Perhaps it’s the sun, or the heady sweet perfume of the garden rose blossoms, because immediately I am taken back to that same time period — when the women of my grandmother’s Blue Rose Society, dreamed an impossible dream — perfecting the first double blue rose.  As a young girl, sitting on the sidelines, while they held their weekly luncheon meetings, I was certain they’d lost their minds or at least were drinking something more than mint julep tea.