Floriography – Belated Happy Birthday B Frank – RIP Dan Ghent

Yesterday was my dear SIL Barbara “b” Frank’s birthday, so Lisa made sure that we sent a beautiful array of flowers to commemorate this auspicious occasion. B acknowledged the receipt yesterday by sending her thanks and the above photo of the arrangement. B was pleased. Lisa did good.

On the other end of the emotional spectrum, and the country, yesterday, Lisa and I sent an arrangement of flowers to Maureen Collins in the attempt to console her and her family over the recent passing of her husband, Daniel Ghent. He as waked yesterday evening and his funeral is this morning.

Last night, another one of the Collins sisters – Eileen Cotto (whose character[s] appear in the Claire Saga) – sent me a text “Tommy the bouquet is really beautiful.” Mission accomplished. Maureen and family knew that we sent our condolences and were there in spirit.

Now most of civilized society also understands the romantic implications of the delivery of flowers. A local radio show called “War of the Roses,” takes full advantage of that concept in its use to publicly capture a cheating boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse/significant other on a daily basis.

https://hits1061seattle.iheart.com/featured/the-jubal-show/

Jubal (and his crew) are funny as fuck. I try to catch them most mornings.

Celebrations and commemorations of all shades of life and death, all performed through the same medium. Beautiful flowers.

It is called Floriography – https://abcflora.com/blogs/flower-blog/history-giving-flowers

It seems that it all started – as anything worth it’s salt does – with the Ancient Greeks, who used to bring flowers to the temples of the gods.

The Egyptians kicked it up a notch and extended the practice to gifts to their lovers (as well as adorning their chariots). So all of those poor cheating bastards caught out by Jubal & Co. can blame Egypt.

The emotionally challenged Victorians substituted flowers in place of their socially suppressed feelings, delivering them for every occasion. Pygmalion, a play by George Bernard Shaw, evokes both the Greek gods and the power of flowers in Victorian London (think My Fair Lady).

I am a weird form of color-blind – not fully black and white – but one that cherry-picks and transgresses the various categorizations (red/green, etc.) – and thus, cannot be corrected with those wonderful glasses (I tried – sigh).

So it’s never been the flowers’ colors that have dazzled me. I can appreciate their delicate forms to a degree, but it is their fragrance that really does it for me.

A smell can do wonderous things. It can transport you.

And no other medium can supply the purest forms of fragrance more than flowers, although a slow walk through Bed, Bath and Beyond always used to work in a pinch.

For example, I chose my favorite fragrance, that of the flower, lavender, to signal the arrival of particular supernatural events in FJM and again in WTLLM. Oddly enough, as much as I remember that fragrance from my youth, lavender is an old school defense against scorpions, and I am a Scorpio. Go figure.

Anyway, gifting flowers should be encouraged. It allows one to send a message without words. And not everyone can say what they mean.

Well today is Saturday, and thoughts of flowers will give way to thoughts of hay, fruits and veggies, the more practical flora. That’s okay. We need our sustenance in all forms.

You fine, five readers go out there and take care of your chores.

Then relax. Stop and smell a flower.

I’m off for a kitty cuddle and my rounds.

And let’s all make today a great one.