If you squint just SO, you can pretend that this flowerhead of lavender is outdoors, and not in my office with a medley of rhododendron leaves outdoors making a nice living mosaic in the background.
I swear the darling miniature daffodils are lasting splendidly because my office tends to be quite cool except when the sun is shining through the windows. They're such dear, happy, flowers, and their scent says spring, but not cloyingly so the way some think that other narcissus and hyacinths are. (I love them all, but I do understand that some fragrances can be a bit...overwhelming.
There have been bunches and bunches of standard yellow daffodils for sale as cut flowers in the past week or two, but I prefer to buy the bulbs, let them grow and flower. I'll plant these outside and if they grow, fine, if not, they can compost. They've already given me huge delight for the few dollars I paid for them.
The day of the snowstorm, when I went to town muttering and sputtering, this handsome and good-sized succulent ghost plant (Graptopetalum, but not sure of the species: paraguanense, probably) caught my eye and climbed into my cart before I could talk myself out of it. A kalanchoe followed suit, but this plant is just such a glorious crassula, I had to show it to you. It was a rescue mission, after all: it was getting overwatered and under-sunned, and now it's recuperating with the rest of my succulent obsessions.
Today, I suggested to my dear longsuffering spouse that we go for a drive. I bribed him with brunch in Berwick (at the Union Street Cafe) but told him I wanted to go to a nursery and get this specific plant that y'all talked me into.
Yup. One of the clivias came home with me. A small one, not nearly as expensive, and flowering nicely. Your advice, wisdom and good sense convinced me that I'd do just fine with it. It's in my office now, catching a little sunlight, and smiling.
Well, we're both smiling.