A Few Thoughts On My Garden Roses

They might be my new favorite flower, and not just because I (sorta) thought they were peonies (my current number one pick) when Scott first surprised with them on Tuesday. But also because they’re called garden roses, which makes me feel like I should be sipping tea in the English countryside – and not slugging coffee in our city casa. Ah, stereotypes. (And as an aside, this further clarifies my lack of flowery-planty knowledge.)

Thank you, Scott, for being my favorite man and gifting me with garden roses in honor of the greatest three years of my life so far. You’re the best handyman-ing, caulk squeezing, light re-wiring dude that I know, and I love you.

On another random but similar note, does anyone remember the awesome-ness that was The Darkness? (You guys, they were so much deeper and cooler than I Believe In a Thing Called Love; I swear.) And is it so bizarre that when Scott corrected me on my initial peony mistake, just that word alone – garden – caused this song to pop into my head? As if it were completely normal to reminisce on those days of cruising in my Dodge Neon, windows down, and immersing myself in ironic heavy metal.

Sadly, they never made an official video of that one.

Lastly, the addition of a fresh crop of flowers to our home has been known to cause a cleaning frenzy. My mind goes a little something like this: Ooh, pretty flowers! Oh, I must clean this house right now. A clean house for the clean flowers. Does this happen to you, too?