There is a single rosebud on my kitchen windowsill. It is the palest of pale pinks. Clint picked it the other day from the rose bush in our front yard. And he put it in a little antique glass. I love that about him. I love that he cares for our flowers. I love that he took the time to cut that rose and put it in a vase with water. I love that he placed it on my kitchen windowsill, knowing that I would look at it all day long.
Just another little thing in my life that makes it more lovely.
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