When I left you last week, you had kitten shots but no flower shots. My apologies for the oversight. To rectify that situation...
It happens that we find ourselves in the tiny scrap of what used to be Manhattan's flower district each Monday. There are still a few remaining wholesalers of fresh flowers; a handful will sell retail too. Far too many of the small number of shops sell silk flowers, which miss the point entirely if you ask me. They must pay the rent better than fresh ones because about half are dedicated to only silk these days.
The first time I went into one of the fresh flower retail shops, I was picking up irises for the ikebana workshop that sparked my new passion. I was happily surprised to discover that, for once, Manhattan was cheaper than the outer boroughs. Fresh cut flowers are significantly less expensive in the flower district than at my local corner shop with an outdoor flower seller. And fresher and have a much better variety.
I realized it would be the work of an instant to pop in each week and buy the flowers for the Temple in Brooklyn and thereby save them some money. How I do love a bargain. Plus there is the added benefit that I can pick up a few stems for myself to make an ikebana arrangement.
It is all so completely and utterly pointless, if you don't count the pure pleasure of every single aspect of it. But I do.