So yesterday, coming back from Wall-E with Eoghan, we came in the loading dock doors on the lower level. As we were waiting for the elevator, Jim handed me a bouquet of flowers.
No, this time, he hadn't put one over one me by stopping in for "Kleenex" or something. Rather, he'd grabbed them from the settee in the elevator lobby.
For which I give him credit, as I hadn't done so. "Oh, yeah, I saw those there earlier," I said. "Do you think we can take 'em?"
"Beats me. Should I leave them?" Jim asked.
I shrugged. "Nah, I mean, they were there, like, yesterday," I said, glancing at Eoghan for confirmation. Why, I don't know, since Eoghan hadn't been on the terrace level of our apartment since, um, ever. But still.
So we brought the random bouquet upstairs. I made the mixture of plant food and water, put it into a vase, cut the stems, and stuck the whole thing in. (I'm not good at arrangments; I leave that to my mother, who is wonderful with such things.) It looked nice, and basically wasn't dead yet, which was enough for me.
Then this morning I was making breakfast, and I looked over at the vase and said, aloud, "What the hell?!"
Because the water?
Had turned bright pink.
I kid you not. And seriously, science geeks, I do not understand this particular chemical reaction. I mean -- was the plant food to blame? The flowers themselves? What the hell kind of reaction is going on in my vase?
But in the meantime, I guess, well, meh. My flowers are still alive, which I can't always say the day after sticking a bouquet in water. If water so fluorescent it seems radioactive is to blame, then I'll take it.
Even if it really doesn't go with my color scheme.
1 comment:
Simple, the same reason the Costco daisies on my kitchen table have turned their water to an unnatural azure. The flowers have been dyed.
"your [florists] were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should..."
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