Rosey

Several rose bushes survive around the yard. Many others are long gone. This one started out here where you see it, planted unceremoniously at one end of the clothes line. Years ago, we dug it up and transplanted it in two other places. One of them you can see in the background on the left, against the fence that runs along our northern property line. The other is in front of the house next to the driveway. The original re-sprouted from roots.

Hot pink roses provide some nice spots of color. I think it's a variety of "eglantine," wild rose or sweet briar.

Tasha's grooming appointment went well. Sort of. She hates it. And she hates it when I leave her there. But she gets back to her old self after a while, especially when we come home to lunch and treats. She looks so much better. I'm hoping to get a photo shoot in before next Tuesday. If Mademoiselle Chose (Miss Thing) will cooperate.