Are you married to a rose?
Yesterday, I picked some yellow roses. I was walking to the bus and there were these glorious roses blooming on lush green stems in a garden belonging to someone I don’ t know. I walked over and literally smelled one of them (how cliche, right? But I did) and it was unbelievable how fragrant they were. So I did it. I broke three roses from their stems, brought them home and put them in one of my drinking glasses which acts as my vase for the time being. As I write, I am looking at them, all lush and fluffy and yellow, sitting next to a bowl I have filled with apples, and a carton of mini White Zinfandel wines. Bliss, darling. Bliss…
So, as I am apt to do, I thought of it as a blog post. I still have no idea what connection I will make to roses and divorce. Or marriage for that matter. You know how I am. I free associate till I come up with something. I ad lib….
Roses. They are so fragrant, so beautiful, so classic, aren’t they? If you are married to someone who is a “rose” (I can’t think of roses in a divorce context; it doesn’t seem to fit) you probably are quite pleased with them, no? But the thing with roses, like what I noticed yesterday was that by the time I got home, they had sort of wiltered (is that a word, wiltered?) and I had to quickly resuscitate them by putting them in water – which was a perfect panacea. The water, I mean. They just perked up and spread themselves, providing me with this pleasant happiness. But I know they won’t last forever. They won’t last long. Roses are very high maintenance, you know. If you are married to a rose, I am sure you know that. You can’t ignore a rose. Even in gardening. Roses tend to be high maintenance. They can give you trouble. But they are so beautiful, so worth all the trouble, when they bloom…When you marry a rose, you basically marry an institution. A rose is fragile and sensitive and easily bruised. But a rose is also strong and and classic and singularly beautiful and brings great joy to those lucky enough to behold them. A rose can inflict pain, as much as it gives pleasure. A rose is seductive and soothes the senses. A rose is the queen of the garden…
And, of course, there are the thorns. I pricked myself terribly when I tried to quickly break the roses from their branches. I did not bleed, but it was not pleasant getting pierced like that. That is the thing about roses, isn’t it? Those thorns. They come with the package. If you can’t handle the thorns, don’t marry the rose… 🙂
Image credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/cq-biker/6340176679/sizes/m/in/photostream/
Are you married to a rose?