still wet

I am well aware of the fact that this humidity, drizzle, dampness, with the occasional heavy shower, are not what roses like. Before I began planting them, I always believed roses liked rain. They are, in my mind, an English flower -- all the great rose growers seem to come from England (okay, also Germany and France, but when I think of beautiful rose gardens, I think of England) and I view England as being... soggy. A place where you should never leave your home without an umbrella. Ergo, roses -- a flower that thrives there -- must like soggy, drippy, wet weather, no?

Actually no.  Root rot and fungal diseases -- they're what you get with a steady stream of rainy days. As for my thoughts about English roses, well, it turns out that the countries that grow the most roses are Colombia and Ecuador, followed by Bulgaria -- which grows roses massively for perfume. In terms of exports and sales, even Poland does more with roses than England. 

But here you really have to differentiate between roses grown for commercial purposes and garden roses. With the latter, Great Britain does in fact dominate. The English dude David Austin revolutionized rose growing with the development of old fashioned shapes and fragrances and in recent years, he joined the Germans in focusing on disease resistance in these roses. France and Canada followed.

So why do all this in England, given its wet climate? Well, in the past at least, England had many qualities that are good for roses: consistent but not excessive moisture (rather than downpours with sitting water), moderate temps (rather than scorching heat), and perhaps most importantly -- growers who are keenly aware of climate and growing conditions, and who adapt their breeding programs accordingly. 

But here, in south-central Wisconsin, I have already planted some 50 roses (scattered in the four corners of Steffi's House and Garden), and I have some 20 more to go and let me tell you, all this rain, coupled with poor base soil (I can only dig out only so much of the crap in my little plot of land) has me worried. I'm picking off black spotted leaves every day now and though it's all still under control, all I see is rain in the forecast and the sight of all those clouds and raindrops on my screen ties my stomach up in knots.

Breakfast -- lovely, in my corner.

 

 

 

Millie is still unsure about me being in her chair every morning... 

But in a couple of months, I hope she'll finally accept the fact that this chair is for both of us!

Though most of the time -- just for her.

 

 

 

I take the girl to doggie day care, then stop over at the farmhouse to unburden Ed of some more of the loose items I'd left behind. This is the hateful stuff that you haven't the heart to throw out, yet there's no real reason to keep it either. Stacks of old photographs that never quite made it into any album. Language books, books on walks in and around Paris, unused notebooks, sticker books for the kids, puzzle books, card games. A lobster pot. A Christmas tree stand that I would only use again if I were to go with a big, living tree. But am I ever going to do that? Unlikely. I could go on. This stuff is scattered on the floor of the farmhouse sunroom and I dont really want any of it, but nor do I just want to dump it in the trash. So I go through a little at a time and each item that I bring back to Steffi's basement causes me great pain because I know I will never touch it again and yet, here I am, bringing it home. Honestly, I wish that Ed had, in a fit of rage, dumped all of it in the trash, but of course, Ed doesn't have fits of rage, nor does he want my wrath when I find out that he (hypothetically) threw out my most beloved whatever.

Despite the drizzle, I take the shovel out and move some plants around. Making room. The next week should keep me busy as well. I do intend to be done by Fall (Tuesday), but you just never know!

 

And in the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. We walk Goose and then settle down to read together. Except -- I forgot my reading glasses! I take the book to the best light and I try to decipher the words -- I sound like a second grader struggling to figure out the sounds! Sorry, Snowdrop -- this will not work! Instead, can I treat you to a treat at Barriques?

(hot chocolate with whipped cream... the girl is so agreeable!)

At home, I did something for the last time this year -- I tuned into the live sale of roses at Grace Farm. It's a three hour Thursday evening thing. They try to offload roses at discount prices, digging up large plants from private collections as well as from their nursery, and I always pick up my very best deals then. This time, knowing that it's my last rose purchase of the year (us Wisconsin people cannot put flowers into the ground after the first frost date, which is on October 1st for Madison), I successfully bid on nine.  This means that I will be planting past the first day of Fall. It also means that I will be done with the side bed this year, and it will be a bed of mostly roses. Now I just have to live long enough to see them bloom in years to come! Unfortunately, it also means that I have a lot of sod removal and digging in the next days. Ah well, calloused hands are healthy hands.

with so much love...