Handsome and our family went to a favorite vacation spot. Prior to leaving, I was worried because we had already experienced three-digit temperatures. I had been watering more. Before #2son married, I planted extra flowering stuff in our back yard and breezeway gate. Out-of-town family was expected, and I wanted the house to look tip-top perfect.
Then the high temps hit.
So when vacation rolled around, I asked friends to help with additional watering. And they did! But…
Upon our return, my roses looked terrible. A while back, I had other roses. A virus infected them, and all had to go. To get roses to grow in those spots, I would have to dig out the dirt there. Who knew if I could remove all the bad stuff?
So other things went in the roses’ places, and I put roses in large pots, including a cutting rooted from my grandmother’s pink variety.
Of course, the other pots mattered, but the pink one mattered most. It had been hit hard over the last two years with freezing temps despite my best efforts to protect it.
I dumped my suitcase in the house and picked up the hose. All the leaves on all the roses were curled. One wasn’t going to make it, which was disappointing as it had been large and glorious before the first big freeze.
When I reached Grandmother’s rose, my heart almost stopped. For this one had a bud. One bud. I gave it a drink and checked the next day. The bud opened. And by the third day, a full-blown flower. Stunning.
I like to think Grandmother, with her green thumb, watched over her baby.
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