John tells me there is a space in the world for white flowers,
that they are too often overlooked in favor of their flashier companions.
This may be true,
or it’s that he’s color blind.
Either way, around here, a rose in November deserves a little recognition for being brave.
Just for being,
no matter the color.
We are in the new house.
We are exhausted.
We are unpacking.
We are eating apple crisp.
We request that you please hold and enjoy some previously written posts until we find our way out of the cardboard box hell we have become mired in.
I’m taking pictures.
I’m planning blog posts.
A virtual tour is being contemplated.
But right now all I’m ready to share are these roses.
They are pretty.
I’m still working on the house.