memories

April in Sacramento heralds the end of a cold, rainy winter. I clear away weeds, mow the lawn, and get ready for hot,sweaty summer days. In April, I also get to enjoy the first rosebuds of the season – which makes me happy every year, because I love roses and also because these roses mean something special. I transplanted them from my father’s garden. At one point, my father had over a hundred hybrid tea roses in a garden that stretched the entire length of his house and wrapped around into the yards on either side. He spent every weekend