We're not the most wonderful rose growers. Neighbors around us seem to do better, I think with all of our trees in the back and the limited light in the front, and the preference for vegetables in the best light locations, we don't try hard enough. Still, we have a few rose bushes that produce. This one, a salmon colored rose, is the most fragrant one we have (surprisingly, the Mr. Lincoln's used to be wonderful, but have suddenly stopped their doft). Anyway, we started a tradition back a few years ago when Ayla was a baby of giving her a rose when her parents take her home. The first year we did it she was so insistent that we went in the late fall from giving her dried blossoms to little dried leaves all through the winter. When she suddenly announced one year that she was too old for flowers (she always took them home and lovingly placed them in water), I about cried. She repented of that and now both her and Tavian get their regular flower on the way out of the driveway. Tavian, who tears them up, sweetly smells the rose first. Ayla is more careful with hers. These are the reasons for the roses we grow. Our barely producing bushes hardly ever have more than one or two sweet smelling blossoms. But, it's enough for our babies when we say goodbye. It would be a sad yard I think, filled with roses, with no little hands to place them in.

I'm bringing Xanga back - drop a comment if you're with me!