My mother, who taught me that any hardship is easier when you are surrounded by the colors and music of the garden.
My husband, Gerry, who turns any project into an opportunity to buy a new tool- installs and keeps the structures and hardscaping far safer than I could on my own.
Our sons, Trevor and Kenny, who provided years of muscle, humor and dogs.
Our neighbor, Dennis, who prevented Diamond Bar from flooding when I forgot to turn- off the water up here. He keeps me in red apple clippings and with his daughters, treats us to home baked goods in exchange for occasional citrus.
Our neighbors, Chuck and Sandy, who tease and encourage this obsession. When Chuck arranged to load a couple tree roses for me from Otto and Sons in Somis: for that he is member emeritus of the Good Neighbor Hall of Fame.
My friend, Glenda, whose exuberance to use gatherings from the garden at home and in the kitchen- inspires.
My friend Edda, head of our private chapter of Republicans and Roses.
This list, like life and the garden, is not complete. But gratitude should not be rushed. It should be savored.