The Claire Rose. My Grandmother always grew one of these in my honour, and tried to give me cuttings which never took. Now, with her gone I have one, which even though we do not share a name, reminds me of her and my Grandfather. For the last few years it has not taken, and it has seemed as though it is planted in the wrong spot. This year, the second summer since she died, it is in full glory and it is really a beauty. It is beginning to climb, and its white blooms are set off beautifully by the Garrya elliptica next door.