40 bouquets to Norristown, back to Chalfont and to West Chester

me in front of group with flowersSometimes, I try to pack too much into one day! I was totally exhausted yesterday. I don’t think I can do that too often. The day before, it was about the same. Two locations, far apart in one day.

But the senior community in East Norriton was a nice place to visit. I asked everyone where they were from and so many connections were made. I went to high school with Mrs. W’s son. Mr. H. knew my father from the insurance agency. Jane lived in King of Prussia where I grew up. Mrs. T. knew one of my mother’s best friends from Lafayette Hill. And I passed out 40 bouquets.

But oh my, the trip to West Chester took me an hour and a half to get there. It was six o’clock work traffic and one lane was closed for construction on Route 202 from Paoli to Exton.

The flower delivery was delightful though. Fifty bouquets of enchanting blooms: blushing pink miniature roses, aster, goldenrods, little potted plants wrapped with orchid-colored paper, about to bloom buds, pussy willows, and many other varieties of nature were passed out. (Some sort of pretty grass and heather too.)

Well, the wonderful residents got the gift of flowers today without all of the hard work of bags of peat moss, fertilizer, hoses and pruning shears.

Oh, you are a blessing, Patricia, bringing all of these flowers. Gracious Lord, thank you for this nice surprise tonight.

My mother used to putter about or maybe I should say “potter about” since she was in the garden and the shed doing something……with string, pots, and anything garden-y.

I am 96. My girlfriend here is 95. I moved here seven years ago when my wife died. I wish you could meet my daughter. She lives in California. She is a writer too.

I always picked flowers like this for my Sunday dinner table. I put them in a crystal vase. The rosebushes grew to overflowing right by the picket fence.

I am going to give them to my sister. She is grieving right now.

Boy, I came into this room feeling grumpy. I sure can’t be cranky after being a part of all of this excitement.

I love you! I love you! I love you! Do you love me, Patricia?

I haven’t gotten flowers like this since my heart-throb gave them to me!

These roses evoke such memories. My mother-in-law gave me a rose bush when we lived with her when we first got married. When we moved, I dug it up and planted it in my new yard. I did that every time we moved. I have a little garden here where I live now and I planted it here. See these two little plants that you gave me. They are going to be in the ground by tomorrow. You’ll have to come back again to see me.

Today, I picked up my beloved flowers in North Wales and then drove 40 minutes to the next store. I always pick them up next to the dumpster. I didn’t see them “waiting” in the usual spot. I ran in and asked the lady who prepares the “spoils” for me. She said that the carts filled with many dozens of flowers were in the usual spot. “Oh, no, they are not there. Do you think somebody took them?”

Just then, another sales associate said that Mascaro, the trash company, came by and took all of the flowers and the dumpster contents. He did not know that I was coming by and he helped throw them away.

Oh well, things like that happen! I had the 3 dozen from the first store to pass out.

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