|Rosa Mr. Lincoln|
Sniffle, cough, hack, sniffle, sneeze, shivers, feverish... That was me last Tuesday. A drizzling, cold, gray day. What old ladies in Britan call "filthy weather'. Running from the car to the front door I was greeted by a magnificent view! The Mr. Lincolns that grow by the grace of God without much care from this gardener were offering me a show of warmth, color and grace in the midst of all that misery. Ran into the house, grabbed the secateurs, put on the slicker and wellies and ran back into the garden before the glorious color could be damaged by the threatening thunderstorms. Glad I did, oh yes, so glad. They have been my comfort and joy for the last two days while I wallow in bed with the flu and thunderstoms and even a small tornado rage outside. Thank you, Mr. Lincoln, after all these years you still know how to deliver peace and harmony to a disrupted world.