All posts by celia

Denial solves nothing. Don’t do it.

Denial comes in different guises. Usually when we say someone is in denial we think of it in negative terms. There is a person who won’t accept the truth, we think. There is a person who can’t cope.

denial as self defence

denial as defence

You might not want to face the truth about all kinds of things: illness; ageing, addiction, relationships. Some people use denial as a means of self defence. They think by ignoring the facts that everything will somehow improve.

Wrong.

denial never resolves

don’t deny your feelings

I have experience of it. I suppose most of us have at one time or another. But pushing aside problems only has the effect of allowing them to accumulate. Like cancer, they grow. They multiply. They keep on multiplying until your whole system is toxic.

When you know you have a medical problem you do something about it, don’t you? You go and get it fixed. But anything to do with emotions/feelings/fears/anxieties etc etc. we tend to shy away from. In a previous post I wrote about Brené Brown’s ideas on vulnerability. She’s all for coming out with your vulnerabilities and giving them voice. It’s the most courageous thing you can do.

But there are people who not only deny their own feelings: they deny yours too. When you’ve had the courage to make yourself vulnerable and express how someone’s actions make you feel they should acknowledge what you’ve said. If they refuse, they have a problem. They are in denial. And if you allow it to continue you’re the one who’s going to end up with a bigger problem than you had to begin with.

denial is avoiding your soul

face your truth

Yet there is a positive aspect to denial. Consider the following:

Matthew 16:24  Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me.”

Self denial is another matter altogether. Abandonment of the needs of self and taking up your share of the suffering of humanity (your cross) is key to being a good human.

All well and good if you’re dealing with other ‘good’ human beings. There comes a point, it seems to me, when you can’t continue giving to others if they are in such a state of denial they prefer to continue hiding behind a false front. Surely that would be time for some tough love. Standing back and allowing someone to experience the error of their thinking might be the lesson they need. Obviously you wouldn’t do that with a child who wants to play with matches but when an adult is making the choice to live in denial all you can do is let them get on with it and remove yourself.

true colours

you can’t live in denial forever

Well, Amen to that.

Anybody like to add their comments? Don’t be shy. You can reach me on my Facebook Celia Micklefield author page and on Twitter @cmicklefield

Thank you for visiting.

 

Queer as Folk. Book Launch

Queer as Folk short stories

stories to give you a giggle, a sigh or a shudder

Queer as Folk

A new collection of short stories launches on 31st March in Kindle format. Pre-order is open now. A paperback version will be available in April. As with her first collection of stories the author focuses on what makes ordinary people do extraordinary things.

The author? The author? Why am I writing in the third person? Weird, huh? Just one example of why we do queer things.

I’m taking over now. First person from now on. Bugger tradition.

In Arse(d) Ends, my first collection, I used words ending in the letters a.r.s.e. as a queer and quirky link with the narrative. In Queer as Folk each story is subtitled by a profound saying, well-known or otherwise.

For example, in January Girl I chose the following:

The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with yourself.

Mark Twain 1835-1910

For the story, Yorkshire Grit I chose:

Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.

George Bernard Shaw 1856-1950

How queer am I?

Oh, I’m queer. So are we all. Life makes us that way. Maybe our lives are all about following our paths to un-queer ourselves. Perhaps at the end we can count ourselves lucky if we came through having coped with the journey the best we could with whatever resources we possessed.

One of my resources is a particular kind of sense of humour. I have a penchant for dark tales. I mean, I’m into tales of revenge where it backfires or accidental comeuppance for the nasty perpetrator who has made a telling mistake. For me, humour is a way of expressing hope. I want to give my readers a sense of satisfaction at the end of my stories that everything worked out just the way it should.

In Queer as Folk there are 21 stories, 1 poem and a 14 Tweet story I posted live on Twitter (told you I was queer).

As with my first collection some stories are longer than others. I like that variety. Sometimes shorter narratives pack quite a punch. It all depends on the subject matter.

I hope you enjoy this new collection. Here’s a link to my author page on Amazon UK.

Don’t forget to keep in touch. I love to hear from you.

 

Funny. What makes things humorous?

We’ve all got a funny bone

Actually it isn’t a bone. It’s the ulnar nerve. So why do we call it the funny bone?

