Tuesday, 21 October 2014

The Name of the Rose

Dearest Emily,

As part of 'edit the five bedroomed house to move into a two-bedroomed former cattle-shed', from a house that's become the storage for a collective of stuff (work-wise and three previous homes,) a yard sale seemed like a plan.

So, Sunday played host to laying out our tout in the garage, whilst various people carried it away, after crossing my palm with a bit of silver. I'm quite enjoying the redistribution process actually Em, as you know I'm a bit of a car-boot sale fan- and the advantage to a yard sale of your own stuff- is that you can't be tempted to buy anyone else's. Also- it was good to see some familiar faces I've not caught up with in a while. So, coffee on, much chatter and less to move. Job's a good 'un.

As you approach the garage here Em, there's a veritable jungle of shrubbery on the left. That, and a rather lovely window I've always been fond of. It must have been salvaged from elsewhere in the house when the garage was added in the 1930's. No-one (including ourselves) in the rental-recent past of the property, has had the inclination to do more than cut-back the overgrowth. I dislike Sycamore's intensely, and they are taking over here in particular. However, in amongst the Sycamore advance, a resolute rose has withstood. All summer, it has offered up just one magnificent bloom at a time. As soon as that one dies, up comes another to take its place.

It is a scented rose, and I like it a lot. I have determined to find out its species. It's likely to be a very old variety, considering the lack of planting, and how the beds are still laid in a Victorian fashion. Strange little Chinamen ornaments were found in the shrubbery too, along with enough stones to have once comprised a summer-house. So, you can see my logic Em, 'tis an owlde rose. I shall continue to study my books, and see if I can name it.

In the mean-time, I'm not the only one to have noticed its solitary beauty amongst the invaders. Two lovely friends remarked on it at the yard sale- and advised how to make a cutting from it. I shall, and will see if my fingers have become green. I'd like to plant it next to Uncle Joe's new cabin.

However, I may not be successful in this mission. I decided the rose most worthy of remembering- so I have painted it for you Emily. Here it is.

Artistic license has allowed the removal of the hated Sycamores, and the sand-stone to be less crumbled. La Vie en Rose Em!

Saw a lovely pic of Annabel on facebook- how she is growing!

See you at Norton Green soon, sleep well.

Your ever-loving Grand-mother, GiGi xxxx

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