There are flowers in my house.  We had a celebration on Sunday afternoon (1/9)–a simple meal, a crumbling (but yummy) homemade cake to cheer a much-loved husband into his next year of life.  I scrambled to dust and sweep and remove the grime from the refrigerator door–hoping with each swipe that everyone does this in the minutes before guests arrive.  Last Friday, into the grocery store I trooped my two little men (zipped into puffy coats that always rub against the winter crud of everyone’s vehicle).  I had finally decided that the birthday cake would be a Boston Cream this year.  I needed eggs, flour, and unexpectedly, the small bouquet of white carnations for only $1.99.  Now, there are flowers in my house.

 My mom is great at “keeping house.”  Sometimes I wish she wasn’t so good so I wouldn’t have to feel like an incompetent lug when dishes pile up and the bed goes unmade for days.  (Important Note: Mom never tries to make me feel like an incompetent lug.  In fact, she constantly reminds me that I don’t remember the days when my sister and I were tiny girls and Mom scrambled around trying to gather toys before Daddy got home, and the drywall dust from Dad’s latest home project covered everything like powdered sugar on a warm brownie.)  When Mom has cleaned her whole house, leaving tidy vacuum tracks in the dining room carpet, she lights candles.  I also light candles after a good cleaning, but best of all, I love to have flowers in my house.

That bouquet of $1.99 carnations brought a little extra life to our kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom.  Three small vases of white blooms remind me of the growth that happens even in these winter months.  They remind me that a celebration has happened here.  Almost a week later, the tidy vases still bring a note of festivity to a January home. 

(Oh…I should admit that I learned the flower trick from my mom, too!)