Blooming with Odds and Ends


             Urnwithknobs

When the urn was younger she did
what was expected of her. She stood outside and held plants. More often
than not the people passing by, praised the flowers that grew from the
plants she held. She knew her role and she was happy.

And in that happiness she looked around-

and discovered that life was full of surprises-

and that being a planter was just the tip of the iceberg.

You can be whoever you are, and more importantly, those odds and ends you gather, can bloom the prettiest flowers.

photo: French antique garden urn tipping her iceberg and blooming anew.

Notes:

Making new with old things.

Decor 8

Petits Things



Comments

12 responses to “Blooming with Odds and Ends”

  1. Blessings
    Love you
    Jeanne

  2. And that is the beauty of choice.
    Suzanne, the Farmer’s Wife

  3. Sjo simple yet so profound.

  4. i love seeing the extraordinary in what most people would call ordinary.

  5. I agree, there is a useful purpose and a “retired purpose”. Sorta of like a racehorse or a greyhound. When it’s usefulness has reached its peak, it is put out to pasture to rest and renew and enjoy no other purpose than just “being”.

  6. A planter after my own heart, in more ways than one!
    I loved the sentiments of this post, very, very much. You are so gifted, Corey.
    xo Isa

  7. What great perspective you have. I am so blessed to have discovered several new on-line blogging friends that have opened up a whole new way of being and seeing for me!
    Denese

  8. What a beautiful post and great idea to use an old garden urn.

  9. SweetPeaSurry

    You certainly have a unique and pleasant way of seeing things. I mean really seeing them, not just glancing their way.
    You’re prose is eloquent. It immerses one in thought and feeling.
    Thanks

  10. You write so purrty! I love life through your mind and heart.

  11. And sometimes a screwball will put a cigarette out in the urn when you’re not paying attention to the real world.

  12. A very late comment but I have to admit that I can remember a time when women were the “urn” and we struggled and wriggled and bloomed our way into being whatever type of urn we wanted to be.
    From a late blooming urn. 😉

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