My husband has infinitely more confidence in my ability as a gardener than I have in myself. He challenges me in areas I would never endeavor on my own. The rose garden would be one of those gauntlets that he threw down to push my gardening skills.
It all started about 4 years ago I when I began building a retaining wall between the front of our cabin and the road, to aid with drainage. I love building things with rocks. It is nothing for my husband to look out the window and see me wandering down our road with a wheelbarrow laden with giant stones. I never ask for help, it is the challenge that draws me. Funny thing is I could spend all day moving a stone twice my size, but I stomp like a spoiled child at the very thought of digging a post hole.
|My rose garden.|
Anyway, back to the story. I was working on this retaining wall because water from the road was draining into our yard. I managed to sweet talk my husband into driving his skid steer along the rocky road leading to our house. We picked up small boulders that appeared after we had some work done on the road. I was in heaven. Soon we had a nice wall up.
|Kelly's "blueprint" for the perfect rose garden. |
That is me in the sweater.
My reservations quickly disappeared when we went to Jolly Lane (my absolute favorite nursery) to buy the roses. Suddenly I found myself in a world of brilliant colors, dark green leaves, and scents that were intoxicating. Four roses later I was hooked for life.
Perennials have dash, but roses have personality. I have the Yellow Topaz. She (I will not tell you what I really call her and it isn’t Yellow Topaz) is merciless if you dare come within her reach. Her thorns instill fear. My husband’s prize is Morden Sunrise Shrub. Of course I can’t get it to grow. The little bugger has been 4 inches tall since I got her 4 years ago. He has high hopes, while I hope she just makes it through another winter.
My mom gave me a Harison’s Yellow that belonged to my Great Aunt Clara. For Mother’s Day I gave her a Theresa Bugnet that I have found to be virtually Bonnie proof. My William Baffin is the first to meet me in the spring. The Westerland we picked out has a scent that is out of this world, closely followed by Vavoom. The Champlain never lets me down. I used to have one in Lead and our dog, Ezra, was infatuated with it. He ate the flowers and would pull it up whenever I wasn’t looking. It was years before he succeeded in killing that one.
|The infamous Yellow Topaz|