We watched a movie last night "Amazing Grace." Very good movie. There was a scene in the movie where the lead character was lying on the ground with rose bushes surrounding him. The roses were past their prime and the bushes were full of rose hips. It brought to my mind and memory of the first time I collected rose hips. I was doing lots of crafting in those days and was doing everything under the sun to bring in some income. I spied rose hips in a field, as we were driving. The hips were all along the road too. I decided to go back with our truck and cut some of these for wreaths and arrangements if I could get permission from the farmer. I put on a flannel shirt, jeans, and gloves...knowing what a job it would be. What a prickly.. sticky job that was. I cut so many of them. They stuck me, clung to me, grabbed me, scratched me and just seemed to have a mind of their own. The flannel shirt wasn't the thing to wear. The hips loved clinging to that shirt. The truck was pretty much filled with hips and grapevines a few hours later. I couldn't wait to get home and start working with them. I hadn't seen any crafts using these treasures. They made up into some of the most beautiful wreaths. The remainder were just fashioned into "bouquets" with red and natural raffia bows. I put a huge basket of them in each store and they sold like hotcakes. I am one who can't work with gloves on and my poor hands were a mess with all the scratches. Well, wouldn't you know it...we were invited to a fancy dinner the next night. I really wanted to wear my new red dress. The dress, however, would be in competition with my hands. I didn't wear it....needless to say. What was I going to do about my hands? They hurt like the dickens too. No amount of lotion could hide the scratches or make them feel better. The more I rubbed the lotion in, the more red they got. I finally just gave up and I went to the dinner...wincing as we shook hands. My hands were as red as the hips themselves. I never did work with rose hips again. I still love them...especially when they are peeking out of the fresh white snow. Every time I see them I think about the year that I gathered a truck full.