While we lived in Quebec, Gate would bring me the seeds of roses he had found in his travels. I planted them in my coldframe and waited. . . . and waited. . . . then waited some more. After a couple of rounds of the seasons some of the seeds sprouted. Since I never had any idea of the parentage of any of the seeds it was a complete mystery as to what I would get from them. I potted up the seedlings and waited. . . . and waited. . . . then waited some more. Then we moved and I carried the potted roses with me to Manitoba and set the pots in the ground and waited. And this afternoon I was puttering in the garden and Lo! A tiny rose bush, just a few inches tall, had produced a couple of flowers. You can see how small the whole thing is compared to a 500 ml water bottle. If I do say so myself, I'm quite proud and a bit puffed up about it.
