Most Thursday Mornings I go to a pottery group at the Boilerhouse in Sunbury. The Boilerhouse is a community arts centre but it is called the boilerhouse because it was the boilerhouse and laundry for the old asylum. The boilerhouse is one building among many that sit at the top of Jackson's Hill in sunbury. The Asylum wasn't closed that long ago. After it was closed many of the residents were housed in sunbury in group homes, and sometimes old residents would come back to the grounds to remember the past.
One day as we were sitting in the ceramics room in the boilerhouse deep in a many pronged conversation as the pottery ladies always are, in came Ronnie. Ronnie used to live at the asylum and he had us bailed up for a while with his conversation about the past. To move Ronnie on to his next adventure I suggested to Ronnie that he show me around the grounds. So he did and he showed me a rose bush and told me that it had been there as long as he could remember. He broke off a branch of the bush and told me to go home and plant it. I said I would and wandered back to the pottery ladies.
After pottery I took the rose home and planted it in the garden just as Ronnie had told me to.
It grew and stands tall between a lilac budlea and a neighbours be gone. We haven't seen Ronnie for years.
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