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I bought myself a bouquet of red roses at the beginning of the week. I think there is a saying that says something about flowers and books feeding the soul. It’s true. I love the flash of crimson I glimpse out of the corner of my eye when I walk through the dining room and I love sinking my nose into a blossom for a faint scent. Faint because these roses don’t smell like the ones in my mom’s garden smell. Strong, heady and delicious in June, little blossoms that look wilder than cultivated. Those are real roses, good for feeding all senses.

But it’s winter. Mild for New England, but winter just the same and June is months away.

For now, a bouquet of roses from Aldi’s is enough.

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