Woke instantly this morning, noped out of another dream. Summer Glau in a ruffled red sheath and heels was trapped underground and the water was rising fast. A trap door opened in the floor, with the implication that it led to air and out. Nope, nope, nope, wide awake now, thanks.
In other news, the Other Human is apparently deeply appreciated by people more than just me. A clerk he sees often in the grocery store reached an arm from behind him, her hand holding a long-stemmed red-edged pink rose. "Take this home, you could probably use the brownie points." And the neighbor across the street, whose late-summer-fall garden has been usurped by dahlias, had stems broken in the recent winds. She gave him a pale yellow one as big as his head, with almost no stem.
We have a stack of three faux-slate ceramic tiles straight out of the wall-and-floor section of Home Depot. We attached rubber feet to the corners and use them as trivets. They are 6-inch, 8-inch, and 12-inch squares, of varying colors, and we have them stacked on the kitchen bar counter, off-center toward one corner. In the stacked corner is a rock, brought through customs by a British friend from her holiday at a ruined Scottish castle. The rock is roughly triangular, striped in subtle shades of grey, and echoes the corner of the stack.
OH put the dahlia in a rough-textured ivory-tan pottery bowl of water, set the bowl on the stack of tiles, with the rock on the lowest corner. So simple, so deliberate, so beautiful. (click pictures to enlarge)