Unitarian Hymnal Sing-along

In which Kathryn attempts to sing a different song everyday from the Unitarian Universalist hymnal, 'Singing the Living Tradition'. Earlier posts are based on songs from the Reader's Digest songbooks she found at yard sales as a child, including: 'Reader's Digest Treasury of Best Loved Songs', 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook', and 'Reader's Digest Family Songbook of Faith and Joy'. Bonus Folk song material from: 'Folk Song USA', by John and Alan Lomax.

17 December 2005

"Love Sends a Little Gift of Roses"

This song feels a bit ordinary to be in here. And it reminds me too much of 'Serenade' from a few days ago. But it's ok, it was fine to sing it today, and it felt like a good session of experimental singing, at least.

I love roses, which makes my tastes incredibly ordinary. It's the smell--therefore roses with no smell, are no good. The scent of roses is so rich, so exotic to me. Every year my daughter and I go to a specific perfumed-oil shop, and we each carefully pick out a scent to bring home. Last year I gave in to my desire and purchased 'Night of Roses', which was one of at least four different rose-based scents that the shop carried. Today, I showered later in the day, after I had already sung my song of the day, and I put some of the oil on. I can still smell it faintly at my wrist.

In the past couple of years, I also associate the scent of roses with a young client of mine who died. I had bought some rose-scented massage lotion on a whim, and she was the only one who chose it. I remember working on her, the scent of roses allowing me the sensation of catering to a queen in some ancient realm. I was honored to be at her service. After she died, her sister came in once and we used the last of it in her massage. I can't find it anymore.

I've never been able to grow roses anywhere that I've lived, from my childhood home all the way to here, where we just don't have a spot that gets enough sun. I have friends who have whole yards filled with roses, and I am jealous. The scent of roses can carry me away, and I don't believe that thrill would wear off soon.


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