Vincas: How smitten am I? You come in a variety of bright colors, you bloom through the heat and you never complain. Why have I hardened my heart against you for so long?
Coleus: you rock! Invite your friends to join you next year, will you?
Alyssum (in the shade of the courtyard): you were supposed to get full and trail along the stone edging to soften it, not stick your bony arms up towards the light. Get a clue!
And your neighbor Lobelia: Fuggediboutit! You gave up the ghost, every one. What was it? Too much sun in the late afternoon? Too much shade the rest of the time? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to hear it!
New Dawn climbing rose: I had high hopes for you. You have grown quite a bit, truth be told, but I was expecting roses on my rose bush sometime this summer, not an unreasonable expectation, wouldn’t you agree? You have six to eight months to give me what I want or you’re outta here!
First Prize rose bush: What can I say? The guilt is more than I can deal with. If only I had noticed the crack in your pot sooner, you might still be blooming with us. You were always the first, the last and the most abundant bloomer of all my roses . . . it will be hard getting used to the fact that after eight years, you are gone. To think of replacing you with another at this time is a thought simply past bearing.
Hollyhocks: I notice that you have these wonderful little seed pods adorning your stalk. Go forth and multiply!
Crape myrtle: What can I say? This is the first time since I brought you home from the nursery that you have bloomed for me. What has it been, six, seven years? I thought we might lose you two years ago when The Spouse forgot to water you that week I was out of town. That would have been sad but now you have shown me how you can rock and roll, I am happier than ever that you are still with us.
Alyssum (in the shade of the courtyard): you were supposed to get full and trail along the stone edging to soften it, not stick your bony arms up towards the light. Get a clue!
And your neighbor Lobelia: Fuggediboutit! You gave up the ghost, every one. What was it? Too much sun in the late afternoon? Too much shade the rest of the time? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to hear it!
New Dawn climbing rose: I had high hopes for you. You have grown quite a bit, truth be told, but I was expecting roses on my rose bush sometime this summer, not an unreasonable expectation, wouldn’t you agree? You have six to eight months to give me what I want or you’re outta here!
First Prize rose bush: What can I say? The guilt is more than I can deal with. If only I had noticed the crack in your pot sooner, you might still be blooming with us. You were always the first, the last and the most abundant bloomer of all my roses . . . it will be hard getting used to the fact that after eight years, you are gone. To think of replacing you with another at this time is a thought simply past bearing.
Hollyhocks: I notice that you have these wonderful little seed pods adorning your stalk. Go forth and multiply!
Crape myrtle: What can I say? This is the first time since I brought you home from the nursery that you have bloomed for me. What has it been, six, seven years? I thought we might lose you two years ago when The Spouse forgot to water you that week I was out of town. That would have been sad but now you have shown me how you can rock and roll, I am happier than ever that you are still with us.
Potato vine: Last year you didn’t bloom until August. This year, you have been blooming steadily since spring. Was it something I said? Whatever it was, I hope I say it again. Love you, baby.
Pale Pink Hydrangea: for a whole year you languished in your pot. Then I planted you in the ground. Can you say Party Time? Wow, I’m glad I decided to give you another chance. I look forward to even better things from you in the spring.
Pale Pink Hydrangea: for a whole year you languished in your pot. Then I planted you in the ground. Can you say Party Time? Wow, I’m glad I decided to give you another chance. I look forward to even better things from you in the spring.
Red Rose whose name I have forgotten: Can you ever forgive me? For years I ignored your need of enough soil to cover your odd-ball root-ball that was sticking up at a funny angle out of the dirt. I think I secretly hoped you would just give it up but you didn’t. You hung in there. Now, a few months after I caved and added dirt to your pot, you are blushing like a young maiden. Way to be!
Abraham Darby rose bush: I think I might have spoiled you. Every place I have lived has been graced with one of your kind. True, I kept you captive in a pot for five years, but it didn’t kill your friend First Prize (at least, not until the end . . .) The part that hurts the most is that I planted you in the ground, gave your roots a place to stretch out and be free. I should have had many, many roses to admire these past few months but things aren’t looking so hot in your corner of the yard. In fact, things are looking a bit too hot, what with all your leaves turned brown and falling off. Oh, don’t tell me! You weren’t hanging out too much with First Prize, were you? What about all that special food and disease prevention solution I gave you? Ungrateful child! What am I to do with you?
Plants that hide the posts of my new arch: I am amazed at how tall you have grown, how well you have stretched out and filled in that area! Well done thou good and faithful servants! Just stick with me through the winter and we can party hardy again in the spring.
This entry was posted
on Thursday, September 4, 2008
at Thursday, September 04, 2008
and is filed under
flowers,
gardening,
roses,
the raising of . . .
. You can follow any responses to this entry through the
comments feed
.
Posts
