For You, My Love

OK, I'll admit it.

I'm a sap.

Really -- truly -- I'm just a big baby in extra medium men's size clothing. I sometimes wonder why I am not like other men -- perhaps it was the way I was raised without a father -- I'm just not sure. I may look like a "big guy." But inside -- I'm just a softie.

I demonstrate this in so many ways -- from hanging bird feeders in the yard to entertain or tease the housecats to no end -- or think of new and imaginative ways to please the wife that is Venus.

One of the events that I look forward too every spring is the first rose of the year. Springtime roses are the best in my personal opinion. This is when buds are at a peak size and burst out in a glory of color. They also make for the best cutting roses -- if you can get to them before the spring rains spoil that short moment of beauty.

Such an event took place this past weekend. I knew we were in for a whale of a storm the coming week. Some of the rose bushes scattered about the backyard were just beginning to flower. So why not get a bud while the getting is good -- right?

I found this gorgeous white with green-tinges John F. Kennedy (JFK) rose in the deepest -- most remote -- part of the backyard. Why did I put it there? Well -- it was a transplant from the first home. It had not done all that well during its first six years -- and to be honest -- it wasn't one of my favorites. But -- since it was in a line of rose bushes that we were removing from the old home -- it had to go somewhere.

So -- I found an out of the way corner in a part of the backyard that nobody really visits -- dug a small hole and that's where the JFK went.

Imagine my surprise when it not only flowered the following spring -- but produced an overwhelming display of force that I had never seen out of this particular rose bush before. By all accounts -- it should not have done this well. I didn't amend the planter hole much -- the bush was right next to the house and a fence. It didn't get a whole lot of sun. It didn't get a whole lot of water either (just a single drip emitter).

Today? The JFK is a showpiece of the backyard. And it produced the first -- perfectly shaped rose -- of Spring 2010. The stem was perfect -- about 15-inches in length. No other roses were developing off this stem -- and the rose had just barely started to open. Perhaps two petals had unfurled at the point where I cut it and brought it inside.

The timing really could not have been better. The wife was showering. Her eyes were closed. After putting the JFK in a simple bud vase and filling it with water -- I placed it right next to a bathroom sink that the wife uses. When she finally emerged? I had already "left the building," and she was greeted with a single hybrid tea rose.

One week later and that rose has now unfurled completely and is still putting on a grand show in the dining room.

There will be other roses this season -- that much is sure. The center-piece of the backyard? The Floribunda called Scentimental? It's nearly as high as the fence now -- it's just loaded with buds -- but is still a week away from flowering. Other nearby bushes are also starting to show some color and a few buds have opened here and there.

But nothing is putting on quite the show like the old, reliable, JFK.

This is for you my dear Venus. Rest assured my dear wife -- this is just a start. I will continue to remind you of your dazzling beauty -- and my love for you -- all summer long.

Our Lady at Work

The Autumn months of October and November are proving to be a real show-stopper in our North Natomas Back 40 in terms of outright color production.

The rose bushes planted in "strategic" areas around the yard are just going nuts with colorful production. I've already highlighted two of them on this blog (Scentimental and Venus' favorite, Saint Patrick). Now it's time for another that simply tugged on the wife's heartstrings the moment she saw it pictured in a Jackson and Perkins catalog.

Gentle gardeners -- I give you -- Our Lady of Guadalupe.

If you're beginning to figure out that Venus is a certifiable Catholic -- that would be a mighty fine guess!

What's the difference between a normal Catholic and a "certifiable" Catholic?

Don't ask!

But -- back to the subject. I know from experience -- mind you -- that what looks great in a Jackson and Perkins or Weeks catalog doesn't necessarily transfer into the same success at home in the front or back yards. There's a lot of work that goes into making a rose bush look "picture perfect," and sometimes that rose just doesn't look like what was pictured.

Then -- there are cases of "dumb luck." Put Bill Bird in that category.

Venus and I purchased Our Lady of Guadalupe soon after moving into our first North Natomas home in 2003. The selling point? For Venus, obviously, it was the name. But she also liked the fact that Our Lady of Guadalupe had been "blessed by the Diocese of Los Angeles, and proceeds from the sale of the rose supported Hispanic College Fund scholarships."

So -- I wasn't one to argue. I purchased the rose. I gave it a prime spot in our first home against a fence. The rose got nice amounts of compost, fertlizer and water. And this rose responded to that wonderful and loving care by promptly FLOPPING during its first five years.

And Gentle gardeners -- I mean this one really just FLOPPED. How do you put it in gardening terms? Latin Terms? "Stinkus Alottus?"

What went wrong? I'm not sure. It just didn't grow all that well. It was one of the smallest Floribunda roses I'd ever seen -- never growing beyond a height of two or three feet. Oh sure, it would produce some nice roses. But it was hidden away -- blocked by other roses located in the front and the side -- other roses that performed -- well -- much better to be brutally honest.

When Venus and I made the move to our new North Natomas compound with a backyard actually large enough to turn around in -- the decision was made to bring some of the existing roses from the old yard over to the new yard. We had overplanted anyway at the old yard -- so why not?

But -- in my opinion -- the rose named "Our Lady of Guadalupe" didn't make the cut. "It's too small," I told Venus. "I'll buy you something else."

She promptly delivered the universally recognized, one-finger "Gardener's Salute" to inform me that I'd -- uh -- lost the argument.

It just goes to show that I should listen to my wife more often.

I'm not sure what I did right this time around -- nor what I did wrong last time. But I can tell you that Our Lady of Guadalupe immediately responded in a positive way to the new digs. It grew to a height of three feet during its first year after transplant. This year? It's slowly approaching the five foot mark. I've never witnessed such a lavish display out of this rose bush before.

Since rose bushes like this one normally take three years before putting on a really good show -- I can only imagine what will happen next year.

Our Lady of Guadalupe attracts a number of beneficial insects to the garden -- including bees -- although the bees in the nearby, neon-pink, "Hello Kitty" hive don't pay it much attention (no, they're not retarded, but I might be).