My mom planted roses in our front yard when I was a teenager.
They were pretty, but high maintenance.
She had to spray them with a bunch of products to prevent rust, thrips, etc.
I determined never to plant roses, because I don't baby plants.
I already have four kids and six birds to keep alive,
so I figure anything growing in our yard has to fend for itself.
Well, never say never.
Last year, I noticed a hardy red rose in several people's yards,
and I decided to plant one and see how it fared.
I also bought a couple lavender plants to keep it company
(and hopefully deter deer with their strong aroma).
I drew up a simple plan of where I wanted my new little friends to go . . .
. . . and then I made a ridiculously complex plan
for moving some existing plants and amending the soil.
(I only stuck to about half of the plan. 'Cuz that's how I roll.)
A few days ago, I marched out to my future rose bed
and set to work yanking out grass and weeds.
It took me over an hour to even get this far.
Why does weeding take so long?
Maybe I'm doing it wrong.
Anyway, I kept at it all through the weekend . . .
. . . and finally got Rosie and her new friends planted this morning.
Wish them luck!
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