“Tattered” and “dirty” and “past its prime” pretty much sum up the condition of this old pail full of flowers. The once cheerful silk centerpiece made two summers of meals more pleasant but now begs for revival. I thought I’d deal with it come spring when I left it to weather winter on the side porch table during fall clean-up. Who knew I’d spring from my seat to dash out and admire the tattered thing awash in golden glory one sunny March morning? Be still my heart!
