More roses . . .
I think that I may have given the mistaken impression in my last post that I do not like roses. In fact I love roses - I just have a problem with a flower which is in essence fleeting - the pinnacle of the June garden - become a year round commodity. In my comment I compared it to a strawberry - people eat strawberries in December because they can - but they are getting a far lesser fruit and in some ways spoiling the June feast by making strawberries commonplace.
Anyway to prove that I do in fact love and plant roses in my own garden . . . This is a multi header climber trained along the front fence.
A rambler headed up into hawthorn trees along our boundary - I feel that this may turn out to be a mistake in a few years time but at the moment it is glorious with great wands of flowers blowing in the breeze.
and my favourite rose in the garden - William Lobb - a triumph of hope against experience as he gets besmirched so easily in the rain.
Still on a rose theme - I was in town yesterday and picked up a copy of Martha Stewart Weddings (and it is interesting that US wedding magazines don't have the rose obsession of the Brits). In it was this.
And I shall quote the caption "These pink Sally Holmes roses lasted only 2 hours after they were wired. But for one bride, this was a once in a lifetime chance to carry them and her florist made her bouquet just minutes before the ceremony. The results were worth it."
That sounds like extreme floristry to me.