I’d like to tell you that I always make constructive use of leftover flowers, but really I don’t. Sometimes I admire them haphazardly shoved into a drinking cup by my sink until the water goes brown. Sometimes I construct them into things and model them in front of the mirror. Then I rip them apart and try something different until the stems are too short to work with and the petals are wilted. If my sister is in town, something like this happens.