I have been sorting out dried, pressed flowers today. Some of them are over 30 years old. They were pressed by my mother. I found lots of Lobelia, the blue ones especially have kept their lovely bright colour, even down the years. The purple ones are now a deep shade of aubergine. How lovely to see them, preserved as a memory to Mum.
She loved flowers and there were some beautiful ones at the funeral. Here too, are some Buttercups and Daisies, childhood favourites. Making daisy chains and discerning whether or not you have a fondness for butter. The name 'daisy' comes from "day's eye" because the whole head closes at night and opens in the morning. Chaucer called it 'eye of the day'. Which is sweet really.
The ones on the right are flowers that I have pressed in her old flower press. Glad I took it on.