Gotta Get A Gerbera

As a child, I loved pink: hot pink, Pepto Bismol pink, ballerina pink and most of all Schiaparelli pink. Pink was sassy, girly and fun. I wasn't fussy, I loved every shade of pink and everything I had was pink, except for my glasses - the frames were green but that's a whole other story.  I can't quite pin-point when my tastes changed.

I became drawn to shades of orange: Smartie, Pumpkin, Terracotta, Hermes; I have names for them all. Wondering why I was addicted, I looked up the healing properties of orange: apart from being cheery and non-constricting, it has healing powers allowing one to think creatively, it urges a sense of freedom. It ignites a fierce fire within me demanding I celebrate life. That sounds about right.

So you can imagine how excited I was to see the all the flowers arrive. The bellies of the Gerbera petals were an orange-y brick tinged with saffon at the tips, they begged to be stroked like the underside of a child's chin. Softly. The  pointed green suit of armour overlapped and standing guard.

The tulips, so tightly closed, looked like they were holding in the cusp of their petals, a dying ball of fire.

Until I die, I shall call this brain coral but it's name is elosia Cristata

Stocks

Peony

Dahlia

Anthurium

Raspberry Ripple Rose

Astilbe

Greeneria Exotica

Mark Rose is a wonderful friend and incredible event designer and florist. When he was younger Joanne, his mom, would send him out into the garden to pick flowers. He would come back with an armful. As she did not know all the names, she'd make up something fantastical. I love her all the more for doing that!

I have no idea what the above greenery is. Amanda found it in her garden. But henceforth, I shall always know it as Greeneria Exotica. 

Euphorbia

Oncidium Orchid