In the back yard this is as good as it gets for the rambler rose, Paul's Himalayan Musk, which is growing up a pine tree. Not so magnificent but a pretty good show for a rose that's about as big as a half-dollar. I've managed to cram back into the pine branches the wayward canes that slap the lawn-mowing guy across the face. I know he'll appreciate it.
Here's one of my darling grandchildren. He's a month shy of being 4 years old. Of the five of them he was the only one who wanted to help Grammy pull weeds at the back of his house to plant a pumpkin patch. Though he really doesn't look too happy about it here. I was probably hogging the hoe.