A Rose by any Other Smell

Roses are romantic.  For some strange, ancient reason, Roses have been designated the flower of love.  Women crave roses.  They adore receiving them from others.  Not all women mind you (a good friend of mine wants nothing more than daisies).  I am a lily person myself, but do enjoy someone presenting me with roses.  Odin is a rose person, not in the receiving, but in the possessing.  A rose, he says, is only a rose is if it a true, fragrant, thorny species that is untampered with genetically.

In previous summers, I was a rose girl.  My job was to sell the idea of love and romance to anyone who would listen.  I would entice, cajole, and threaten men (and women) into professing their appreciation for their partner, or attempt to woo an unsuspecting (or suspecting) candidate.  I did my job well.

In fact, Odin and I have played many antics on each other involving this chivalrous flower.  One such antic involved a delivery to Odin in which the rose girl conducting the delivery systematically removed the petals in a fanciful fashion in the presence of Odin and thereby presenting him with a thorny stem (which he kept for the remainder of the day).  Truthfully, “rose” is a word often used in conjunction with the word “bomb” to define the act of “rose bombing” one or the other (or in some cases both).  For example, Odin hired a rose girl to take a wilting rose and strike me with it so the petals exploded around me.  (This happened to be rose girl my ex-boyfriend cheated on me with – not that Odin should know – but when she informed me that he had purchased an actual rose for me, the payback was twice was satisfying).

Despite all this, Odin had never bought me roses as a truly heart-felt, joke free, romantic gesture.  At least, until it came up after a serious argument to which he had given me a sunflower (what kind of an idiot gives his girlfriend a sunflower as an apology??)  He has been buying me roses ever since then.

So, using these examples as a precursor, you will understand what is to come.

This afternoon we received a package.

Odin often receives packages in the mail – most of them are car parts or electronics (his hobbies) – so I thought nothing of it.  I didn’t even pay attention to the logo on the side, let alone connecting it with anything besides a recycled box.

When he got home, he asked if I would open the box with him as there were roses inside.  Roses which were, in some respects, for me.  When I asked Odin why he had purchase these special roses he replied in the only way that he could.

“Well, they have thorns.  And, more importantly, they smell.  Like a rose should smell.  Very nice and very strong.  They’re roses – real roses.”

Odin is planting me a garden of antique roses that, by his standards, fulfill every criteria of a rose.

Because a rose is defined, not by it’s name, but by it’s smell.



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. thethingaboutjoan
    Apr 05, 2012 @ 11:04:58

    I agree with Odin — roses should smell like… ROSES! Enjoy your rose garden!


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