Thursday mood

by chuckofish

My Wednesday mood was soured by a 2.5-hour long meeting. But I did get to pick up the first bouquet of my summer “subscription” from the campus farm. So I’m going to try to keep up with that vibe.

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Somehow, the presence of flowers can always bring you back from the ledge:

There were flowers: delphiniums, sweet peas, bunches of lilac; and carnations, masses of carnations. There were roses; there were irises. Ah yes–so she breathed in the earthly garden sweet smell as she stood talking to Miss Pym who owed her help, and thought her kind, for kind she had been years ago; very kind, but she looked older, this year, turning her head from side to side among the irises and roses and nodding tufts of lilac with her eyes half closed, snuffing in, after the street uproar, the delicious scent, the exquisite coolness. And then, opening her eyes, how fresh like frilled linen clean from a laundry laid in wicker trays the roses looked; and dark and prim the red carnations, holding their heads up; and all the sweet peas spreading in their bowls, tinged violet, snow white, pale–as if it were in the evening and girls in muslin frocks came out to pick sweet peas and roses after the superb summer’s day, with its almost blue-black sky, its delphiniums, its carnations, its arum lilies was over; and it was the moment between six and seven when every flower–roses, carnations, irises, lilac–glows; white, violet, red, deep orange; every flower seems to burn by itself, softly, purely in the misty beds; and how she loved the grey-white moths spinning in and out, over the cherry pie, over the evening primroses!

–Virginia Woolf, from Mrs. Dalloway

ALSO… I am updating this post to include that the news that the Blues won the Stanley Cup! Now there’s another mood. I woke up to excited texts and an entire Instagram feed of celebrating friends.

DN noted that the cup has passed to the Blues from the Capitals, so “we’ve got a real winning household.” Well, sure. But nothing beats the feeling of a St. Louis win.

So, to quote my siblings… Suck it, Boston.