The life (and near death) of plants

I don't know why I'm so surprised that this rose, which Dom gave me in May (I think), continues to blossom. 

It's probably because my history of nurturing plants is not great; I feel a pang of sympathy for any plant that comes into my care. Maybe this is why I like cut flowers: I can enjoy them knowing that, when the time comes to throw them in the bin, their demise was not my fault. 

Mind you, this fellow did nearly suffer an early finish, enduring a slow decline in its health, sat on the hall table. It was rescued by the Minx who suggested we should move it into the kitchen window where it is still thriving.

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Reading: 'The Quantum Astrologer's Handbook' by Michael Brooks