If you're turning your nose up at the word rose, you're cutting yourself off from a whole fascinating, historical, cultural phenomenon. I love roses. Not the fickle hybrid roses that need spraying and coying and coiffing. Or god forbid, a shade-casting umbrella on a hot day. I love a good old fashioned, passed-along, rose. The equivalent to women with child bearing hips. Right?
And the first rose blooming this year in our garden is this one.
Enjoy the decadence of what we call Anne's rose. The rose that came from our friend Anne, and her great-aunt in Washington. What rose it was? I do not know. It's a pass-along. And it rarely gets black spot, never has shown signs of rust, it responds well to light pruning, but other than that? Requires very little.
I don't like fussy roses. But the old, heirloom roses like Anne's rose? Special and wonderful.
Do you grow roses? Do you love them? Hate them? Lay down on the couch and tell the rose doctor your feelings, won't you?