Some pictures of the roses starting to bloom.

This is a “Lady Banks” rose that completely took over a corner of the house.  Thorn less, but only blooms one a year.  However, the blooming is  spectacular and they last a long time.  We cut it down and transplanted it to the new wrought iron fence in the front, where it is greatly diminished.  Next year it should get on it’s feet and spread.

 

(Lady of Shallot Rose, David Austen English Roses)

 

The backyard has been an issue for years:  4 dogs don’t help, especially the two girls, Daphne and the new Mia.  They compete as to who can dig the biggest holes.

We gave up on grass until we put out potted roses and some blueberries.  Now if they want to destroy the grass, they have to maneuver around big pots.  And since it’s getting really hot out there, they rather spend the hours of extreme sun inside on the cool tiles of the laundry room. ,,,

Our great friend, Nick Nicholson from Canberra, Australia was here in March, and the backyard didn’t look anything like this.  Nick, these photos are for you.

Lady Nyo 

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Most of these roses are potted, patio roses, except for a Coretta King rose, (second from left)  three new apricot David Austin roses ( Lady of Shallot) , and a few other English roses , names escape me.  This is just the second year we have had patio roses, and it is amazing how easy they are to grow.  They are constant bloomers, and will soon outgrow their bots.  No disease, no demands except water and fertilizer.  Since we have 8 hens and a rooster, we are using chicken poop for fertilizer.  If you look at the back of the most expensive rose food, the first ingredients are feathers and poop.  Having this fertilizer daily to distribute, the roses are loving it.

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These  two “New Dawn” roses  are climbers.  They are a lovely rose, with almost no smell unfortunately. A very heavy blooming in the spring, and then repeat (sort of) bloom  later. These are just gathering buds and clusters of flowers that will bloom fully in about a week and a half.  These  two roses form a tunnel that is 12 feet long and 5 feet deep.  It is quite spectacular in full blossom.  I’ll take more pictures when these are in full flower. We will have to put up a real pergola  soon as they need the support.  Quite a show when they are in full bloom.

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“New Dawn” up close.

 

With today’s deluge,  a torrent of rain that has caused  a ‘boil water’ warning, we are expecting more rain tomorrow.  With all these roses and a new (and weedy) garden, we need all the rain we can get.

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Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2016

 

More Spring in Bloom, and Steve Isaak.

I bought Steve Isaak’s new book:  “Can’t Sleep”, poems, 1987-2007 and this is such a dense collection of poetry, I am having to go through it very, very  slowly.

Steve must have made movies before…in a past life, behind some huge camera.  His poetry is like snippets of some dream-movie, but I won’t blow this review right now.  It’s just an issue of so much imagery to plumb and to pack in.  Review to follow next week when I can get a better perspective on this marvelous and first book by a truly original poet.

The pictures are of my back garden….over a fence and archway.  I believe this rose bush…actually two rose bushes, are “Bonicas”…Nope…they are NEW DAWN) .but they might be something else, because they certainly are climbers.  I love pale, pink roses, and these 5 year old plants certainly are giving their all.  They are ‘constant’ bloomers and you only get that by heavy feeding…which I don’t.  I will have to remember to feed them and all the others, because they are such spectacular plants they deserve the effort.

Lady Nyo

Bonica Rose Bush...we think

more of the same bush

more roses

GRAHAM THOMAS

She stood quietly in the garden, dappled sunlight falling like a tattered golden veil, crushing a Graham Thomas in her hand.  The silky texture slipped through long, bony fingers. A seductive perfume carried upwards, the feel of the petals reminiscent of something she vaguely remembered in the past.

Yes, she remembered now.  It was her sex, soft and puffy, with powdered lips awaiting the frisson of arousal. The man who once kissed those lips was long dead, a pale ghost to her memory.

A tower of rose heads nodded their encouragement.  They watched her season after season, the cycle of bush-life matching her own. Grown thin during the years, all gnarled canes beneath and gall, too. Within years both had become feeble. Soon the bush would cover her grave, dropping its petals in remembrance until it, too, faded from earth.

Now Graham Thomas was pleading to cover her mound with his perfumed beauty. He would nestle within the deserted folds of her abandoned sex. He would make her juicy again.

He promised to leave the thorns on the bush.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2008