Tuesday, June 17, 2008

A rose by any other name...

 It looked like rain this afternoon, so I thought I might go and salvage a precious flower from the garden, before it was spoiled.

Pink rose
Having a cutting garden is a long standing fantasy of mine. To head out through the dewy grass, load up my trug, and enjoy the blooms inside the house. I even got as far as buying the book many years ago. But I find I have a guilt complex when it comes to actually harvesting the flowers. The empty spots in the borders look at me accusingly and I feel I have wasted the life of the plant for a brief moment of satisfaction.

Strange emotion, guilt. I feel the same way about ditching a product I bought but didn't like. Take this surface cleaner for example (matches my flower, dontcha think?).
Rose and smelly cleaner
I was seduced into buying it by the pretty, yet understated packaging and the unusual colour. But I'm sorry to say, that the smell reminds me of vomit. So why am I still feeling that I have to use it up? Guilt over waste has a lot to answer for.

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