The Rose

A month or so ago, I was working on a photo essay. I had the story and I needed photos. Six pages of content and six photos.

No problemo.

Except one page was titled "dilemma". How do you take photo of that? I asked my photo mentor Carol what to do. She suggested many options amongst which was a dictionary and a rose.

I had a dictionary. She had a plastic rose.

She "loaned" me the plastic rose. My husband was out of town at this time. So I spent weekend taking photos in various rooms of my home, wrapping up the project and posting it.

When my husband came back, he saw the rose and asked, "What's the plastic rose doing in our bedroom?" I explained to him.

Had I been efficient, I would have given back Carol her rose. But I forgot about it.

After a few days, the rose made it to my car. My intentions were to give it back to Carol. Good intentions are awesome.

My husband made another trip and came back and saw the rose in my car. "What's the plastic rose doing in the car?" he asked. He had completely forgotten my project by now. So I explained it to him again.

Last week, I finally took the rose from my car to my office. Carol works with me and I wanted to give it back to her. See what good intentions I have?

I ran into an executive type person on my way and he asked, "What's this rose about?". I mumbled something incoherent and ran to my office.

So the rose is on my desk now. My good intentions are starting to be effective. Except everyone thinks I am this crazy lady walking around with a plastic rose. And wondering who gave it to me and why.

Carol, if you are reading this, can you please remind me to give you back the freaking rose? Not that I am not grateful to you but this is tarnishing my impeccable reputation.

And yes there really was a photo essay.