I was still half asleep this morning when I thought, ” It’s about time to start thinking about pruning the roses when we have a sun break.” Then I remembered that I do not have any roses that need pruning. And when I walked to the dining room for breakfast in wet, blustery weather, I noticed that “our” roses all seem to have been magically pruned. I did bring a couple of roses here with me. This favorite, “Jude the Obscure,” we had to pull up by the roots by the trellis it was all grown through. I was pretty sure we murdered it, but we planted it next to my front door. Every time I go out, I say, “Hang on, Little Tomato.” And sure enough, I can see some very tiny buds emerging. And I brought this miniature potted rose. It is a beautiful, tiny, fragrant peachy-yellow. Meg bought it for me years ago when she was here to see me through a bit of surgery. It is definitely a survivor. However. the truly magical thing about it is that my beloved bay tree seems to have planted a seed in the pot! I tried everything to root cuttings from it to no avail, so it just carried on inspire of my futile efforts. The original tree began as a tiny plant from Filoli, was ripped up by its roots as a bush to come to Oregon, where it was pollarded every year and covered with lights year round outside my kitchen window.