There are two main ideas about that. One says it’s a pun on anatomy because the nerve runs along the humerus, which sounds like “humorous.” The other claims the nerve got its nickname because of the  odd (funny peculiar) feeling you experience after you hit it.

funny bone

funny ‘bone’

But humour hasn’t anything to do with your elbow unless when you bang it you make other people laugh. So . . .

What makes things funny?

Where do we register humour in our brains? Scott Weems tells us there’s been plenty of research into laughter.

His book Ha!: The Science of When We Laugh and Why explains in detail. But what about studying what it is that makes us laugh? Why do some of us find certain kinds of comedy funny but others don’t?

funny for life

humour is life enhancing

Humour appreciation appears to be based in the lower frontal lobes of the brain, a location associated with social and emotional judgment and planning according to imaging research. That might explain why people who have suffered strokes involving the lower frontal lobes of the brain may have alterations of personality which include loss of their sense of humour. Also why psychopaths whose brains are wired differently tend to have an infantile sense of humour.

Different types of funny

There are different kinds of humour including the following:

Affiliative humour – the style of humour used to enhance one’s relationships with others in a benevolent, positive manner. This style of humor is typically used in a benevolent, self accepting way. Individuals often use this kind of humour as a way to charm and amuse others, ease tension and improve relationships.

Self-enhancing humour is a style related to having a good-natured attitude toward life, having the ability to laugh at yourself, your circumstances and the idiosyncrasies of life in a constructive, non-detrimental manner.

Aggressive humour is a style potentially detrimental towards others. This type of humour is characterized by the use of sarcasm, put-downs, teasing, criticism, ridicule used at the expense of others. Aggressive humour often disregards the impact it might have on others. Prejudices such as racism & sexism are considered to be  aggressive humour.  At times it may seem like playful fun but sometimes the underlying intent is to harm or belittle others.

Self-defeating humour is characterised by the use of potentially detrimental humour towards the self in order to gain approval from others. Individuals high in this dimension engage in self-disparaging remarks where laughter is often at their own expense. Self-defeating humour often comes in the form of pleasing others by being the “butt” of the joke.

Does funny have a reason for being?

So what is the purpose of humour?

we need funny

what would life be without something funny?


Airing social taboos

If we can laugh at difficult subjects might we make it easier to discuss them? In my first collection of short stories Arsed End(s) I wrote about sexual harassment, boring relationships, funerals, infuriating hobbies and the end of the world. I’m a fan of dark humour. I think it has its place in this sub-category.

Social criticism

We can take a poke at local and national government, even specific ministers or presidents, corporations and institutions like Big Pharma or the police. George Orwell set his social criticism novel in a farmyard in Animal Farm. We could laugh at Napoleon the pig whereas in 1984 I don’t remember there being anything funny.

Consolidation of group membership

Jokes about one political party to confirm your allegiance to another. Humour based on the ‘easy’ life of a hospital consultant to establish membership of the junior doctor group. One football team against another. You get the picture.

Defence against fear and anxiety

Turning fears and anxiety into something to laugh about makes them less frightening: death, funerals, impotence, fear of flying, bad drivers etc.

Intellectual play

Clever sayings, puns and other plays on words. Witty reposts and dry one-liners. As Einstein said, creativity is intelligence having fun.

And that’s where I’d like us to leave it. Having fun. All this analysis of what makes things funny and how we assimilate that humorous information takes the shine off the fun, in my opinion. You have to wonder what the ancients laughed at. When some young blood cut his finger on his own sword in the Bronze Age you can bet the others didn’t sit around analysing what kind of funny they were sniggering at.

The oldest recorded joke in the history of mankind dates back to 1900 BC Sumeria:

“Something which has never occurred since time immemorial; a young woman did not fart in her husband’s lap”

It seems even the ancient Sumerians had a lavatorial sense of humour. I don’t get this ancient quip. I don’t find it at all funny. But I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter why. I obviously haven’t found all the answers yet to my questions about humour.

Leave a comment, folks. Subscribe to my website for notification of new posts. Please, if you’re already a subscriber, be aware you need to subscribe again since my site crashed and your details were lost. Remember your email remains private.

Cheers! Have fun. Laugh a lot.

widgets screen

Widgets. Bells whistles and pretty pictures

You gotta have Widgets.

I lost all my widgets when my website crashed after updating to WordPress 4.7.2  I discovered the problem was caused by non-compatible plug ins. My screen showed the white page of death.

