Monday Morning - back to 'normal'
Now that the rose sale is over, I can calm down. Get back to obsessing over the usual stuff. The rose sale was a success. We took in more money than ever before (that is, in my tenure as rose sale chair) The amount is variable because we give a discount for those who buy a dozen. But there are also the generous souls who buy a rose with a ten dollar bill and tell us to keep the change. So we never know how we’ll come out.

I was sweating it because I ordered 100 more roses this year. (Fit of enthusiasm, I guess.) I didn’t think the weather could get worse than it was last Mothers’ Day. Right. The wind was so dreadful that we were forced to sell in the church vestibule and under the back stairs. There were a few moments when I thought we would be blown away. The church doors kept blowing open. Every trip out to the van for more flowers was an adventure in flying branches and other assorted things.

[Speaking of the van......I wish today would be warm, dry and breezy so I could open all the doors and let it dry out. There was this little problem with the 15 gallon container with the tiny leak. We didn’t realize it was leaking until I saw something dripping out of the bottom of the van. After a panicky moment - “Is that my gas tank leaking?” - I was relieved that it was just water. The carpet is a little ‘juicy.’]

Despite the wacky we weather, we came close to selling out. There were about 35-40 roses left. Rick knows the concierge at the local assisted living facility, so he took the roses over there. They were very well received. Rick had helped Bridget deliver flowers during the big crunch times - Valentine’s, Christmas, Mothers’ Day. He remembered the look of sad anticipation on the faces of the women who were wondering if they would be receiving anything.
Chuch was shocked by the lady who came up to him and said, “You’re a von Huben, aren’t you?” I think this was a friend of my mother-in-law. As far as Chuck was concerned, the woman had ‘powers.’

So, today is just a normal day.
Praise the Lord.
(Wish I could spend a day on the couch with my hands slathered in Lansinoh and inserted in old sweat socks. Those roses had serious thorns.)