Maria, a nurse's aide, walked in, having been missing a week working in another wing, and went directly to the large windowsill with its many bouquets. "Oh," she said happily,"It's dead." She was looking at an arrangement in a very handsome glass vase. She had admired the vase when the flowers arrived and I promised it to her. "No," I said to Maria, "they are not dead, they are now dried flowers. They still have a lot of color left in them. I will give you the vase but not yet."
The window sill is very deep. The window is triangular in shape jutting outside to 36 inches where the two panes meet at an angle. The very large sill was filled with glorious bouquets, a veritable garden. They all died. (Dried.) I wasn't quite fast enough to stop another nurse, who after putting me to bed, grabbed two containers and quickly left, saying, "I'll get rid of these dead ones." The space has since been filled by a small pumpkin and a bunch of authentically dried small globes called Japanese Lanterns.
Art just brought in a full blown huge pink rose which bloomed for one day despite having an ingenious private water tube attached to it. I tucked the rather wilted bloom into the dried arrangement in Maria's vase. It enhanced the group and made the pink rose look important again.
Confirming Gertrude Stein: a rose is a rose is a rose.