Birthday Flowers

Since I’ve been downloading images from the camera—and a blog is essentially an exercise in solipsism—I thought I may as well upload some images of flower arrangements from my 30th birthday.

I’m actually not really keen on being given flowers; Nick very rarely does so, although he occasionally bought a pretty bunch when we had a service station next door to us, largely to save them from the petrol fumes.

But flowers make me anxious, because I struggle to keep them alive and each day they get a little more ragged and I get more distressed about my botanical skills.

I think my family knows this, because they rarely send me flowers.

But they clearly felt that a 30th birthday was an occasion, because two bunches arrived.

I’d forgotten about these photos, which were taken 18 months ago, so it’s wonderful to see the arrangements in all their glory.

The first bunch is from my parents.

(Conveniently, this picture also shows my swan-shaped lamp, which I love quite beyond reason. I saw it first on a ridiculously expensive antiques website, and we decided it wasn’t worth the money. When I saw it again—at a much lower price, I might add—on ebay.com six months later, my heart leapt in my chest and I insisted on buying it. I love it every time I look at it.)

These arrived quite early in the day, when I was tidying and decorating the house with the help of my marvellous best friend—who had arrived from Sydney that morning with her less-than-four-months-old younger son in tow, and then not only spent the entire day helping me decorate and cook, but also spent the entire evening running around after people while I drank. Her son, my equally accommodating nephew, spent the night sleeping.

Nick must have been apprised of the imminent arrival of some flowers, because he answered the door and called me to the living room. When I insisted I was busy, he said, “No, you really have to collect this yourself.”

Turned out he was as surprised as anyone, because he’d been expecting this bunch, from my sister and sister-in-law:

(Alas, no swan lamp, but pretty funky curtains.)

It’s strange how not downloading photographs from your digital camera for 18 months can bring on such such a saccharine outpouring of nostalgia, isn’t it?

Blame it on my happy childhood; a happy childhood makes nostalgia a wonderful place to visit.