On Monday June 1, 1953 a 29-year-old New Zealand man in London was cutting flowers in a school for girls in London.

On Tuesday, June 2, an 11-year-old (me) around noon was called to lunch, “Alex please wash your hands and knees (I wore short pants).” I remember how I answered, “Not yet, I am listening to my queen’s coronation.”

The New Zealand man, Alleyne Cook, was a gardener in Costance Spry’s school where girls were taught manners and how to cook. He was told by Spry to cut flowers that would be floral arrangements in Westminster Abbey and along the cavalcade to the coronation.

Rosa 'Constance Spry' 1 June 2020

I have written about Cook and his wife Barbara in blogs listed below.

 The Kaponga Man

 Not quite true blue

Glykysides

 Plants and their faces

A Blue Ghost 

Alleyne & Barbara Cook

Yesterday I went to Barbara Cook’s home because she told me that Rosa ‘Constance Spry’ was in bloom. I told her to let me know as soon as she was in bloom. I had the intention of writing a happy blog in memory of her husband.

Alleyne & Barbara Cook - 2018 - iPhone3G

But this was not to be. I found that when I arrived that a most pleasant Barbara (she is over 90)ready to ring a couple of bells at 7pm at passing cars (they all honked) I became melancholy and disturbed at somehow being in a garden whose former owner was no longer there. It felt like going up to a ship’s bridge without asking the permission of the ship’s captain.

The garden has fewer plants as many rare specimens were donated by the Cooks to botanical gardens. But I must report that the first David Austin English Rose (1968) was mostly free of any disease. This rose is disease prone in our wet spring climates. Rosa ‘Ispahan’ also caught my eye. Cook told me that the rose might have been brought from Iran to the West by returning crusaders. The rose is fragrant and that while it only blooms once it does for a long stretch of time.

With cut roses of Ispahan and Constance Spry wrapped by Barbara wrapped in wet newspaper, I drove home in extreme melancholy. I could remember Cook’s “Eveready” smile and his wonderful New Zealand accent. His absence in that garden was salient. This is what came to mind as I drove, “Life is a distraction for death.”

When I arrived home I immediately went to the scanning. It was only after I placed Constance Spry in a vase that I finally broke down to experiencing that extraordinary (most un rose-like) scent that the English define as myrrh. I can begin to describe it as a scent that has moments of hand soap, magnolia flowers, lemon and a tad of Pernod.

Rosa 'Ispahan' 1 June 2020

To get this rose David Austin crossed Rosa ‘Dainty Maid’ with the 19^th century Rosa ‘Belle Isis’. The latter had that scent of myrrh which in its past must have included Rosa “Ayershire Splendens’ a rose that grew and grows in northern England and is the only rose in the wild with the myrrh scent.

I went to bed thinking I would have to write two blogs. One would be a sad one and another a happy one.

Today I called Barbara Cook to thank her and I told her of my conundrum. What she did was to thank me for understanding why going through the garden would indeed have been a sad one. And so here is, one blog.

This past Friday and Saturday we opened our garden for the Vancouver Rose Society. I thought I had told the concerned authorities that I wanted the opening to be Saturday and Sunday but I gave them the Friday and Saturday calendar dates. This was a good thing.

Because we have always had our open gardens on weekends, today Sunday feels like Monday. So it seems we have gained a day out of the blue.

Because the open garden is over I dared cut this Iris pallida ‘Variegata’ to scan.

I have previously written about the connection between the iris and my Argentine Aunt Iris (she who made the best devilled ham) here.

Rosemary, my plant snob wife, does not like bearded iris. The fact that this one is bearded does not trouble her all that much as the variegation makes it less of an “ordinary” plant.

Social media is full of people getting really close to plants and flowers with their macro lenses. I believe that this method does not work for me. I want to see the plant in all its complete glory. A further example is the idea of taking photographs of trees that somehow crop their tops. It does not do justice to them (my opinion). This is why the last picture of the iris here is my way of showing the futility of such photography.

Some people can follow the instructions to make a pot of loose tea, or to fix a dozen Mexican corn tortillas. But many will fail. There is some magic involved.

Our former Mexican housekeeper in Burnaby in the late 70s (we brought her so that our daughters would not lose their Spanish) Clemencia made the best Earl Grey Tea. One day I spotted her re-boiling some of it and I was shocked! I never did notice the difference. She had the touch.

It is the same with roses. Some of us can grow this rose or that one. I could never grow the multi-petalled Bourbon Roses because the blooms would never open in Vancouver’s rainy weather.

Rosarian of note, Darlene Sanders told me she had a fine specimen of Rosa ‘Souvenir de la Malmaison’. I told her this could not be true (I almost called her a fibber!). So some years ago I visited her West Vancouver garden and her Souvenir de la Malmaison was glorious.

Now, yesterday Saturday, Sanders visited our garden. She brought me a little gift. You can guess exactly what the gift was. Today Sunday I scanned it.

This blog is filling a an empty hole on another day, the day before yesterday. But the date of the scan is 31 May 2020.

Perhaps someday soon Sanders might invite us for tea. I am sure that it would be excellent. But in making Mexican corn tortillas I believe she would be as good at it as I am in growing Bourbon Roses.