The salmon colored rose that Big Lady photographed right as she was losing the light the other day, reminded her of two things: she hadn't posted to the blog in some time, and now, after many days of not having posted, she remembers fondly her father-in-law, very recently deceased, and how happy he was to share pictures of his Peace roses, or his tomatoes-in-a-bag in his greenhouse, cascades of lavender bordering the long driveway in Rochester, or borders old-fashioned iris and daffodils just bursting with color. Pop, as he was known, was also very fond of calling Big Guy on weekends and inquiring as to how Patrick and I were doing, what were we up to, what mischief had we discovered in the past week. He felt a great deal of joy asking Big Guy about Patrick and I, and so, we remember Pop with probably one of the best roses Big Lady has ever photographed. Rest in peace, Pop, you're in a far better place where the roses never need watering, never wilt and fall apart, and smell heavenly on the evening breezes.
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