Bouquet Christmas Quotes

Dusk had fallen, and when I stepped outside, I was drawn to the light spilling from the barn, golden and inviting. I poked my head in. Margaret had outdone herself. The long tables were covered in cream linen. Squash-colored tapers stood tall in sparkling silver candelabras. Fat bouquets of sunflowers, goldenrod, and black-eyed Susans stuffed into mason jars were surrounded by tiny pumpkins and crab apples. I looked up to see a thousand white Christmas lights hanging from the rafters. The whole room glowed.

To have a man kiss you in a women’s jail is a gift better than any birthday or Christmas present. It’s better than a bouquet of roses. It’s better than a warm shower. I could imagine living in this jail for years and living for every workshop day and that male kiss on my cheek. That kiss was rain, sunshine, and the sweet air of outside. Yes. I knew I’d even sit there and glue stupid things onto cardboard sheets just to get that kiss again.

All my hard work had come to fruition that day: the new fireplace housed a might Yule log that warmed the room, casting reflections across the crystal and silver. I admired the forest green of the brocaded furniture, and the holly gathered in red ribbons hung about the walls. I decided that whatever temper Michael might be in, I would not let him spoil our first Christmas. The new damask cloth was spread with a fine repast: Peg's own Yule cakes looked even daintier than those I had already sampled. A great wheel of cheese had pride of place, beside magnificent pies of game and fruit. On a great round platter was a salamagundy salad as fresh as a bouquet of flowers; concentric rings of every delight: eggs, chicken, ham, beetroot, anchovies, and orange.

The town seemed to be full of oddities. Like the garden of strange snow statues, carved to look like little round men with jaunty black hats and carrots for their noses. And the leafy green bouquets with white berries tied up in bows hanging over archways all around town, often with two people smooching beneath them, as if the leaves were sprinkled with some kind of love potion. And then there was the large rotating contraption of wooden animals spinning round and round as jaunty music played from a hidden speaker. Even stranger, several children were riding on these animals, squealing in delight as they spun. Looks like fun, Sally couldn't help thinking.

Her grandmother’s pearls encircled her neck and she carried a bouquet of all white

Decaf,” she added quickly. “Good

THE MOST FAMILIAR wedding rituals can transform themselves into meaningful traditions when it’s your wedding. The tossing of the bouquet, dancing with relatives you haven’t seen in years, the achingly embarrassing toasts…I wanted it all, and I loved every minute of this Christmas wedding.

For those who don’t want a lot for Christmas… Other than a hot cowboy, and multiple orgasms.