When I was a child, the house I grew up in had a huge rose bramble or thicket that gloriously took up about half the small side yard.
There was a rose there that I would love to grow again.
Unfortunately, in more recent years, a repair to the pipes running into the house destroyed the entire bramble. Read more…

Welcome to an almost daily feature during this growing season (whenever we have brags.) If you don't have your own garden, although pots count and they can go on stairs, tiny porches and window sills, please feel free to recount your adventures in others' gardens, grocery stores, food stands, or from the past.

I'll start.

This morning, early to preserve their freshness, I picked a beautiful bouquet of flowers from my garden for the dining room table. There were old fashioned pink sweet peas, white baby's breath, shining yellow buttercups, white yarrow and white Oxford daisies.
I could not pick the white foxglove with its subtle pink blush or the white peony with its splashes of red or any of the clusters of single white roses because they are not in full bloom yet. Read more…

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