My husband turns to me from the desk downstairs, his chest swelling up with pride. “Go upstairs,” he says, “and take a look on the mantle.”
“Okaay,” I say slowly.
I survey the scene dispassionately.
Fragrant, full-blossomed roses -
which he knows are my favorite flower -
set on the marble shelf in an old hand-blown bottle from his great-grandfather’s days as a doctor,
the whole of which creates the most charming effect. He knows I’ve had a really hard day.
Then I step outside and survey my roses bushes as they are now.
And confirm my suspicions upon closer look.
He later objects to my lack of enthusiasm over his floral offering. “Now you’ll know not to expect roses on Valentine’s Day!” he spars playfully.
Without missing a beat, I retort drily, “Don’t worry. I never do.”
In all fairness, this little post is just for fun to tease my husband. And to show you my Copenhagen roses.
But how about you? Do you accept cut flowers, or must they be stemmed and wrapped and accompanied by a florist’s card?
) 
I love the roses and the bottle. They really do work beautifully together.
My husband is a tree surgeon, and he occasionally works on flower beds as well. He has been known to bring me home some cut flowers.