Finishing a project for the inevitable, my 86 year old Mother was moved to a nursing home on Dec 26 with severe dementia . Started turning this yesterday morning, and the power went out, went out for almost 40 minutes. It sent a shiver through me. Then when I was final sanding today, I saw this grain pattern in the urn. My Grandfather, an Irishman with the surname of Lynch, always called Mom, his "Wild Irish Rose" after the song. You know, "The dearest flower that grows...." Maybe some would consider this a stretch, but there is no denying it in my mind. That's an Irish Rose in the wood grain. It still needs at least two more coats of finish, but I've been really moved by this and the experience.