dyed lillies and the evolution of a bouquet

My nephew and niece bought me flowers. Can you guess which bunch is from which? You'd be right! This photo doesn't quite do the screaming luridity of the blooms justice. When I was carrying them back to the office, people across the street were staring. I'm quite pleased by the concept; take a slightly morbid flower (the funereal white lily) and render it instantly child-friendly by dint of dipping it in some dye. The dye flushes the petals (and to a lesser extent the leaves) and hey-presto, the Toys-Я-Us bouquet is born.



They went to the kitchen table, where the morning sun would catch them and light them up like a World of Barbie torch. This is a low cat traffic area (lilies are toxic to all pets) but she's been known to hop up onto the table, so I carefully trimmed off the stamens as each flower opened to avoid her getting sprinkled with pollen and cleaning it off into her stomach. She's not a foliage nibbler, thankfully.



After a week or so, the flowers stopped opening and the leaves started dropping. Not bad going for a bouquet that's had so much done to it. The final phase of all my bouquets is to go outside, so I can enjoy the last shreds of brightness from the flowers without having to smell their rotting stems. The slugs and snails will eat their way through all this, lining their stomachs with pink and blue dye.



If the wind doesn't take it first.