For some reason I have always loved the runts of the litter. As a child my parents got me a puppy. As soon as the owner said that one puppy was rejected by the mother that was the one I unequivocally picked. It’s like that with flowers as well. This spectacularly blue dwarf iris came from a church garage sale down the street. It was sitting in a small pot with maybe one or two leaves on it. Nobody wanted to buy it. Ten years later it lights up my garden with the most unusual colour of blue-purple in the spring. It never has a chance to spread as friends always want it. I keep digging out whatever patches grow.