Friday, August 11, 2006

Marge's Flowers

Sometimes I wish I'd just hold my tongue.

It shouldn't be that hard. Just bite it, nod politely, and go on with life. But my agreement to write this blog for Bailey has awakened old habits, and the floodgates have opened.

Take for example this past Monday.

Angie, being in a shopping mood, decided to drag me into every shop in Kanner Lake and the surrounding area. Hardware, grocery, gift--the shop type didn't matter. Goodness. I didn't know we had so many. I was ready to relieve my feet at Java Joint two blocks into Angie's crusade.

But no. If the shop was there, we went into it. She bought at most of them too. Only heaven knows what she'll do with it all.

Anyway, it wasn't long before we reached Marge's Flowers--a brand new shop in town. Angie decided on a whim--as usual--to buy some flowers for her husband's grave. Soon she was in a dither over Marge's broad selection--which is excellent for a town the size of Kanner Lake, by the way. So Angie asked for a recommendation.

Do you know what Marge offered her? A mix of red and white roses. Can you believe that? Only dark crimson roses would do for a grave!

I know Marge has a good heart and well-meaning intentions. But how you can run a flower shop and not know floriography--the language of flowers--is beyond me. So since I once studied flowers myself in my younger years, I could not help but volunteer to come in a couple afternoons a week to teach her what I know and give her a chance to study color combinations and do flower arrangements while I tend the shop. I guess it's the teacher in me.

Thus far it hasn't been too bad. Marge is eager and diligent, everything a teacher dreams for in a student. It's also been an interesting challenge to work in an area so unrelated to English.

Consider the last day I worked when a young man and his daughter came into the store. The daughter couldn't have been much more than four and had the most angelic gold curls, just like my own granddaughter, Abigail.

Since Marge was in the back studying, I stepped offered my services, asking what the occasion was. The father refused to reply and stalked to a back corner to study the prearranged flower bouquets. The nerve of him!

But the girl tugged on my sleeve and whispered that "mommy and daddy" had a fight. Of course, I knew just the thing and put my skills to use.

An hour later, the girl entered the store again, without either parent and asked if I'd seen them. I hadn't, but I was plenty outraged, I'll tell you. It's scandalous how parents neglect children these days.

So since I was ready to leave for the day, I told the child to wait for me and I would help her look. After retrieving my purse from the back and bidding Marge goodbye, I returned to the storefront. The girl was gone.

With the recent morbid events . . . well, I just didn't like it. Funny how differently I look at things these days because of all that has happened.

I do hope the flowers worked for that little girl's parents. It was a lovely arrangement.

Posted by ~ Bailey Truitt @ 7:00 AM
Well, people do have different tastes in flowers, but Bev has been teaching me some wonderful things about arrangements for various occasions. Hope you all will come in and see the shop!
Posted by Anonymous Marge : 11:53 AM
Just goes to show how children are affected when their parents fight. A stable home is so important for children.
Posted by Anonymous elizabeth monty : 11:54 AM
Hi. I've been reading awhile, but this is the first time I've commented. I just want to say, Bev, that I think you were a little hard on Marge. She's right--people do have different tastes in flowers. If a person wants yellow daises to put on a grave, that's what he/she should do. Arrangements might need to follow certain guidelines, but there's still plenty of room for personal taste.
Posted by Anonymous cassandra wells : 11:57 AM
Ohm Bev's just that way, Cassandra--all this bluster on the outside about how people should behave and such, yet look what she does. She may complain and shake her head, but she always steps up to the plate for the other person. Same reason she let me drag her after "Eva Longoria" when she thought it was insane.

Bev's a great friend, and if she ever gets too uppity about something, I just start to giggle. That gets her every time.
Posted by Anonymous Angie Brendt : 12:01 PM
I love flowers! But I didn't know that floriography word. (Did I get it right?) My favorite is pink roses. Does that say something about me, according to floriography?
Posted by Anonymous carly suggs : 4:13 PM
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