Smell the Roses

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On the occasion of my first Christmas here in the UK, my in-laws funded me getting ALL THE ROSES for our garden. It ended up being 6 or 7, most of which did decently. When we moved, I insisted that they come with us if at all possible. We moved at the right time of year for transplanting, and my mother-in-law watched them for me until we could get them in the ground (and by ‘we’, I mean her and her gardener, because she’s awesome). If we couldn’t’ve, she was happy to buy me new roses, but like. These were *my* roses, and while new roses would have been mine too, I’m glad that these could come with. And they have done well here, better than the solid clay soil that was our old garden.

I was actually outside to observe them, because we were running some Father’s Day cards over to Z’s parents briefly. We’re still socially distancing to the nth degree, but we waved through the window at least. Z was also able to confer with Mum on something important. She’s had a tooth go funny, and she’d just gotten off the phone with the dentist confirming her a prescription for antibiotics. Z is a champ and went to fetch it, and found a pharmacy that was open so that he could fill it for her as well. It didn’t take too long in the scheme of things, but like. Still. It’s Sunday and in the UK that means short trading hours, so at least it all worked out for the most expediency.

Past that, we’ve just won parents of the year. *laughs* Z remembered that we hadn’t read the book we got Smaller for her birthday… and couldn’t remember her opening it either. So he went and looked in the cupboard, and there was the book, AND her main present — Boppi the Booty Shakin’ Llama. I mean, she got lots of goodies for her birthday, and she certainly isn’t gonna complain about bonus birthday, but still. Sheepish? Llamaish? Something.

Right, gonna go curl back up with my knitting and Sims. Have a good one, y’all.


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