Fatal error: Cannot redeclare add_term_meta() (previously declared in /home3/cecilia/public_html/wp-includes/taxonomy.php:1153) in /home3/cecilia/public_html/wp-content/plugins/taxonomy-metadata/taxonomy-metadata.php on line 97

With the help of the marvellous James F at Hostgator we managed to get me up and running again. (see previous post.)

BUT. I’d lost all my widgets. Most of my plug ins were incompatible with my new updated system. What’s a girl to do?

Jetpack has the answers. Mostly.

This is a great package. Widgets coming out of its ears. Top Ten posts to show in your sidebar. Background stats to show how many views for each post. Subscriber email check box. Connection to your latest Tweets. Loadsa widgets.

You can tell there’s a ‘BUT’ coming.

I don’t like the image widget from Jetpack

It distorts your pictures. I’ve tried every which way to improve their appearance but gave up in the end. Images within the text of a post look fine.

widget screen

widget screen

The widget screen above from my media library looks okay. But when I tried to put an image box in my contents sidebar on the right of the page the picture was as distorted as the ones in the popular posts widget in the primary sidebar on the left.

Altering pixel size did nothing to help. Instead I looked elsewhere.

Black Studio TinyMCE widget

This is the one I always used before updating. I checked its compatibility and – Bob’s your uncle – it’s good to go.

The burning hand image I use for my CRPS posts looks as it should in the contents sidebar. I’m happy to continue using this widget.

Now I want to know how to put borders around images as I could before updating. It used to be an easy option. Maybe I’m just missing the information. It must be here somewhere.

Update at your peril. A necessary evil?

 Want your website secure? Update now.

I’d been eyeing the update recommendation for some months. Each time I looked at my WordPress dashboard there was the update message again.

update system

update NOW!!!

I know you’re supposed to update your systems. If you don’t you might find things don’t work so well. But I’m a careful sort. I wait. I wait to see if the latest update has caused problems for others before I take the leap into the unknown.

I made the decision. Time to update. I backed up using WordPress’ recommended plug in. I thought, It’ll be okay. If anything goes wrong I can go back to where I was before.

update wordpress

Update and calm in the same sentence?

Duh! See, I’m no expert at this malarkey. I’m a writer. I write novels and short stories and, to be honest, I’m pretty amazed that I ever got this far with managing my own website.

So, feeling reasonably confident I was fully prepared I hit the update button.

update in progress

what progress?

Have you ever seen the white page of death? It looks something like this:

Fatal error: Cannot redeclare add_term_meta() (previously declared in /home3/cecilia/public_html/wp-includes/taxonomy.php:1153) in /home3/cecilia/public_html/wp-content/plugins/taxonomy-metadata/taxonomy-metadata.php on line 97

What the . . .?

NOOOOOOOOOO!

I tried accessing my dashboard. Nothing doing. Just the white page of update death. FATAL ERROR are very scary words. I think my hair actually stood on end.

the horrors of update

update howling

I had a bit of a think. I made coffee. Thought some more. This must be fixable, thought I, but I need a fix that’s easy to understand.

First stop – Youtube.

Youtube is amazing. You can find out how to do everything from installing a post motor filter in your old Dyson to bathing a canary in preparation for a bird show. (I once spent a whole afternoon learning multiple ways of tying a scarf around your head for a fancy dress party). But fixing a FATAL ERROR on your website? I knew it was going to give me grief. Two minutes in and I was losing the will to you know what. Eventually it became clear I needed to contact my server who hosts my website. Hostgator. Right then. Saturday afternoon? Is there anybody there?

update with Hostgatorr

My website server. Could they help?

Their website says – Contact us by email, phone or use the online Help Chat form.

a) they don’t give you an email address

b) I can’t afford to call Texas

c) the online help is experiencing an excess of traffic

Hmmm. I wonder why. Maybe all the bloggers out there have received their own white page of death.

I tried again and again. Still nothing doing. Back to Youtube to see how to access my cPanel at Hostgator. This is the page where you can get into your account and, I thought, maybe I can simply delete the offending plug in which has obviously assassinated my website.

control panel

Hostgator control panel

Hostgator didn’t seem to know who I am. They wouldn’t let me in. I searched through all my carefully stored and protected info from the early days and found my welcome email with my username and password. I made doubly damned sure I entered it properly.

Zilch. Nada.

Funny, I thought. They know who I am when it’s time to pay the bill.

