Rescued rose

Amid the chaotic tangle of long grass and weeds, the rose P rescued last year from a gloomy corner where it had somehow stayed alive beneath overgrown shrubs, now keeps on producing delicately perfect, creamy white blooms. Each newly opening bud gives me pleasure; I go to look at them each time I hang laundry outside.

It was a busy day, with a somewhat stressful appointment and lots to do preparing for the plumber and electrician's early arrival tomorrow morning, but all went well enough, apart from the plan for an early night, which failed as it always does.