“I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden” . . . surely some of you remember that stanza from a popular country and western song in years past. And, then maybe not, but it does reveal a little about this blog.
I love roses, the deeper the red the better; the brighter the yellow, the pinker the pink and the pureness of a stark white rose are some of the reasons I love them. Emerald green, grass green leaves and forest green leaves; some oval shaped, some shaped like tear drops and some non-descript add the perfect background to the most beautiful flower in the world.
I do not claim to be an expert on growing roses, and I could not name a rose if my life depended on it, unless it had one of those tags that come with most rose bushes. That does not mean I don’t know how to nuture them and coax them into brilliance. So, I shall share with you my rose garden; small, but filled with delightful fragrances. I will water them gently, whisper good morning and good evening to them, keep watch over them as a Mother hen does her baby chicks, and wish them into a bounty of blooms to last throughout the summer.
I’ll not bore you with any more verbage. I’ll just provide the beginning of my beauty pageant and take you through their growing stages — so, if you wll bear with me, this is the first of many blogs I will write about MY roses.
“Whats in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet” . . . Shakespeare