Spring is definitely in the air. The sun is shining, the grass is growing and the garden is sprouting. Everything that looked so bare suddenly has new life.
Seven years ago I left a large garden on the farm with 120 roses, swearing I would never go back to roses. They are a lot of work. I often had to have a dose of penicillin at pruning time, with thorns lodged in my fingers that I had missed. I was going to have an easy-care, structured garden and nothing to tidy up outside the boundary fences.
We are in town now with an easy-care garden, but I’ve been surreptitiously been putting in a few of my favourite roses. There is always a gap just big enough for a rose.
I decided the other day I really missed ‘Sally Holmes’. Yes, there just so happened to be a bit of bare fence that needed a climber. It will hopefully meet in the middle with ‘Mutablis’ which has been started at the other end of the fence.
Roses are so good to pick. To have a bowl of roses in our home just makes me feel good. Then the dead-heading and watering in the early morning or evenings is very therapeutic. Maybe once a love affair with roses begins it doesn’t really go out of our system. My mother loves roses and started me off with a few of her favourites.
I love to pick roses to give away. They give someone a lift. They make us smile. They add vibrant colours in the garden. The fragrance of some roses is heavenly.
I finally found ‘The Lady’ (pictured in the esplanade gardens in Palmerston North) and now she will be lovingly grown in a pot in my courtyard. Yes I do talk to the roses. I find they grow better!