She loved flowers of every sort; potted or cut; growing in the house or in the garden, there were always blooms on show.
She even had a rather nice bunch of silk poppies, now housed at my Dad’s house. She used to say that they almost looked real, if you weren’t too close.
I wonder, if she was listening, what she would have thought of my teaching the boys about flower biology? Of getting them to count petals, and look at stamens inside the daffodil trumpets (a big hit by the way).
She would have definitely approved of trying to explain to them that these were flowers, for looking at and not for touching.
I miss her more this time of year, but know she is in my heart and memories.