The Last Pruning

As an unusually warm February day invited me to take off my jacket to embrace the glow of the sun, I found myself inspecting my wintered roses. Despite being in the hardiness zone 6b and it still being technically winter, my roses were bursting with eye buds as well as signs of eager growth. Generally speaking, it is best to wait till the forsythia begin blooming before doing any pruning – at least for this area. You never know in this wacky Pennsylvania weather when a large snow storm could strike. Last year, I had blooms and black spot in January, then over 20″ of snow dropped on just one February day.

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Spring 2016

Nevertheless, this particular warm February day, my heart warred as it wrestled with joyful signs of Spring, but also feelings of remorse. After having our home on the market a few months, we received an offer and settle in April. Although there will be much I miss about our home of 10 years, my rose garden will be sorely missed. We hope to do some traveling while settling somewhere in the South – most likely the Myrtle Beach area, which is hardiness zone 8a/b – a whole 2 zones warmer (that much I am looking forward to)! Alas, if we move there, we would purchase a condo with a balcony. Because if I have to give up my rose garden, I require at least a balcony. It wouldn’t surprise me if rose bushes mysteriously pop up around the condominium community too! ๐Ÿ˜‰

While perusing my eager rose babies, I decided to clean up the garden and do some pruning. After all, they still are mine and I long to see a stunning Spring flush one last time before we have to say our goodbyes. Oh, how I hope the young lady who purchased this safe haven, this small glimpse of heaven, will come to cherish it as I have. I can’t even comprehend anyone ripping out rose bushes to settle for ordinary grass. Yet, I realize not everyone is “obsessed with roses” as my friends and family notate about me.

Upon completing my work in the garden, I dusted off the dirt that gathered around my lower limbs, discussed with my husband my accomplishments, and then cried.

 

 

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Piercing Prickles

A few weeks ago when the first bouts of warm weather foreshadowed Spring, I joyfully toiled in my rose garden as I yanked up weeds, collected miscellaneous trash that navigated its way to my urban oasis, and pruned away damaged, diseased, or dead canes. Upon doing so, I had to practice a bit of gymnastics or perhaps yoga to conform my body into some unwelcomed areas within and around my rose bushes. Unfortunately, I made the foolish decision to wear nothing but sandals while my legs and ankles were only mere inches from piercing pain.

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“Fourth of July” is an enormous climber with canes reaching around 14 feet. She boasts a plethora of prickles in various shapes and sizes. Ouch!

And although I was surprisingly more limber than anticipated, my cell phone’s startling ringtone combined with a charlie horse in my foot stole my much needed concentration! Consequently, my ankle rammed into the thorns, or more accurately stated the prickles, I so gingerly tried to avoid. While accepting that prickly moment, my head flew back crying out in pain only to be greeted by a crown of thorns. So there I was in pain looking like the scary Carrie from that old horror film, hobbling to my persistent cell phone, which turned out to be just my husband wanting to see how my day’s been. It took an act of grace to not lash out upon feeling the full ramifications of such a precarious matter.

After running out to purchase mid-calf garden boots, I pondered on how painful it must have been for Jesus to wear His crown of thorns the Romans crushed into His skull full of wisdom and decided grace. Interestingly enough, the bush with the unimaginable prickles that pierced my flesh is called Fourth of July. Surely it’s no coincidence the extraordinarily thorny rose bush named in honor of our freedom reminded me of The One who longed to pierce our hearts when He willingly made a way for our eternal freedom.

The Irony

Eden Rose

Eden {photo credit: unknown}

Upon waking up this morning, my heart nearly stopped when looking at my phone to see snow in this weekend’s forecast. The irony of snow falling on the first day of the much anticipated warmth of Spring. Ordinarily, such a surprise winter attack would not be cause of panic, but when one considers I just planted the newly arrived and leafed out Eden rose a few days prior, my heart sank. Not to mention, freezing temperatures were not in the forecast. Even the forsythia are blooming as well as Japanese Magnolia trees (also known as Tulip Trees) and Eastern Red Bud Trees. With such promising signs the welcomed warmth of Spring was seemingly here to stay, I proceeded in clearing my rose beds and pruning my beloved rose babies just last week.

Naturally, prior to even completing a full cup of coffee, I was on the phone with my local nursery getting critical feedback on how to protect my newest addition, Eden. Upon receiving such advice, I also called Heirloom Roses, where I ordered Eden from, to get a second opinion. Both retailers suggested I apply mulch around the base of the plant then cover the hopeful bush with a 5 gallon bucket and blanket of sorts using a brick to secure it. Fair enough.

