One of my neighbors on our Buy Nothing Group was looking for white roses to propagate from cuttings. We have a wonderful display of tiny pink Cecile Bruners when they are in bloom. But they are pink, not white. I offered those, but told her she would have to bring her own clippers and take whatever she wanted. Another neighbor offered roses too, and eventually she was able to collect quite a few cuttings. Normally I would have taken the cuttings for her and left them on our porch, but my husband and I have been under the Covid seige for the last two weeks, and I haven't ventured out. It's one of the weirdest viruses I have ever experienced, and I do not recommend it. Yes, we are boosted and reboosted, and have done all the usual things to protect ourselves. But before Thanksgiving we had been going out and about, and well, I guess that's what happens when you rejoin the world no matter how careful you try to be.
We missed Thanksgiving entirely, and so did our kids and their kids. Somehow we all got bowled down like ten pins, one by one, and the only one left standing was our daughter who had this awful virus last Thanksgiving. She has managed to stay clear, thank goodness, but isolation in a house with two sick-o's is not much fun. But I digress.
My neighbor's request was a little spark, a glimmer, of joy. She was learning how to propagate from cuttings, and I was so happy that even though I am imprisioned by my contagion, I could provide something to help her. And besides, who wouldn't be happy to think that these lovely roses will bloom in another garden before long. I am sure she has just the touch needed to encourage new growth.
So from out of the dregs of this illness I am sending you this little story of hope for the future, gratitude for the grace notes of the present, and the most fervent wishes for your very good health through the holiday season!
