Friday, April 1, 2011

A rose by any other name.

I may have just butchered some poor sods line.  I'm not sure.  I'm not big on the remembering.  I envy those who are.  If only I could remember what happened yesterday, a week ago, three years ago, then I might be better at winning arguments.  Alas I have the memory of a really cheap sieve so things just go in one ear, get processed, then go out the other.  On the upside I'm a very forgiving person.

"He/she said what?  I can't believe it!  I'm so angry!  I'll never forgive them!"

One hour/two days/three months later:

"Love her/him!  Fabulous!  Excellent human being!"

Sigh.

Anyway.  This is just a post to post the photo of flowers I bought the other day.  Vintage roses they're called, I think (can't remember!) but they're gorgeous and I was lucky to find them as people (apparently according to the florist) think they're all old and ready to die as they have a brown tinge to them.  Which is clearly wrong because one week on they're blooming beautifully, unlike my memory.

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