For the Sake of the Rose Bushes
...because both pink and cream are in bloom and smell heavenly.
I sometimes forget, but that doesn't mean you have to. Always, always, take time to smell them.
6.20.2013
I sometimes forget, but that doesn't mean you have to. Always, always, take time to smell them.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments
(
Atom
)
7 comments :
Isn't it such a joy to come to a place with established roses? And an established cherry tree? And established perennials?
Whenever I look at old homesteads, I wonder if the people who planted them realized that they were bringing joy to future generations with their planting. Probably not- but whenever (if ever) I plant the orchard, that will be on my mind. I like to think my great-grandchildren will be perched in the trees I planted, plucking off free snacks and their mother gathering bouquets for the house just like I did.
(I never think about the fact that we will be wearing all white skin-tight leotards and ordering our dinners from a screen tube with our hair slicked back and cut short and living in a time when all green things have burned up and died in the lack of ozone radiation burn.)
those cream ones are heavenly.
I found a wild domestic rose today. I think I'd found it last year too, but forgot about it. It got me thinking about what I like about roses. These photos sum up pretty well what I like about them, too.
Your roses are lovely. I miss the roses I planted at our house in Colorado City. As much as I love our new ranch property, I can't plant roses until we have a well. I really can't be hauling water for roses to drink when it's already so much trouble to haul it for people and animals. Besides, when you have unfenced goats roaming your property, there's no hope of getting anything tasty-looking or yummy-smelling to grow. Someday if we get a well, then I will fence the goats out of our immediate back yard so I can plant whatever I want and not have it eaten the very next day!
R.,
YOU may be wearing white, skin-tight leotards. I'LL be wearing bright green, skin-tight leotards.
And you're right about the future generations enjoying these fruits. I've whispered thanks to my great-grandparents many times as I pick roses and fruit.
H.,
Do you know how to propagate rose bushes? I've never done it, but this year I want to transplant some baby shoots so I can have even more, greedy rose hog that I am. The old-fashioned roses may not be as showy as the newer breeds, but their scent is superior to all else (except lilacs and warm bread and chocolate chip cookies and lots of other things).
Nanno,
I'm a dummy! I didn't realize you didn't have a well, though I'm sure you've told me. We had one summer of lugging water, and I doubt rose bushes would be anywhere near my sights if I had to sustain them with buckets of water. I would gladly share some rain if I could! I often take our free-falling stuff for granted until those of you who long for it smack me upside the head.
Sadly, no.
I bet good ol' Uncle Google can tell us!!!
I know you can take cuttings, but I've never done it before and therefore am insecure. I wish Unkie G. would just come and do the work for me, too!
Post a Comment