a tiny rose

My ankle is still just a little swollen...so I don't want to try to walk on it. Tomorrow is test day. A walk downtown to see how it feels, and how it responds. Maybe I'll talk to it in the morning. A little pep talk never hurt anything.

Besides my ankle...my tummy hurts. My nurse wife Lisa can't tell me what's wrong. Maybe it was that bacon squealer donut I had yesterday. Bacon on a donut. What was I thinking? I layed in bed and watched the PGA championship for hours. I finally forced myself to grab a camera, and at least go out to the back yard.

I shot a nice big green pepper, an orange "flower" on a squash plant, a regular pink rose, and this itsy bitsy teeny weeny rose.

Do they make these things for gnomes to give to their sweethearts? Do chipmunks come up and pose by them? Do the full size roses laugh at them? Do they get tired of the word "cute"? Do aphids snicker at them?

So many questions. In a country where it seems like bigger is always considered better...the flower is a tiny package of prettiness, but I bet the little thorns can still bring out the blood.