Some things change with age. I remember when I first moved back to NZ thinking how quaint were the beds of dalhias in the streets of Rotorua. I distinctly remember telling Uncle Dennis that if I were caught growing them it would be a signal that I should be put out to pasture.
Margaret and I went to the Dalhia Show in Hamilton a couple of weekends ago and I found I was quite besotted. And guess what grows along my front fence at the new house? Lah di dah, they are quite lovely thank you.
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