Heirloom plants


As a child, I loved to spend weeks with my grandparents in eastern
Colorado.  One set lived on a farm, that I adored, but in retrospect it was
a hard life for my grandmother.  The yard was packed earth (soft on bare
feet unless you stepped on a sand bur).  The nearest thing to a flower that
grew was a Harison's yellow rose, on the south side of the house.  She
watered it with laundry rinse water, and other than that it received no
care.  I was thrilled to discover a Harison's yellow rosebush in our yard,
after we bought this house in Boise.  That bush was so hardy it was
trundled west along the Oregon trail by early pioneers.  The funky aroma
still reminds me of the farm.  Margaret

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