Saturday afternoon became Saturday evening and my eyes were on stalks. Reluctantly I conceded defeat and poured a large brandy.

James F to the rescue

On Sunday I got through. James F appeared out of the wide blue yonder and answered my online question.

update help

hostgator help

So now I’m back up and running. BUT –

all my plug ins are deactivated and, according to WordPress, most of them are untested on 4.7.2.

Now I have no FOLLOW CELIA subscriber check box. All my colourful content in the sidebars has disappeared. I can’t put borders around images in my posts nor can I automatically share my posts on Facebook, Twitter et al.

I’m disappointed. Not with James F. He is Superman as far as I’m concerned. But, come on WordPress. I’ve been a good girl and updated and you took my sweeties away.

Ah, well. I’ll just have to find plug ins that WILL work with my new updated system. Bear with . . . .

 

Send me a comment. I’d love to hear if others have had similar issues. And when I find a plug in that lets you subscribe please do.

Edit:

Aesthetic.

What is aesthetically beautiful country?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/aesthetic/

The WordPress daily post is always a challenge but I don’t often find time to write on the chosen theme. Today, however, we’re on the same page. I’ve been considering writing about where I live now.

I have long-held opinions about what I consider aesthetically beautiful scenery. It involves water, mountains and blue skies.

Well, here in Norfolk there are no mountains. But there’s plenty of water and sometimes there are also blue skies.

the aesthetic beauty of Norfolk

January Broad

I started out feeling cold on this Sunday afternoon walk around the Broad but soon had to peel off the top layer. Some Norfolk Broads came about as a result of peat diggings in medieval times but others, like this one in my photograph were chalk excavations. Rising sea levels completed the job. You’d never know it, but the fine city of Norwich is just behind those trees.

The Norfolk Broads are a popular English tourist attraction. Thousands of people come in summer to spend their vacation time on the water, stopping off at waterside hostelries before moving off in time to moor at another hostelry for the evening. Boat hire is big business here. Some folk live by the water and have their own. It’s a good place to house-sit!

winter aesthetics

private mooring

Winter brings a different kind of aesthetic beauty and makes creatives like me get out the paint brushes and/or write poetry, especially when mist hangs over the water and everything is still.

aesthetic mist

winter staithe in mist

Winter Staithe ©

( a staithe is a cutting or inlet )

 

No wind to fill the billowing sail.

No sun to bathe the picnic decks

where plimsolled little sailors skipped

gaily in and out and dripped

their melting ice creams down their necks.

No birds to follow in the trail

to search for scraps, to wheel and cry

and loudly squabble ownership

of tasty morsels newly slipped

into the wake. The staithe and sky

in rippled stillness form a pale

and misty shadow of the days

gone by. The old gate creaks

its winter joints. The reeds break

through the grey and filmy haze

with shots of gold: thin echo of a summer’s tale.

. . . . . . . . . .

More Norfolk posts to come in the goodness of time. Leave a comment, please. Don’t be shy. I love to hear from you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello, Stranger. How’s your CRPS?

It’s been a while. I haven’t written a new post since May. If you’ve read previous posts on the pain of CRPS you’ll know how it sometimes affects my creativity.

Chronic pain knocks the stuffing out

It’s like there’s no energy left for anything other than crawling back into bed. With an extra pillow to support the throbbing arm. With a hot water bottle to ease the painful shoulder. With a heated lavender pack under your neck. Sexy, huh?

In the early days my hand was swollen. If you Google images for a CRPS hand guess whose comes up?

CRPS hand

yes, folks, that’s me

I found I could use the keyboard with one hand but sitting at the desk in constant pain didn’t get my head in the right place for writing, especially the kind of fiction beloved by women’s magazines. Besides, my head was in a fog most of the time due to side effects of various medications. But I could edit. So, little by little I managed to get my first two novels out.

Oh, that seems so long ago.

CRPS beginning

CRPS beginning

Where my CRPS is now

The swelling has gone now. Thanks to early intervention my claw of a hand is more user-friendly. (You cannot peel a potato with one hand, not to mention putting  on a bra!)

Now I can do most tasks beyond my capabilities at the outset. And I’m grateful for that. I still drop things and take twice as long as other people at the supermarket cash desk but if I have a word with the cashier beforehand they’ll go more steadily for me. Top marks to Tesco on this one – always happy to help.

tesco

top marks for Tesco

But it seems my CRPS has spread to other places in my body. It’s gastro-intestinal stuff now, people. Look away now if the subject is too distasteful.

