Six years ago my husband and I moved into this house. We bought it in the late Fall and we took possession in January. In May of that year we got married. It was a small civil service, with just our immediate family, plus one best man and one maid of honour. No flowers, no cake, no photographer. A few weeks after our actual wedding we had a big reception with all of our friends and family, but it was still really low key. Which is how I wanted it.
The day before our wedding I looked down our driveway and discovered beautiful irises blooming in our garden. They were a lovely sort of deep purple-blue, and I thought they would match nicely with my blue wedding dress. So I cut a bunch, wrapped a piece of blue ribbon around them, and carried them as my bouquet when I walked down the aisle.
Each year since the irises bloom just in time for our wedding anniversary, and I cut some and bring them into the house. It’s a small thing that makes me happy.
So what’s wrong with this picture?
I took it three weeks ago! Three weeks ago I plucked the very last of the withering irises and brought them inside. Our anniversary is this week and the irises are all long dead and gone.
Um, excuse me Mother Nature but what the heck is up with this weather that has my darn irises blooming a month ahead of time?