I swear…I swear, I promise, I absolutely sincerely insist with my hand on a 5 lb Hershey Bar (with or without almonds) that I did not notice this before I gave myself my generous scoring of points yesterday.
The integrity of this blog is dependent on my full disclosure. I cannot cultivate a community of like-minded humor aficionados if I am not fully honest. I cannot hope to build a world where Martha Points have merit and meaning if I am blasé in my appraisal.
I promise all those things. Truly. Hand still on chocolate.
So yesterday I posted this picture of the champagne in it’s lovely bucket, next to a vase of hot pink gerber daisies:
And then yesterday, while I was fidgety and restless and uncomfortable with this stupid virus I decided I would try and take some pictures of the flowers before they wilted. And that’s when I noticed this:
Do you see it? Here, let me zoom in:
At first I was indignant that the flowers I bought on Saturday were already turning brown on Monday. I was ready to stomp around righteously (although that probably would have made the headache worse) that my $3.99 Trader Joe’s gerber daisies had failed to deliver. For $3.99 I do believe I am entitled to more than 24 hours of radiant hot-pink beauty.
But then I noticed that the discoloration was highly localized, no other petals, no other flowers. It was only that one place where the petals were that dark, crispy brown.
Wait…did I just say crispy?
Scroll back up and look at the photo from the party. Note the glistening champagne bucket, the robust magenta flowers, the candle…
Yes, dear readers. I flambéd my own flowers.
I am not to be trusted. Not with open flame, not with sharp objects, not with medications that may effect my ability to drive or operate heavy machinery. I complained about needing to put safety latches on the bathroom for the sake of the cat? I, apparently, should come with self installed bumpers. And smoke detectors.
I take comfort only in knowing that a house full of people could probably have responded relatively quickly to the centerpiece going up in flames, regardless of how many mint juleps they’d had.
But, for the sake of the blog, for the sake of those people who come here for my honesty and integrity, to ensure that your faith in the validity of the Martha Points is unshakable, I hereby deduct 10 points.
It’s simply the right thing to do.