I have cyclical vomiting and diarrhoea. And it’s becoming more frequent. I’ve tried to ascertain which foods might be culprits and I know now to avoid heavily fatty meals but, still, some days the cycle begins without any reason, it seems to me.

I have an appointment to see my doctor next month which, by coincidence is CRPS awareness month.

crpsawarenessmonth

CRPS awareness

My doctor knows how I feel about taking medication. I control the amount I take. Rigorously control. However, as I realise I’m a candidate for osteoporosis due to the CRPS I’m going to ask for a Vitamin D check. If I can avoid further damage to my bones by taking a vitamin supplement, I will swill it down gladly.

In the meantime, cyclical vomiting permitting, I continue with my writing endeavours.

The Sandman and Mrs Carter is under review with a publisher. I’m also revisiting Queer as Folk, my second collection of short stories.

And I’m getting my orange outfit ready for CRPS Awareness Day.

crpsawareness

CRPS awareness

Apology

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/discover-challenges/apology/

Would an apology have helped?

I never got one. An apology. A whole year has gone by during which time I’ve had some struggle. Not to mention pain. I have CRPS as a result of injuries caused when I was knocked down by a careless driver. I cope with the pain most days with strong medication and I’ve even managed to reduce the amount I use. On warm days. Cold days are a different matter.

I had to leave my home in France. For most of last year I missed it: the warm climate, the friends I made there, the warm climate, the wine, the warm climate. You get my drift. Norfolk is a beautiful county and there are far worse places you could live in England but I couldn’t help thinking about what I was missing. When I saw flowers in a pretty garden here I’d remember the shrubs and flowers in the south of France. When I visited the coast I would long for the blue of the Mediterranean.

And I wasn’t living my life the way I wanted.

Finances have been difficult and I still await the outcome of the legal wrangle which continues over the shared property abroad. I’ve experienced anger, bitterness, a desire for revenge. All those dark emotions which don’t make you feel any better at all.

And I wasn’t living my life the way I wanted.

apology

wise words

It took me a while. Maybe I’m a slow learner. But I got there in the end. Even though I never had an apology from the man who hit me with his car nor the man who wanted me out of his life, I am now living my life the way I want. Frugally, it goes without saying but I feel free.

missing apology

I accept

I have learned so much since April 2015 and most of it has been about myself. Relationships end. It’s a fact. You can’t blame someone for falling out of love. So, instead of being stuck in thinking about what has gone from my life I’ve been able to concentrate on enjoying what is my reality NOW.

And as soon as my thinking changed so did a whole load of other things.

Now I can forgive.

forgive no apology

forgiveness is freedom

I forgive the careless driver. I forgive my ex. Neither of them have made me less of a person. I believe I’m a better person now I’ve learned how to overcome a host of difficulties and put in place boundaries which before I chose to ignore.

I know now how I want to live my life. I can forgive the people who took away from me the life I led before because I’m free to fill my time with things I enjoy and people who love me as I am.

apology

 

I have let go of the longing for what has gone. That doesn’t mean I have rolled over and allowed myself to be abused further. No. I am stronger. My boundaries mean I stand up for myself. I say what I mean and mean what I say. With gentleness. Kind but firm.

apology

the last chapter

I’m in the last chapter of my life. It’s going to be the best. The creativity lost to me through pain, both physical and emotional, is returning.

I want to get back to my writing. I’m ready to live my life the way I want.

apology

ditch the junk

I was crushed, I admit it. But I didn’t want to stay crushed. I still have life to live and love to give.

 

apology

I want to go on loving life

There’s no point in waiting for an apology. Some people don’t mean they’re sorry anyway. Some people don’t know how to be sorry. That’s their problem. You can forgive them and move on. Let it go. Set yourself free.

 

aplogy

Cecilia. Does my name suit me?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/say-your-name/

When I was a child I hated the name Cecilia.

Truth be told, for a time I didn’t even want to be a girl. My mother told me once if I’d been a boy I would have been called Howard. (She had a thing about the actor and singer Howard Keel.)

I tried to keep up with the boys because I thought my father had really wanted a son. I ran with the lads. Played boys’ games. Most of my friends were neighbourhood boys. Until, one day I climbed up a drainpipe onto the Drill Hall roof and couldn’t get back down. Somebody’s dad had to climb up and give me a fireman’s lift back to safety.

