Chaos and change were some people’s middle names, Vicky decided. They could turn any situation influx into a doable mode and quickly adapted. Others, well it through them into a tailspin.
Oddly enough, her grandmother was one of those who handled change well. True she’d experienced a great deal in her lifetime, but so had others and they hadn’t fared as well. She adored her grandmother for her spirit, her spunk, her humour and her wealth of knowledge.
When she’d decided to open a flower shop, her grandmother had been behind her 100%. She even spent a couple of days a week with her arranging flowers and her bouquets sold as quickly as they were made since they were stunning.
She never overfilled a vase and it was usually exquisite if understated and perhaps that was part of the charm and beauty. Her sense of colours was astounding. She’d put colours together that Vicky wouldn’t have thought of and yet they worked. They brought the outdoors in.
She often based her colours on the season and when an event was happening, she often incorporated the event colours which became a huge hit and they always did well.
Of all her family, Vicky was most like her grandmother, in personality and stature. They often sat and shared jokes until tears ran down their faces and her grandmother would hop up off a chair and do a jig to a song on the radio. It was delightful. She had no compunction about dancing in front of complete strangers if the mood hit. Everyone loved her. And for her part, Vicky counted her lucky stars and blessings that she’d been able to spend quality time with her.
Her grandmother owned a sprawling big home and had asked her to come stay and she’d been delighted at the prospect. Often they’d sit out on the back patio and enjoy the evening breeze and the aroma wafting from her garden. And when she wasn’t at the shop with her, you’d find her puttering in the garden. She was such a delight, such an inspiration and Vicky felt bad for others who didn’t have such a wonderful woman in their life.