Sunday, December 11, 2011

Say It With Flowers

I think the first time a bouquet of flowers was ever delivered to my door was in 1980.  They were peach-colored roses, sent by my daughter Deb for my birthday.  She couldn't have known when ordering, but it concurrently was the day my father died.  I've never forgotten how much those flowers meant to me.  Steve marked our anniversaries with red roses; one for each year, and one for the next.  The first time a florist's truck trundled up our drive just before Mother's Day after we'd moved here, I told the driver that there must have been a mistake; it's easy to get lost on these back roads.  Checking the address again, he said, no, the flowers were for me!  Deb and Craig had sent the most beautiful bouquet in a lovely vase.  The top of an armoire in the dining room is crowded with commemorative vases from subsequent flowers from this loving couple.  Dave has joined in on special occasions with miniature rose bushes that now grace my deck.  This unusual bouquet was brought by Deb and Craig for "our" Thanksgiving.  I took the photo yesterday, thinking that not one flower has wilted, and it was and still is too beautiful not to share.

It is so very strange, putting truth to the adage that "Not one door closes, but another opens."  Due to rising gas prices, milk customers (now dear friends) reluctantly informed me recently that after close to nine years of making the weekly trek out here from Placerville, they were going to have to stop buying.  Their daughter was a babe in arms when I got their first call, "Is this the goat lady?"  That young lady just rode her horse in the Santa Parade in town.  I certainly understand and sympathize with the economic crunch, but I will miss seeing this lovely couple every week.  I hope they keep their promise to keep in touch. 

Within a week of getting that final notice, I got another of those phone calls.  "I was given your number by (so-and-so), and I wonder if you have goat milk for sale."  Why, yes, it just so happens I do...and eggs, if needed.  Just like farm wives of old, I depend on my "butter and egg" money for my spending allowance.  This couple, somewhat older than my previous customers and without children, came for their first taste yesterday.  He will continue to work in the Bay Area while they establish themselves here.  That's a helluva commute!  They were, of course, introduced to the girls, big and little.  I was amazed that the husband was familiar with the name Musashi, the samurai warrior for whom the first Silkie rooster was named, and was able to quote battle plans and philosophy written by the first Musashi.  I'm going to have to pump Husband for more information when he comes back today for goat poop.  How he approached his request for this garden gold was amusing.  He was delighted to find I had this renewable resource.  He wants to put in a stand of timber bamboo and will need a lot of fertilizer.  That's a win-win situation for us both.

It was a good day.

1 comment:

Kathryn said...

Wow, it does sound like a door opened wide when that last one shut. Although I have seen bamboo flooring and cutting boards, I had never pictured timber bamboo - who woulda thunk it? With all the "green" talk, ya can't get much greener than goat-poop-fed bamboo!