I’ve been in Greece for the past month. It’s off season here, so lower prices and uncrowded museums, but other than one glorious week of crisp sunshine, a series of gales has made it mostly an indoor adventure.
The intention was a belated honeymoon, but as a sailor I’ve learned to be ever-flexible. In the meantime, this trip’s become a perfect writer’s retreat. I’ve made substantial progress on revising The Navigator, which will be published in time for summer beach reading. More to come on that next month.
Meanwhile, a few discoveries: Minoan seafaring history is fascinating. Farmer’s market feta is like mixing the dual glories of cheese and butter. Oregano potato chips get a surprising thumbs up. And fennel toothpaste? Not my thing.
We’ll do a honeymoon redux once we get on the boat, which is rapidly becoming an actual object of shaped aluminum rather than a fantasy in my head. We even got to put our hands on her in January, when she was a series of ribs and plates in a craft-welding workshop. Since then, she’s gotten conduits, decks, and windows. If all goes well, we’ll move aboard in November and have a long-term home again for the first time since Covid threw us off our game five years ago.
Crazypants to think it’s been that long. Time is such a tricksy beast. The passage of days becoming the passage of years. The bite of winter edging ever-closer to the revitalization of spring. If you’re feeling impatient to the next season, I’ve got a little something fun for you.
Fair winds,
Cheyenne
The Victorian Language of Flowers
Historical research takes me in all kinds of directions and one of them has been the Victorian Era’s language of flowers. Probably you already know more than you think.
You probably already know more than you think: 🍀 four-leaf clovers for luck, 🌹 red roses for passion, laurel for victory, and mistletoe for "kiss me."
If you lived within the 19th century’s strict bounds of social etiquette, especially as a woman, expressing emotions was highly frowned upon. So when your passions simmered, you wore them instead.
Nosegays, also known as tussie-mussies, were small bouquets pinned to a dress or carried as fashion accessories. They were also a popular way to send coded messages.
Some messages were sweet: It’s lovely to be with you or thinking of absent friends. Others were fiery: Lust, danger, hatred. Some were downright shocking: My regrets follow you to the grave.
Is your garden accidentally communicating heartlessness, or misfortune, or longing? 😱
Below is a downloadable cheatsheet I made you. You may be surprised what you discover. If nothing else, may it bring you a touch of spring in the last grasp of winter.
The Victorian Language of Flowers Downloadable PDF
And a few snaps from the past two months
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