And so our mothers and grandmothers have, more often than not anonymously, handed on the creative spark, the seed of the flower they themselves never hoped to see – or like a sealed letter they could not plainly read.
As I was walking home after work I took the time to pick a few flowers here and there. They grew into a bouquet of summer flowers, as I slowly made my way home. This is the gift I gave to myself.
Back home I put them in my favorite jug, a gift from mom. I adore the pattern on the now cream coloured china: roses, flowers and birds. I have matching coffee cups too.
I hope you’re finding something nice to give yourself too today.