I feel sometimes as though I must be the only girl who has never been bough flowers by a boy.
OK- I'm telling a tiny white lie. I have had a boy buy me a single red rose- and I mean a boy, not a young man- we were eleven, and he was my primary school boyfriend. We went on one "date", and held hands for about two weeks, and that was about that.
And when I was 18, a male friend bought me a bouquet of flowers because I was sad, and it was the only thing he could think of doing to make me feel a little better.
But I have never had anyone buy me flowers "just because". Never had a boy try to woo me with flowers.
But who needs a guy to buy you flowers when you can buy yourself flowers?!
I picked this beautiful bouquet of sweet williams and gerberas. Pink and pretty and brightening up our kitchen in my favourite jug, because we don't have a vase of the right size.
I love this time of year for so many reasons. But the beautiful flowers in season (hello, peonies. I spot you in the kitchen of every other blogger. Who cares that you're my favourite too...) are a really, really special part of that.