I love flowers. Like, really love them. To me, having fresh cut flowers in your home that didn’t come from your own garden (unless you’re like, Oprah who has a million acres of roses that someone else tends to) is the epitome of luxury and for that reason – as well as others – I’ve been buying myself flowers since high school every now & then.

They’re just an indulgence. They’re really absolutely useless, they don’t do anything and then they just die so you have to throw them away and for that reason I’ve banned Blake from ever buying them for me because as much as I love them, I really do think they’re a complete waste of money. (So are greeting cards, for the record, unless they’re homemade.)

Having said that, I’ve bought myself flowers twice this month because I have the money to do so and I love them. Just grocery store flowers, nothing too fancy. The first bunch was roses that were a shocking $17.99 that died within a week. I gave each child a rose to keep in their room, which they loved, and the rest lived on my desk until they died. (I think the heat wave had a lot to do with their quick demise.)

Oddly, I bought these roses right after yoga class. This is odd because last night after yoga class, I bought myself some psychedelic carnations, which are the same colours that the roses were. These ones were also from the grocery store and were a more affordable $7.99. I love them. They’ll also last longer than the roses because carnations just do, but also because the heat’s not as crazy as it was a week or so ago.  Here they are:

I probably won’t buy myself flowers for a long time after this, but it’s still something I recommend if you happen to walk past a particularly beautiful bunch and have the cash to spare. It amazes me every time just how happy they make me. Maybe they’ll make you happy too.