The vase

I was going to write something about this yesterday, but, you know, events, dear boy, events.

The Sunday dinner book, which you probably can’t make out, is The Liar’s Diary, first novel by Patry Francis. Started reading over dinner and I’m thoroughly enjoying it. But that’s not what this is about.

The two best days to buy flowers on this island are the day after Mother’s Day and the day after Valentine’s Day. Thus I have a dozen half-price red roses on my table. They’re holding up pretty well.

The first time Mike came to my place for dinner, he brought a dozen red roses. (Blimey.) When I dug out this vase to put them in, he told me he’d known I was the type of woman who’d have the right vase for long stemmed roses. (Really?)

As it happens this wasn’t my vase originally. It was my mum’s. Along with her good dishes (see plate), I kept this vase after she died.

I have no idea when/where/why she bought the vase. I have no recollection of ever seeing long stemmed roses in her home. But she did like gladioli and they do need a vase like this, so I suppose that’s why she had it.

The vase is seldom used. Well, once a year for roses. I can be my own half-price Valentine, right?