Silk Flowers

Silk Flowers May Affect Testosterone Levels in Middle Aged Men.

Ten years ago, I would never have thought I'd be writing about silk flowers. It’s amazing what a decade can do to change a person’s focus in life. Well, a decade and a spouse who's begun her first business creating and selling them to be more accurate. I don't want anybody thinking I gravitated towards working with silk flowers deliberately or as a natural trend in my life as I grew older. Really, I didn't.

But it's not just writing about them that I do. Oh no. You see, in order to be able to write about silk flowers with authority, it's a good idea to know something about them first. And that usually means doing a bit of research; perhaps talking to a few people knowledgeable about such things. And in my case doing things that would normally be anathema to the average red blooded American male of stereotypical dimensions such as myself.

Yeah, I'm talking about things like shopping at craft stores, discussing color schemes with sales representatives and sitting for hours trying to figure out how in the heck you're supposed to know whether the Gerbera daisies are okay to use with the Eucalyptus sprig in the grey ceramic vase with winter colors on it.

Give me a pair of vise grips, a blow torch and some bailing wire and I'll make anything you want in an hour. Give me some silk flowers and vases though and I'll be gone and on an extended coffee break within minutes. I don't know, but maybe it's a chromosome thing or genetic. There aren't any studies yet. Probably because all the male scientists are too busy finding out how to create a light beer that might actually have alcohol in it.

I used to enjoy going to the hardware store, but now I find myself in and out of there in minutes. It's just not the same trying to explain the proper shade of silk flower tape as it is discussing the merits of carbide tipped skill saw blades. I'm not even going near the bar anymore. I didn’t like the look my buddy gave me when I started talking about the sweet heavy glass bases I found for our Amaryllis selections.

But here I am writing about silk flowers a few times a week because like any good spouse, I want my other half to be happy and do well in whatever she does. If I'm lucky she reads that line and pities me enough to let me out of going to Pottery World next week although that’s doubtful. That doesn't really bother me nearly as much as the fact that I can't go to the department store anymore without finding myself comparing our silk flower arrangements to the ones on the shelves and noticing that they didn't use nearly as nice a stem as we have though. I've almost found myself commenting on them to the nice little old ladies browsing next to me on occasion. I'll have to watch that.

It is in the end, all my fault really. One of the things that attracted me to her years ago was her style and talent. She has a way of just throwing things together that makes a man such as myself willing to write bad checks. Or was it how she walked? I can't remember anymore. I remember that I had noticed it within minutes of meeting her, whatever it was. Of course, it could just be that chromosome again, but again, apparently all the male scientists are too busy researching beer and chasing women to figure it out.

Whatever the case I noticed her. It didn't take long to notice how skilled she was in so many things. I watched her on several occasions with almost no advance notice put together some killer silk flower arrangements for various friends and family. And Holidays? Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, all these and more are an excuse for her to let loose and turn our home into a showcase of color and style. It's like walking into a photo shoot for Better Homes and Gardens or something.

So being the brilliant guy that I am, I suggested that with all that talent and experience, why not do it for a living? Of course, like the stereotypical male that I am, I couldn’t let it go at that no. In short order I had agreed to handle all the promotional and sales related work as well. And heck, since I would be helping with that, I'd help with actually getting supplies, putting things together and everything else.

It's times like that, when a guy is letting his errant chromosome and love for a woman get him into trouble, that a small part in his brain tries to make itself known by weakly muttering a few pieces of common sense in the back of his mind. I think it's the part that helps with self preservation, but being a guy, I guess I ignore it a lot. It whispers things like "Don't you think that’s too much charcoal fluid?", or "It might be best if you unplugged that before taking it apart." It's only later that I even realize it was there trying to get my attention. Usually while the bandages are being applied and I'm filling out an insurance form.

At any rate, I can at least be thankful that I haven't suffered any permanent damage as of yet. The burns from the hot glue have healed nicely. You can barely see the scar anymore.

I guess it's all worth it really. Guys are built to survive doing stupid things so I'll probably live a bit longer. Heck, another ten years and I might even be skilled enough to put together something she wont want to burn the second I turn my back.

What counts is that my Spouse is doing really well, and her store is growing strongly. Alicia's, which is what we have named her business, climbs the rankings, and she makes sales and new friends as she networks and promotes herself. I continue to learn and write about our new found career while finding innovative ways to draw blood with pliers, and in a few years who knows? I could very well still have enough testosterone and fingers left to do some fishing when we're rich and sitting atop our silk flower empire.