising principally roses, red and pink mainly.
The next day, I got a note from Tress, half chiding me for getting such a big bunch of floral arrangements. She took a picture and sent it to me although the picture didn’t quite convey the largeness of it all. That only came across when I got home and saw the monumental flora on kitchen island, towering and spreading to overwhelm everything else.
I smiled to myself. I know it’s big. I wanted it to be. 25 years is something you want to commemorate with something big.
We had hoped to take the Ghan from Adelaide to Uluru to celebrate the occasion but we left it too late and there weren’t suitable dates available. We couldn’t (I couldn’t) start the planning any earlier as I needed time – after all the planning and up-in-the-air restlessness of the weeks running up to the wedding in Canberra.
Uluru out-ruled, or more accurately, ruled out, even a very big floral arrangement felt not quite in the same league for such an occasion. Hence I had neither reservations nor buyer’s remorse, neither guilt nor any other negative sentiments for having decided to go with the hanging garden of Babylon now adorning an island in our home.
Frankly, it was all I/we could do. But do something I felt I needed to and I’m glad I did. 25 years and I loved every single day of it. I am ever so grateful.