Yesterday, I visited the farmer's market and brought home an armload of blooms. It wasn't a special occasion — it's my habit.
Since I've been single, I've made the point of having fresh flowers in my home almost every week. Last week's helichrysum and cockscombs are sitting in a mason jar on my bedside table.
My bathroom and living room are filled with the sensual perfume of mexican tuberoses. Oxblood-colored chrysanthemums adorn my kitchen table. And each time I come home, I smile at how simple it is for me to make my own day.