A bouquet of florist roses in February is a cheerful thing, but nothing compares to sweetly fragrant, fully blown, double garden roses, just at the point of dropping their petals. A double rose is in essence a combination of two roses, one on top of the other.
These pink beauties came from our favorite David Austin variety, "Brother Cadfael."
“Happiness,” Cadfael thinks as he floats on the River Severn, “consists in small things, not in great. It is the small things we remember, when time and mortality close in.”
Speaking of lovely, anyone visiting Seattle this week would wonder why a person would live anywhere else? Mountains are out in all directions, Mt. Rainier looming in the distance, not a cloud in the sky and perfect temperatures in the mid-70's. Come back in January.
It is very lush and green. That winter-like atmospheric river this week watered deeply, so rare in June when I'm already dragging hoses around just trying to keep up. And now with warm sun hitting the flowers, it could be our most beautiful early summer garden.
At 3:30 am, there was a hint of light in the sky, and at 6 am the sun is already shining through the kitchen windows, showing off the dirt. A good afternoon for that clever outdoor Windex with the hose attachment-- it isn't perfect, but no ladders required.
We have a Symphony concert on Sunday afternoon, that's about it. Then I'm going to Twisp on Monday, the only visit to squeeze in during this busy and too fast month of June.
Have a good weekend.
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