Sweet William ...

... and sweet memories of my father who loved this flower.

I never got to know my father very well as an adult, I fled the nest at 16 and rarely returned so most of my memories emanate from childhood and are, I think, all the sweeter for that. He was profoundly deaf and, before he was fitted with a hearing aid, communication was difficult. He used to draw pictures for me and taught me to draw a picture in return ... a pigeon, a horse, a cowboy, a car. And he stood between me and other things ...

Yorkie, this one's for you.