In addition to the glorious new weeping plum below the dining-room window, we have an indoor cherry blossom, care of the Co-op. The beauty of this is that while it smells wonderful and has little petals that fall in a picturesque manner, nobody can get in and spread a blue tarp under it, grill cheap, smelly meat, and talk drunkenly at the tops of their voices. I call this, "The Return of Wabi-Sabi" and chuckle to myself, although nobody else seems to know what I'm talking about.
It's even supposed to produce an abundant crop of real cherries, all indoors. Bring it on! (as we venturesome types like to say).