Red Roses

One of my favorite humans brought me roses yesterday.

He handed them to me as he arrived for a belated 50th birthday celebration. It was a lovely celebration: an evening walk to a delectable dinner at a Chicago tapas bar,  a gift (a gift!), a six pack of Three Floyd's oh so tasty Zombie Dust pale ale to accompany TV hockey as the evening drew to a close.  A memorable evening.

But oh,  those roses.

I confess to being giddy.

I have spent the entire day on my first floor, a sort of 90s condo great room, eager to keep the roses in view. I don't often spend my weekend days in this room. Today, I am captivated.

As I told that generous favorite human last night,  I am sure it has been more than 20 years since anyone gave me long stem roses.

I find myself more than a little intrigued by the joy they've brought me all day.

I do have, I have discovered, a terrific decorative palette for red roses. Everything in this room, much of it red, seems to leap out at the eye in their presence.  He's given me a colorful work of art in which to spend my Sunday.

Here's to unexpected surprises --and delights you would never have predicted would delight you so.