I plan to give yellow roses to a friend of mine
here are my questions
1)How many should I give her?
2)What arrangements? In a vase or a bouquet
3)Should I add anything else in there?
We don’t have to answer this. You know your friend well and you know just what. Think. That is what you should do.
Chill. Don’t drive yourself nuts.
my group and I needs to make a flower arrangement for our project which will be passed on july 22. until now, we haven’t got any idea idea about what we would present. the project was announced last july 8. moreover, we had our exams week last july 13-15 and we haven’t got the time to meet each other and to plan. The flower arrangemnent is due wednesday! i really need help. thanks a lot.
You don’t say whether your arrangement has to be on a theme or can just be a general arrangement. General advice – put the largest and/or brightest flowers towards the bottom. Stick to just a couple of colours, eg yellow and white, pink and red, blue and white but you can use different shades of each. Make your framework of greenery first to give you a basic shape to work in.Put in some of your daintier material so that it hangs down a little and is a bit (or a lot!) lower than the edge of your container.(Obviously this only works if your container is not a flat bowl shape or is raised up from the table a bit in some way) Put one main colour making a rough curve from top right to bottom left and the other a rough curve going the other way. If you can find an attractive container this helps. You don’t need heaps of expensive flowers.See if you can find some attractive greenery. perhaps from one of your group’s gardens? If you use spray chrysanthemums remember you can take off some of the longer stemmed flowers from the spray and put them in individually, which gives a much better effect.
Good luck.
I want to arrange my own calla lily bouquets for my wedding and I want to find some good places to buy them from. Any Ideas?
Thanks
I’m not sure where Queensland is, but pretty much all areas have a high-quality florist where you can purchase them. They’re more expensive, but they’re also more beautiful. The flower shop I work in has calla lilies that look and feel so real, I’ve had people water them, LOL. They’re made of a rubbery type of plastic that feels like a real petal when touched. Also, if you can’t afford the silks at your florist, try Michael’s craft store– a lot of their silks are beautifully realistic and many flower shops buy them and sell them (shhh! haha). Good luck!
As they grew their roles as kings and queens became more familiar to them than their memories of England. Memory faded in the way that dreams do in the morning; occasional bursts of niggling remembrance, but full recollection just out of reach.
Lucy was the beloved one, the one who always supported her people, the one they could reach out and touch. Edmund was the lawgiver, surprising everyone with how quickly he learned the intricacies of the legal system. He was not afraid to speak out when he felt his it necessary. Susan was the politician, arranging alliances with visiting dignitaries and charming them with her wit and diplomatic skill, her elegant proficiency at being hostess mellowing even the most aggressive ambassador. Peter was High King, the leader of his armies, the one to whom all the others turned when they were unsure.
They held banquets for the smallest occasion, opening their doors to their populace, keen to demonstrate fondness for even the smallest of their subjects. And yet, Peter found, it was hard to pursue conversations when everyone was so eager to tell you how much they appreciated you. The courtiers learned that they did not need to bow each time he passed, but he could not convince them to give up the slight nod of deference. Then he stopped trying, and became used to it.
It wasn’t that any of the children were lonely as they danced towards adulthood. Lucy was still accepted by her people, still went for tea with the Beavers, and they were all surrounded by the crowds of the court. But they, all four, remained closest to each other. It was to Susan that Lucy went after attending the funeral of a centaur of whom she had been particularly fond. It was from Peter that Edmund sought advice when he believed one of the courtiers was a Calormene spy. And it was to Peter that Susan went each time she gently let down another suitor and deflected another marriage proposal.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t have married them, she supposed, as she tried to negotiate an advantageous alliance that didn’t involve tying either herself or Lucy to some distant prince, but that in doing so the group would split. And they were Queens of Narnia in their own right, were they not?
Peter asked her about it one evening when she stood on the balcony overlooking the sea, salty tears drying on her face. Why had she rejected the nobleman’s son, he wanted to know, when she was so obviously fond of him?
“I didn’t love him, he was just a nice man,” she replied softly. “It wasn’t his fault that half my heart belongs already to Narnia.”
Peter rested a knowing hand on her shoulder, giving her silent support. When she turned into his embrace, burying her face against his broadening chest, it was no different than any other time he had comforted her. He stroked her hair, made soothing noises, and she tilted her face up for kiss like she had when they were children. It was instinct that turned the kiss from a chaste press of lips to something more; neither of them had kissed that way before but it seemed natural to tip their heads and open their mouths. After all, they loved each other as they loved Narnia. They were Narnia.
