The young me, growing up in an apartment in New York City, ordered
Jackson and Perkins rose catalogs just to look at the pictures, and to
dream about growing roses.
My mother loved a talcum powder called Lilacs and Roses, and I've always associated these two flowers with my memories of her.
I have several lilac bushes. But no roses.
I gave up growing roses soon after moving from Northwest Arkansas to the Southern Tier of New York
The house we purchased a few months after moving here had a beautiful red climbing rose on the western side of the house. Our next door neighbor, now deceased, had lived in his house since right after World War II, and thought a previous owner had brought the rose plant from a previous residence, possibly in Texas. (This was over 30 years ago, so I don't quite remember)
I got tired of fighting the diseases and the Japanese Beetles. I hate ripping out plants, but we ripped this rose out.
Now, I let others grow roses and I just come by and admire them. Our free botanical gardens, Cutler Botanic Gardens, has a Rose Walk which I visit once or twice a year. I love to take pictures and share with my readers to brighten their days. We all need bright days in these grim times, do we not?
I visited Cutler on what would have been my mother's birthday, June 4.
My phone was acting up on me and so I couldn't capture all the names. But enjoy.
Belle de Crécy
Celsiana, which apparently dates from at least 1750.
Sir Thomas Lipton. (I know I've had this on my blog before).
York and Lancaster, a historic rose, dating from around 1551.
A multicolored rose I couldn't enter on my phone for some reason.
And a rose with a name that autocorrect mangled into something totally incomprehensible.
Perhaps my Mom was with me on these rose walks in spirit. I'd like to think so.
Do you grow roses?