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A couple days ago, my five year old granddaughter and I made a little bouquet. I have very few flowers this year so we used every bloom we could find around the yard – basil, mint, honeysuckle, tall phlox, and the lovely, purple ornamental grass spikes. She forgot to take the bouquet home so she wrote me this note.

The note my granddaughter wrote to me when she forgot her bouquet.

The note my granddaughter wrote to me when she forgot her bouquet.


It says:
“My heart was broken last night. I forgot my bouquet of flowers. I really hope I get them tomorrow.” And she signed her name.

Oh my heart had such a tug! The night she left the bouquet, I saw it still sitting on the table and considered driving it to her house!
Well, she was back today so we made a new bouquet. Flowering basil and mint, English ivy, ornamental grass flowers, a little butterfly bush and the very last Scepter’d Isle roses.

Her little bouquet.

Her little bouquet.


The rosebush is bare but this little bouquet went home with her, much to her delight. Love has a scent; it smells like mint and rose.

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