There was no conscious realisation of what they were doing; all was a continuation of that first, true kiss. Peter settled on the embroidered couch, Susan in his lap, and they murmured gentle words to each other between kisses, touching each other’s shoulders and arms and waists. Peter’s hands on Susan’s breasts were soothing, almost unintentional, stroking her the way he calmed his horse. When Susan shifted her weight and felt Peter’s erection pressing up against her, it was impossible not to press back.
Even when their breathing became more laboured, their kisses never grew more urgent, still gentle encouraging licks and presses, their fingers white with clutching one another, the clothes between them hot and damp, their movements clumsy and beautiful.
When Peter came it was a constricted pulse against Susan’s petticoats, and he tipped his head back and gulped the air as Susan squeezed her thighs around him, shuddering with her enlightening release.
Even then, sweaty and entangled, as they shared a deep, exploratory kiss; even then, when they realised something between them had changed irreversibly, they never considered any alternative to accepting it.
It became a badly kept secret that King Peter rarely slept in his own bedchamber, though no comment was passed. And although Edmund frowned when he found out, he couldn’t quite fathom why the thought brought him displeasure. Peter and Susan were radiant and he could think of no reason to deny them their pleasure.
When Queen Susan’s stomach began to swell, and her gowns had to be let out, there was never any doubt that the child was the High King’s. The people of Narnia rejoiced that they would have an heir and the Golden Age was complete.
The baby was born in the spring, just as the flowers began to bloom. They called their daughter Arian, and no child was more loved. Queen Lucy was in attendance throughout the birth and was the first to lift the child into her arms. It was from King Edmund’s knees that the little princess took her first step. Each year her birthday was celebrated with the grandest feast of the year, the creatures of the country coming to attend her and lavish her with their affection. The little princess learned the ways of her land and was as fond of the woods as the palace, often spending the whole day with her animal friends.
It was on such a day as this, shortly before Arian’s eleventh birthday, when she was happily sharing tea with Mr Tumnus, that the four kings and queens stumbled back into Spare Oom.
It took only moments for the combined weight of their memories to send them sinking to the floor. Susan looked up into Peter’s childishly round face and her eyes filled with tears. Edmund bit his lip and avoided looking at them.
When Susan sobbed herself to sleep there was nothing little Lucy, sitting with her arms around her sister, could do. There was no way back through the wardrobe, the professor said. Susan’s daughter was gone.
She tried to talk of Arian to Peter once, in the days after their return. He gripped her hand until his nails made her bleed, but he never spoke a word.
The shared memory of another life was oppressive and the children drifted apart, unable to speak of what had happened, unable to maintain that closeness with those who reminded them of their other lives. But it was still there.
Sometimes Susan forgot and took Peter’s hand, kissed his lips instead of his cheek. Once she bought a little handkerchief embroidered with the monogram AP, and then realised none of her siblings had those initials. One day late in March, when he was fifteen, Peter returned home with a small package, and Lucy asked if they might have a little party, and Susan burst into tears. Their mother, confused, saved the iced buns for another time.
When Susan brought home her beau, a tall American sailor, Peter couldn’t eat his dinner and hardly spoke a word all evening. When Susan lost her virginity for the second time she returned home and sought out her brother, curling silently in his bed, pressed against his warm body.
It was only then that they consciously stepped over the line, just once, to let themselves memorize every touch and every breath, so that, when they had to return to being brother and sister, when they could no longer be King and Queen, they had a way to remember Narnia.
…wtfincest.
I am her wedding planer (This is my business and I’m giving this service to her for free.) I also am making her silk flower arrangements for free. I was just informed by another of her aunts (on her mothers side – who made it clear that she wouldn’t be able to assist with any details of my niece’s wedding because she had to plan her step-daughters wedding) that she’s making the arrangements for the bridal shower. I was informed that I’m expected to show up and where she’s registered and which gift in particular I needed to give her. (I also have a wedding planned for the day of her shower and CAN NOT attend as I have to work!)
I think what I’m giving her is plenty of a gift – but wanted to ask if I should be expected to give her more in addition to what I’m giving already for free.
That’s just it – the gift she wants me to get get her is the MOST expensive one. I’m already giving her something wirth over $1500 including the flowers….I’m not spending $500 on this present. I was told to "send the present regardless of being able to be there…."
I think what you are giving her is enough. She could of had to plan the wedding herself or hire someone and she could have ended up paying for flowers herself. The other aunt has no right calling you and telling you you have to get her a gift and what gift you have to give. I would simple tell her you wont be able to attend the shower because you have to work and if she doesn’t like it she can shove it.