Dried Flowers…

Daughts loves dried flowers.

She eyes the browning thistle along the lane,

“Look at that!” she exclaims, stopping.

The leggy Black-Eyed Susan’s and Mexican paintbrush with their dried black seed pods,


“would look great in my kitchen window!”

She likes the dead branches and straw-like grasses,

“as filler…”

Easy enough I think as the day of her Friend-Caption draws near.

I start drying my Zinnia for the table decorations.  I cut them to bring inside to set on one of my tables and enjoy for a few days.


Shads brings me gifts.  He pulls a bloom delicately from the vase and runs into the room where I’m working to drop it at my feet.  Such a sweet boy.

Only problem is he can’t resist chewing on the leaves or small buds even though he knows they upset his tummy.  He ends up yowling and retching and sounds as if he’s going to turn inside out…

We stand by him as he throws up mostly saliva and whatever part of the flower he’s been sampling.

Magic drinks water from the vase.  He’s knocked a couple over causing them to shatter so I’ve started placing them on my patio tables where I can better monitor the cats and keep them away from the blooms.

When they start to droop I bundle them up with one of Callie’s rubber bands and hang them upside down from my pot rack.


The large Zinnia feel like paper while they are still on the stem…they fade slowly to a vintage rose or ivory and my kitchen begins to resemble a romantic boutique on the Left Bank.

In a few days when I start arranging the vases for Daughts’ party I’ll see what the dried blooms look like beside the delicate wildflowers we’ll pick from the verges, some red berries, clusters of dead vegetation and handfuls of  Snow on the Prairie.


If I decide they need a touch of vibrancy then I’ll go for my fresh flowers just outside the back patio door.


Easy enough.

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