I’m a little sore, that good kind where your body says “hey creampuff, you didn’t move around much this winter, didja.” Yesterday saw alot of garden work done. Most noteably, the Sally Holmes rose was pruned. “ppht” you say, “you pruned a rose, how exciting.” Not just any rose, Sally Holmes is a monster. A beautiful monster,but one nonetheless. 10 foot vines (this thing is only 2 years old!!) with curved
claw thorns that grab and snag and are as long as cat’s claws.
Last night as we were getting ready for bed, Terry caught sight of my arms and politely requested that I wear long sleeves to church today, because not only are there scratches, there are small dime sized bruises where the
“Why do you keep such a thing?” You may ask. Because it’s beautiful, it vines and I can train it along the fence,
it reaches out and scratches the paint on Terry’s truck when he drives by, the flowers are enormous and fragrant, and it’s so dense and vigourous it makes a good screen around the vegetable beds.
Anyway, yesterday involved getting that monster pruned, a solid 2 hour job fraught with peril. Then I moved a nearby Zephirine Drouhine rose (a lovely thornless variety) that wasn’t doing as well as it could due to the proximity of the Sally Holmes, and a purple lantana what, while lovely,was too large for the spot it was in. All that digging and heaving was satisfying,but now my arms and back are a little sore. but it’s a good sore!
Today will see,hopefully, getting the gallica moved. If I can do that I’ll be satisfied. However, it’s looking cloudy, and if it rains then I do it later in the week.
You know what? It feels amazing to be talking about the garden,instead of griping about my kids or Terry’s job.