My Dream Life, Part 1 of 5: Flowers

There will be roses, always.

I work as a writer: advertising to pay the bills, short stories and novels (and lately, of course, blogging) to satisfy my creative urges. But what I really want to do is own a flower shop. I love flowers, and color, and beauty. I don’t want to do it if the shop itself isn’t exquisite, on the downtown shopping strip of some small- or medium-sized town is what I picture. A cross between modern and sleek and sophisticated and Shabby Chic. I picture having vases and maybe art and sculpture for sale. An espresso machine and pastries in back. An inside sitting area for clients, a tiny walled-in garden with a table and chairs out back. I’d do flowers for restaurants, and put together boquetes for the cool single girls in the neighborhood to take home each week, and men to bring to their girlfriends/wives. I’ll have lovely stationary and paper to wrap the flowers in. And weddings--I love weddings. I’ll make the bride-to-be a cup of tea and we’ll sit outside with the fountain trickling and she’ll show me the pictures she’s ripped out of the magazines and I'll put together the most beautiful arrangements anyone has ever seen.

Sigh. I hope someday I can make it happen. It's possible, absolutely.