The joys of being a florist number 573

Sometimes people can be patronising.

and by people, i mean men of a certain age.

Being a florist, you get patronised quite a bit.

Yesterday was a corker. I actually wanted to smack him in the mouth. Really hard. Like in the movies.

I didn't. Obvs.

It made me wonder, is it me? Do other florists get it too?

Is that why some people call themselves floral designers/ floral stylists or "floral artists"?

Are people embarrassed to be classed as a florist?

I'm not.

Said man wasn't a customer, he actually wanted me to do him a favour.

Probably won't.........

I will admit sometimes i play up to the stereo type and then surprise them later by winning an argument over Middle Eastern politics.


Purple rain

This post is brought to you by the drugs, Ventolin, Clarityn, Diclofenac, and Ibuprofen and caffeine.

It's contra-indication central

I wouldn't pass an Olympic drugs test, but i'm getting a lot done, just as well given how busy it is.

and i am wearing a size smaller jeans. Send cake, or maybe don't.

As Jimmy would say it's a win win situation.

also Prince

Hopefully normal service will resume soon.



Happy Birthday

Happy Wedding Anniversary

Congratulations on the birth of your baby

Good luck in your exams

I love you

Just because

With sympathy

You get to see a lot of peoples' lives.

I like that.


Jackie Wilson said

I'm in heaven when you smile.

Saturday,wedding, buttonholes. Then completely distracted by a tweet from Violet Cakes

"roast chickens resting, currants plumping in the drippings"

Pandora's box had been opened, evidently an idea originating at Zuni Cafe.  Please can somebody in the locale open such a place? Less of the foams and things on slates.

Cue 50,000 blog posts on the intricacies of the recipe. I went with guidelines for roasting the small chicken from Smitten Kitchen, drying and seasoning the night before, flipping the bird a couple of times during roasting in a hot oven.

I probably ruined all the effort by adding half a lemon into the bird. Whatever.

It reminded me of the way The Mother Hen cooked the turkey last Christmas. I used figs rather than currants, because that's what i had in, left in a mug filled with the juices whilst the bird rested.

Due to their size, not so much plumped as moistened, but oh so delicious. Pine nuts toasted, bread tossed in the vestiges of the roasting tin and baked for about 10 minutes.

and all assembled on a bed of red gem, because my seedlings are in need of some coaxing...... unlike my tulips, i can't remember the name of this one but they are the colour of a blu curiosa.

I also crumbled a dried up pot of supermarket mint over aubergines, roasted with garlic and olive oil. A dressing of oil, lemon juice and agave nectar was poured on top with handfuls of fresh garden mint and basil.

It's a crowd pleaser, unlike the Grand Prix..........

Also new crush



for a thing.

Are you getting bored of the blackboard background?

can somebody buy me a big old sheet of copper?

Pansies, violets, violas?


Dance the night away

underneath the electric stars

Debarge, guaranteed to cheer even the grumpiest of souls.

It's the rain, the curse of girls with curly hair the world over. Frizzy doesn't even get close.

Also did we watch Elizabeth Taylor last night? I quite forgot how beautiful she was, and sexy.

Today's starlets seem to try to hard. There is too much intensity.

It's a lot like the wedding industry.

and i forgot to ask if we had been watching Rachel Khoo and her Little Paris Kitchen. I like her, i suspect sales of red lipstick and appointments for fringes will soar.

also liatris. WTF?


Ready for summer

There comes a tipping point for those of us who work with flowers everyday.

Last week i couldn't have lived without orange ranunculus and the last of the paper whites and of course everybody who is on Instagrams favourite "Blossom" I don't do Instagram, i have a Blackberry......

I'm over it now. Spring that is, i want summer and peonies and delphinium and sweet peas and love-in-a-mist.

Nor do i want a child, i just liked the pictures of David Beckham with his.

Yesterday i was drawing daffodils with a child, i asked whether she was going to draw them in the axial or sagittal plane.

"We don't do that at nursery, we just join up the dots, I'm only 4"


A weekend

Not my finest, a Greta Garbo Sunday.

The problem with wanting to be alone is that there isn't anyone around to slap you, when a combination of painkillers and Piriton leaves you a bit odd. Will a bride go for this design? suddenly becomes, Why does every farmer in the land have to grow OSR? Could i put a baby in the corner of the shop? Is that legal? Am i going to die alone? Could i drink a pint of tea? Am i the only one who thinks it's the emperor's new clothes? Not so intimidating now.

Meltdown. The 'rents slapped me. It's all good now.

I don't actually want a baby, i just like the pictures of David Beckham. You're welcome.

also a man just came in to tell me that there is some nice fish in Morrisons, it's made in Vietnam, no bones, and that his wife complains that he doesn't have any stamina anymore, and that he is looking to find her a toyboy.

Business as usual.


I was dreaming while i drove the long straight road ahead

Could taste your sweet kisses
Your arms open wide
This fever for you is just burning me up inside
I drove all night to get to you
Is that alright
I drove all night
Crept in your room
Woke you from your sleep
To make love to you

When you get a song in your head. That.

Also if i am in your garden and ask if i take photographs, it's because i am logging what you have so that i can steal it.

There is a Grand Prix it is on the BBC, which means i will actually get to see it.

and as one sister heads back to university, another one comes back from the USofA

and i have bridal quotes to do, so that's my weekend sorted, do you have plans?

and yesterday as i passed through a train station, (i wasn't actually here yesterday, sneaky)  this band were playing live. They were amazing. Properly good.