I trimmed my climbing rose yesterday. It's a Don Juan, aptly named for it's sweet fragrance that's unforgettable. Okay, so sentimental fool that I am, it's also the first rose hubby ever picked for me when I was a mere sweet 16. I actually still have the original, pressed between the pages of a book.
I remember two things about that rose: it had the most wonderful aroma...and 17 year old someday future hubby got yelled at...because he'd snitched the first bloom from his Dad's beloved roses. Without permission. His Dad softened up a bit when he found out it was for me. After that it became a family joke. Once Dad was the one who picked the Don Juan and gifted it to me.
There were a few buds still left and they looked too forlorn lying in the pile of clippings. Yes, the sentimental scooped them up and brought them inside. I chose one to keep me company at the computer. Now I have a pair of Don Juans watching over me...both were given to me by hubby.
And yes, those are hearts on his shorts. :)