Sweet hospitality

Fresh flowers are a hallmark of good hospitality.

When I go to a restaurant and find a fresh blossom at the table, I’ll invariably touch it and say, “Oh, it’s real!” and be impressed.

A thoughtful bouquet in the bathroom of a friend’s home wows me, too.

Today, our hosts are not present; they lent us their lake place for the weekend when they, alas, could not take advantage of it. Why leave it empty, they reasoned, and we were the fortunate recipients of their generosity.

I was a little skeptical yesterday morning when we left a literal snowstorm to travel north (north!) to the lake. I wore a down-filled parka. In May.

This climate change business brings new and horrible surprises every day, it seems.

But off we went anyway, hoping for the best.

And, despite the unseasonably cold weather and the missing hosts who are gracious and unsparing even in absentia, look what greeted me this morning in the front yard:


Fresh flowers.




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