Don’t get me wrong, I do not resent spending money on flowers for my Valentine. In fact, for many of the years I was working, I bought her flowers every Saturday when we went on our usual dawn-patrol-to-Waitrose shopping trip. I enjoyed doing so. She has rarely been without flowers. I will admit that, when work gave up on me, I got lax and flower-buying fell in its frequency. That may have been due to being nervous about money but was more likely to have been about not going to the shops every Saturday morning when the flower stall on our local market was around. I am now taking steps to correct my oversights.
What does irritate the hell out of me is the outrageous hike in flower prices at different flower shops for this annual declaration of undying love and devotion. £4.50 for a single red rose, indeed; admittedly a perfectly formed and gracefully presented red rose but a single red rose nonetheless. On a normal week, you can buy a whole bunch of roses, containing probably 10 since we decimalized and abandoned the good ol’ dozen, for little more than that. Bouquets of flowers, that last week were selling for less than £10, are suddenly £20 or more.
I didn’t pay enough attention to spot the actual day that heralds this 100% or more inflation vis-a-vis flower prices. I must try to remember to do so next year. Wait, though, it’ll probably happen again very soon. The second annual outrageously expensive flower day is fast approaching: Mother’s Day on March 2nd. It should more accurately be called Mothering Sunday and is supposed to be about those of a religious disposition visiting their mother church rather than bestowing gifts upon their mothers but, hey, it’s a darn good excuse to sell outrageously expensive flowers again, isn’t it?
I must monitor the price of flowers and see when it goes through the roof as March 2nd approaches.
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