Strolling past old-world gardens in Nanaimo, B.C., I stopped to chat with an elderly man tending his rosebushes. "I won first prize in our garden-club competition last year," he told me. Without rancor, he added, " I can't enter this year because I'm president. But I will again next year." I congratulated him, and said I was sure he'd win again with such beautiful roses. "How many members do you compete against?" I asked. "Just me friend next door. We take turns being president."

-Jean Hobson