Sometimes, really, I don't want to talk about flowers here. Flowers all the time, a nice problem but a problem, too. There was a night this week that I couldn't fall asleep, wracked with anxiety over the color of wimpy imported clematis. Too blue of a purple! It just won't work with that blushing magnolia! I fretted for just long enough to feel like the biggest spoiled baby in the history of the first world. I ended up counting backwards from 100 to fall asleep, my favorite yoga meditation trick. You inhale on the number and exhale in between. (I just turned into my mom while writing that.) Flower coping mechanisms, they are real.
When I get busy, I swill Rescue Remedy. Technically some mumbojumbo homeopathic stress reliever, it's made up from 5 flower essences. This irony didn't dawn on me for several months- a vaguely cannibalistic, hair of the dog situation for florists. You must consume that which you fight. It's a nice fight though, and one I will always surrender to.
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