Semi-Daily Scribbles

A raggedy clump of dog-roses were piled on the kitchen table in need of a healthy clip and trim. The thorny climbers grew tall and hardy amongst the hedgerows in the quiet, misty corner of the world Regina Canton called home. The five baby-toe-pink petals of the Rosa Canina delighted Regina, giving her the impression the rest of the infant was tucked away somewhere in the blue-green foliage. The flowers' barely-there sweetness often wafted through the house, even in the dead of winter, which made Regina miss her favorite rose even more. This particular day, however, was very special indeed. Regina didn't have many people come all the way to the end of the lane where her cottage abutted a great, dark forest, but a young lady would be coming around at 4:00 to discuss a situation for which Regina needed to fill. The last person who held the position turned out unable to keep confidences. Discretion was of the utmost importance to Regina Canton. She laid out her best lace linens and got out the good tea service. She planned a nice tisane that required the clump waiting on the table. Regina washed, then separated, the velvety petals from the rest of the rose, and hoped for the desired effect to set in quickly once the ladies had taken their tea.