Pruning seems like it would be such a simple skill. It’s all about balance. Fruit wood. Dead wood. Thinning. Somehow, my end product never ends the way I envision. I’ve never lost fingers, that’s true. But, the plant becomes unbalanced or too thin. I’m really trying. Sadly the plant suffers through the year. This year, I plan to study more and get it right.
Last year, the roses were pruned with Mr. B’s small chain saw. This year, I’ll sit down with each plant and apologize. They pouted all year, giving me minimum effort in small, ragged little blossoms. This year, I’ll make it up to them. They are getting premium plant food and lots of attention. Rose aren’t for everyone or every yard. I really want them to like it here at Winterpast.
At the Ranch of Long Ago, VST built me a fountain. Not just any fountain, mind you. A mountain fountain made from the finest Sierra Nevada boulders. These boulders were so large, their placement involved a REAL forklift. Luckily, we had one on the farm, complete with a real farmer that knew how to drive and use this type of machinery. A friend had great ideas about the boulders, until he had better ideas about moving to Oregon, so we inherited the rocks. VST created a waterfall.
When the mountain waterfall was finished, it was awe-inspiring.
“Okay, Darlin’. I need to go disk the vines. The rest is up to you.”
I sat with a blank slate. The back wall of the garden area faced west. It was impossible to enjoy an evening out there until the sun went down, as the summer heat was relentless. The temperature soared over 100 degrees for months from May until October. In the middle of summer, the nights would often hover in the 90’s. Having a barrier of climbing plants to grow on the chain link fence would help a lot.
Going to our local Handy Andy’s, I found the perfect and inexpensive solution. Something called “Lady Banks Climbing Roses”. The softest yellow, the informative tag promised they were fast growing and hearty. They wouldn’t die in the 115 degree sunshine. They’d make a luxurious hedge. I bought 20 of them and headed home.
The soil in the Central Valley is heavenly. If I could receive a truck load of that soil, it would be more precious than 1,000 diamond rings. The soil here must be amended with years and years of added mulch and tillage. Even after that, you still have desert soil. At the ranch, you could toss out a tomato, and in two weeks, a new plant would be growing. California is rich in everything except sanity.
Scurrying home after work each night, the twenty rose bushes were soon nestled in and ready for their first year. Sure, I planted them a little closer than the instructions said. Really? “Plant 4′ apart”??? I wanted shade. I wanted action. I wanted a wall of the softest yellow beauty. I wanted it NOW.
Oy Vey.
The roses started growing. At first, it was delightful. They spread their little branches and GREW. They GREW through the chain link fence and touched leaves with their others.
How high are the rose bushes, Mama?
Two feet high and rising.
They met the top of the 5′ fence in the first month and kept going.
How high are the rose bushes, Mama?
Eight feet high and rising.
By September, they reached into the air and went for the roof of our patio cover.
How high the rose bushes, Mama?
Ten feet high and rising.
I couldn’t measure them after that. With all the love, care, best soil additives, and water, they were on their way. The afternoon sun was blocked. The softest yellow blooms provided nests for birds, pollen for bees, and a butterfly haven. The choice was brilliant, except for one thing.
This inexpensive variety of rose has millions of tiny little pokey thorns. Thorns up and down the stems. Thorns on the branches. Thorns on the trunks of the plants. Thorns that look so small, they couldn’t amount to anything, but thorns that will tear a chambray shirt to threads when you try to prune. I had planted a monstrous bank of evil thorns.
As the years went by, those roses were left to their own devices. Over 15 years time, their trunks split the chain link fence in many places. At their highest point, they were a good 20 feet in the air. They produced so many roses, it was impossible to trim away the dead ones. A wonderful hiding place existed now for a gopher snake or two. My great idea, over planted and abundant, had taken over. Thank goodness we lived in the country.
After the tenth season, VST helped with our REAL honest to goodness John Deere Tractor. Putting big chains at the trunks of a few of the biggest plants, he said some words that VST didn’t often say. With a few tugs, we thinned them. At 4′ apart, they were still overgrown, but it was all we could do to remove five bushes. The entire time, VST was questioning my though process in purchasing these horrible plants. I had to be quiet for he was 100% correct. They were a big mistake in many ways.
How I wish I could have that wall of roses now. Sadly, my desert roses struggle to grow at all. This season, I’ll talk to them and thank them for having a sensible amount of thorns. Thank goodness.
Today, I’m off to the garden center to see what’s come in. With nightly frost, it’s still too soon to plant much. Of course, there’s always the bareroot plants and bulbs The last days of winter taunt our gardening souls, eh?
More tomorrow.