For the Love of Roses

My mother loved to sew, and my father loved to garden.  As a young girl, I can remember my dad, “the butcher,” coming home after a hard days’ work, relaxing by working out in his garden.  He loved to bring home, usually out of the dumpster where he worked at the super market; trees, bushes, plants of all kind, and “treasures” as he called them.

Now, “look here girl,” he would say.  We can bring these forsaken beauties right back to life with just a little love and care.  And, that, he would do! One of my favorite memories was when he brought home withered rose bushes.  There must have been five or maybe six hybird teas.  That is when he decided we should have a “rose garden.”  I don’t think all of the roses survived, but those that did, were stunningly beautiful.  This propelled my dad to add a little at a time more and more roses.  At times, he even paid full price for a lovely new variety.

And now you may wonder why I have such a love for roses.  Right after marriage at the tender age of 19, I began my gardening, even if our yard wasn’t very large. I would dig up a flower bed all by hand, and just as my dad taught me, little by little, I would build up the rose bed.  Now, many years later, I have all sorts of flowers, but especially, roses.  At present, I have about 30 rose bushes, including four climbers and two arbors for them to climb.

I must post a picture of the climbing “Lavender Crush” that I just recently purchased this spring.   I must say that this can be an expensive hobby, but just like my dad, I occasionally raid the clearance section.  Oh, for the love of roses!