Commentary by Christy Solo
While writing last week’s All Things Oregon I was reminded that I had a very rosy childhood.
In the literal sense, that is – not necessarily in the metaphorical sense.
This is because my parents really loved roses. Like really. Like a lot.
They planted a 1/8 acre rose garden in the front yard of our first house. That particular garden (they would have roses at all their subsequent homes) was…
