Finally it was dug up to make way for other plants. It was relegated to the rear of the garden, on parole, so to speak. It still received attention but it was now without expectation. As the season progressed and the buds formed I noted that they were fewer in number. My thoughts were that the move had been too traumatic and these were in fact the last throws of a dying rose.

Imagine my delight when the strongest of the buds burst into flower, my 'Golden Rose' was ready to face the world. I herewith commend to you the ugly suckling that finally became a rose.

There was the usual profusion of Daffodils, a light sprinkling of Tulips, some beuatiful Iris and of course the gardner's earlt delight, the Peony. They are so colourful and yet so fleeting. The only way to preserve them is through photography....... mmm.. maybe next year.

Here we have the Lancastrian Red Rose, you'll notice I have enclosed it in a frame to separate it from the White Rose of Yorkshire, we don't want that little dispute flaring up again. Now the more discerning horticulturists

among you may be getting out the old magnifying glass to take a closer look at my ' specimens ' Some may even be prepared to take me to task, don't bother. I am a please yourself gardner.... my wife gardens... and I please myself.

I am not into growing vegetables. I did not fight my way to the top of the food chain to become a vegetarian!