While driving to the nursery to purchase mulch for our emergency rose rescue operation, my husband gently, but adamantly declared we will most ardently not be purchasing any more roses in this trip or ever as our yard is small yet full of roses (plus I do believe he is tired of breaking ground). I calmly assured him not to worry. After all, unbeknownst to him, I already inquired on the local nursery’s rose inventory and was informed all they had right now was a few bare roots and left over Knock Outs. Naturally, I had every intention of still browsing their selection as well as all the other garden candy they had to offer. Ironically and much to my surprise, upon walking up to the few bare roots they had on display, my adamant “no more roses” husband immediately fell in love with Angel Face, a lavender purple color rose and promptly suggested we get it (we can plant the bare root rose once this cold snap passes).

Angel Face

Angel Face (photo credit: Pinterest)

Consequently, I about fell over… Then again, I did pull him close and hugged him before entering “the danger zone” of the nursery (aka where they keep the roses). Ha! Although I did not knowingly intend to manipulate, I discovered bodily contact within the nursery limits was certainly a good way to get more roses should he ever attempt to intervene in my apparent rose addiction again.

With all that said, I’m hoping, of course, the up and coming snow fall turns out to be a bust, but am thankful regardless for it provided me an unexpected rose and a productive day of weeding and mulching! The irony!

(Update: Thankfully, the weather experts were wrong. It didn’t snow nor even rained. But Jesus cares about roses and still answers prayers!) ๐Ÿ˜„

Envisioning an Ever-Blooming Garden

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{photo credit: unknown}

With the unlimited skies looking like grey mounds of cotton candy earlier today, I stood in my sweats on my urban patch of limited land envisioning an ever-blooming garden due to evolve this Spring and Summer. It appears even on gloomier days, I long to be in my garden! I suppose I miss the enchantment my garden provides me with especially after spending most of my days earlier this week soaking up the generous rays of light our area’s been afforded recently.

Little by little this week as the warm weather beckoned, I eagerly found myself picking up garbage attracted to my yard located in the heart of this city, yanking a few new weeds, and ripping out dried up vines that encompassed the pillars of my six foot black powered aluminum fence. Despite my own advice of waiting on the “forsythia factor” before pruning, I went ahead and started the process. After all, the chances of finding forsythia in this concrete jungle are slim to none. Ha! (Update: Since posting this blog, I’ve seen forsythia all over this city at properties on the outskirts of the city limits and at the local minor league baseball stadium in downtown). I figured it was safe to at least begin the process of pruning considering the fact that I must tackle my small yard in segments due to my back but more importantly, the leaf buds are already birthing their deep red leaflets, bright green grass has miraculously appeared along with a few prideful weeds, and the forecast predicts temperatures to remain above freezing the next few weeks. My drive to proceed could also be due to lack of patience and self-control: fruits God is still tending to within His daughter. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Regardless of the melancholy weather today and my abundant eagerness to bring on Spring, there I stood mentally picturing where I would soon be planting the purchases I secretly made online while my husband napped. Although he too enjoys gardening, he prefers we plant things we can actually eat. I try to tell him all about the many uses of roses, but rose tea, rose oil, and rose potpurri do not appeal to him as much for some reason. He has tried eating a rose hip after I explained to him the immense health benefits in doing so. Still, he’d rather swallow a pill.

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The blooms of the Eden climbing rose are so large and heavy, they often dangle. {photo credit: unknown}ย 

So while he is napping after working hard all week, I either am planning out my rose garden, writing about it, or in my yard making my urban rose garden dreams a reality. For now, as I stood in my garden tiny in size, but bountiful in joy and hope, I meditate on where my husband will be digging a space for my much longed for Eden rose due to arrive in a few days. And while visions of 4.5 inches of white and pink blooms dazzled my mind, my eyes mentally planted the 4 lavender hidcotes due to arrive in mid-April. Hey, American Meadows had a great sale on lavenderย that I just couldn’t pass up! It was like lavender was in the $5 bin at Walmart (something else I am a sucker for). If we run out of Earth, which no doubt will be soon and very soon, I will happily move on to creating a colorful container garden.

While standing there for several minutes perusing the 14 rose bushes I’ve adopted, I considered the importance of air flow and color scheme. And yet, I still squeeze in other herbs, clematis, and miniature roses among others on my wishlist. What is this garden gal to do?! On one hand, my back is grateful for petite pieces of real estate such as mine, but on the other hand, I contemplate digging up my earlier boring rose choices so I could replace them with others I’ve since discovered. But like children, how hard it is to part with any rose.

For now, my eager soul rests peacefully while dreaming of her up and coming ever-blooming garden.

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