Gin, the Lawn, and the Crashy-Bam-Bam (Or My New Ouchy-Boo-Boo)

Tuesday night I had an accident… but not that kind of accident.

I didn’t crash my car, I didn’t wet my pants, and I didn’t make out with an uggo.

I did, however, step into an unseen hole in my lawn. (It was dark and there may have been a bit of gin involved.) I lost my balance and went flying onto the sidewalk, whereupon I skinned my knee and gruesomely shredded the palm of my hand. I fell with such force that I also hit my chin on the ground, jarring my head and neck. Mercifully, my chin landed on the grass on the other side of the sidewalk, and I didn’t shred my face. (Thank the good Lord for small miracles and stuff.)

My dog sat patiently next to me as I lay on the ground. I explained to him, “Mommy went crashy-bam-bam and needs a minute to get up. She has an ouchy-boo-boo.” Crashy-Bam-Bam is a term he’s familiar with, given that he was an enthusiastic and rather clumsy puppy. And now that he’s sporting three-inch scars from his recent cancer surgery, he has heard a lot about ouchy-boo-boos from me as well.

(I like to think he understands me, but it may all be science fiction. #whatever)

Finally, after a few moments passed, I managed to pull myself to my feet and we finished our walk with me feeling rather sorry for myself.

A large bruise has since formed on my kneecap, and my hand is mummified in gauze. It’s all terribly sad. (Or at least I think so.)

I’ve always been clumsy. It’s just not something you outgrow, especially if you’re fond of sapphire and tonic.

So anyway, I’m wounded.

Wanna send me flowers?

I like peonies, and they’re in season.

Dark-pink-peonies-at-Columbia-Road

This many would fix my situation. Source

And now I’ll stop wallowing in self pity and get some work done.

XOXO

I’m Into Pretty Again (Or I Pretend to Be a Florist)

I don’t want to start all of my posts with an apology, so let’s just skip that part. Let’s pretend it’s acceptable that I’ve been ostensibly absent from the internet for months and get on with happy, pretty stuff like flowers and cupcake towers, K?

K, good.

If you’ve been following me forever, you might remember my unattractive meltdown about doing my own flowers for my Peter Pan Party back in 2012. If you haven’t been reading that long, consider yourself lucky. (Self pity is not attractive.)

I’m like a new person now or something.

ANYWAY…

I recently went to the flower district downtown and almost died from a peony OD.

See?

They even accidentally matched my shirt.

Legit peony mainlining.

If you’re wondering how someone who hates one-way streets and $5-an-hour parking meters ended up downtown, I will tell you.

My friend Susan needed help with the flowers for her mother-in-law’s birthday dinner, and for some reason she thought I could help her. I love Susan so super much that I got over my issues with downtown and went with her to the flower district.

It’s pretty amazing to go from nearly curling up in the fetal position at the thought of putting poppies in a vase to having someone ask you to do floral arrangements for their MIL’s 70th.

Here’s my handiwork:

This was one of three identical arrangements.

I’m almost a florist now.

Or something….

And just for fun, I also did an arrangement for my friend Sarah’s upcoming 80’s party.

See?

#rad, #dude

I made the cupcakes too ‘cuz I just can’t stop.

So, that’s me and my flower update.

I’ve come a long way, right?

XOXO