Drill Hall - old Keighley

where Cecilia lost her street credibility

My street cred was ruined. I was a real girl after all. A girl christened Cecilia after her paternal grandmother. My grandmother was a miner’s wife, skilled at spinning out the family income to feed her brood of six children. She made the best custard in the world. I digress.

It took me a long time to grow into my name. I still don’t do frills and fancies, preferring classic styles and understatements fashion-wise, but every now and then I can fall in love with most unsuitable, uncomfortable shoes.

The meaning of my name came as a shock. It means ‘blind’. What? In what ways am I blind? There are several interpretations as in ‘blind’ faith where the believer does not need proof to believe. I rather like that.

Most people will know that Saint Cecilia is patroness of music.

St Cecilia

St Cecilia offering her music to God

According to legend Cecilia was a Roman woman of noble birth who was martyred for her refusal to worship Roman gods. She is often depicted with a musical instrument of some sort but she also sang. My grandmother Cecilia made sure all her children had a musical education. My father played honky-tonk piano, two more of the six gained degrees in music, one became a music teacher. One son married a lady with an incredible soprano voice, my aunt Irene, and many of Cecilia’s grandchildren went on to be passionate about the Arts. For me, it’s writing now but I sang with an international choir in France for seven years and before that took part in competitive singing in the east of England winning several silver trophies over the years. Strange, how things turn out, isn’t it?

Now I can be proud to say my name. I’m comfortable with it. Friends call me Celia for short, or Cee-Cee or just Cee. But I was named Cecilia and that’s all right with me.

Flowers from a Secret Admirer

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/secret-admirers/”>Secret Admirers</a>

The WordPress daily challenge:

You return home to discover a huge flower bouquet waiting for you, no card attached. Who is it from — and why did they send it to you?

I love flowers. I can’t imagine not having flowers to look at. I often take photographs of plants and flowers I find particularly pleasing. They satisfy a part of me I can’t describe. I don’t know whether this kind of pleasure has a name of its own but, for me, it’s part of a feeling of connectedness, as if the plants can feel me admiring them and are even more beautiful because of that.

When I take time out to paint or draw, it’s always flowers that come to mind first.

Hollyhock pastel

soft pastel drawing of Hollyhocks

Even weeds have a beauty of their own.

Convolvulus pastel

Convolvulus

A secret admirer would know all my favourites. Someone who really wanted to reach me would know I have favourite colour combinations.

secret admirer

white petunia, blue plumbago

So fresh and clean: blue and white together. In fact, I have a thing about blue flowers. They resonate with me like no others. Catch them at twilight and their colour glows in the half-light with a fleeting intensity. It’s a bitter sweet pleasure: it passes so quickly. You have to be out there and specifically look for it.

Put me in a bluebell wood in April and I’m in heaven. Not only does the colour get to me, there’s the perfume as well – ah, sensory paradise.

secret Bluebellwood

April bluebells

Here’s a selection of flower pictures I’ve been moved to take:

Stargazer flowers

Stargazer lilies

Fuchsia flowers

fuchsia

 

 

 

 

 

Magnolia flowers

magnolia

Pink rose flower

rose

 

 

 

 

 

Seems I like a bit of pink, too, huh? My secret admirer would have this sussed. Well, of course he would; he has made a point of finding out these things.

The red rose is supposed to be symbolic of love. When I lived in France they were used as an early warning system protecting surrounding grape vines. At the first sign of disease on the roses wine growers would know how to treat the vines.

Rose warning flowers

early warning roses

But, listen, here’s a secret. I have problems with red flowers. I never know where is the best place to plant them. To my thinking they can take over the whole garden with their showiness. They draw the eye and steal away attention from other more deserving beauties.

My ideal garden will be full of flowers but they will share the space with friendly companionship. They will be gentle and welcoming. There will be plenty of green also to act as a foil and add depth to the overall effect.

Yard flowers

a French yard full of flowers

So who is my secret admirer?

A man so kind and thoughtful he has read this post and found a way to put a bouquet together that will both surprise me and fill me with admiration for the depth of his caring.

Why has he given it to me?

Because he loves me, silly!

(Don’t forget to FOLLOW CELIA for more Random Thoughts posts. Your email remains private. Or send a comment. I love to hear from readers.)