Greetings, Shoestringers! I hope this post finds you savoring the simple life and appreciating abundance. Today I come bearing roses --all because a good friend of mine showed me the same kindness yesterday! Instagram followers of @shoestringsally will recall the pictures I posted of my friend Dave's beautiful flower garden. Since I last cataloged his vibrant array of tulips, everything's been coming up roses and since I won't be able to check them out during their peak he brought me a lovely fresh-cut bouquet! It certainly cheered up my day and I learned an interesting thing or two from my green-thumbed chum.
|Ta-dah! Flowers for Sally!|
Unfortunately it does not look like I share my buddy's knack for flower growing. The mixed seeds I planted out in the country have given bloom to a hearty bed of dirt. I was a swell enough gardener growing up in Pennsylvania with its rich dark soil but even with reinforcements from the gardening store I have not had much luck with this sandy New England stuff. Sigh. Oh well, from first world problems to first class serendipities, my bouquet takes the cake! And my gardening guru Dave always teaches me something interesting to boot, like the names of these wonderful flowers. Naming roses is big business and taken very seriously. Some of the monikers are truly whimsical. Here's a rundown of the blooms in my bouquet:
Teasing Georgia?! I love it! But I think my favorite name is Constance Spry (lower right corner). Constance Spry was a renowned floral authority who re-popularized the cultivating and arranging of the "wilder" antique varieties of rose during the early-to-mid 20th century.
My Spry is certainly both wild and striking, with its trio of darker buds surrounding a center bloom:
I got the whole scoop from Dave about antique roses vs. modern, highly-cultivated ones. For anyone whose curiosity about roses has now been piqued, Dave recommends Michael Pollan's essay Into the Rose Garden. The link takes you straight to the article on Pollan's website but you can also find it in his book of essays Second Nature: A Gardener's Education.
Now I will end this post with one last burst of floral color. And never forget, whether you slave to grow them or simply buy and show them, always take a moment to stop and smell the roses.