It's hard to pass by a rose

I used to have a running coach who would describe a certain type of run as "smell the roses". That wasn't really a problem then and it certainly isn't one now.

I stopped to admire these in all their battered spring glory. Still elegant and beautiful despite wind burned petals.

It's turned cold and grey outside. I'm picking it will on the improve come morning, and I'll be biking to work. I have emails to attend to, and a kitchen to clean up.

I'll visit Benedict after work tomorrow, so long as there isn't a cat crisis that his foster mother needs to attend to. There are little pottles of fish in the freezer, I'll get one out to take with me now :-)