I've been weeding in the Hump's new rose garden, and it's inspired me to do some serious rose naming research. Oh boy! I've bought so many roses over the years, then shifted them hither and yonder.
One good thing : the beauty of weeds growing on top of thick mulch is that they pull out so easily. Nice for my sore hands and fingers, aching from thorn punctures and cutty grass cuts and general over-use. Oops. Even if I wear gloves my hands get a bit beaten up.
Path in Hump
Tuesday 19th November
With my spade I've cleared the main paths (mainly Lamium spilling over from the wild side) and dug out Alkanet. I've pulled out annual forget-me-nots and spread them around, and built a wee trellis of hazel suckers for the rose Clair Matin to lean over. This darling rose has never bloomed so well before.
Roses can be simple...
Roses can be really simple - they may survive in out-of-the-way, shady places, but what they really like is sun, good organic matter, and mulch. I promise never to plant a rose in an unsuitable location again. And to leave full, detailed records if I shift one.
Awful grass weed...
I found some awful grass weed intertwined in a Calamagrostis, its wicked white roots ready to spread far and wide, into my gardening world. Phew! Where did that come from? Sad - I threw the whole clump in the rubbish bin. Checked the Miscanthus (another ornamental grass) clump - no sign of anything evil. Mounded up the potatoes. The prettiest roses are flowering in this garden. Photographs, please!
A Barrow of Alkanet
I'm onto this rose identification lark! Please bear with me. My 2006 records show that I bought an Austin Velvet and Austin Wonder from a local rose nursery. Aha! Check out this spot of rose detection. Austin Velvet = Ausvelvet = The Prince. Austin Wonder = Auswonder = Ambridge rose. Clever me, I reckon. Now if I could only work out where they are...
And if only I could spot the difference between a Willian Shakespeare 2000 and a Prospero. Use the nose? My nose wouldn't know. Nor would my eyes recognise a gallica-form. OK, so Prospero is a short shrub, but both the unknown David Austin reds in the Hump are short and unhappy, having been shifted around a lot. Blast!
More shifting details...
Then apparently last year I shifted an Abraham Darby and an unknown Bourbon into the Hump. A Bourbon? Oh really? Today I pulled out a dead rose whose single stick hadn't sprouted anything. RIP Abraham? And - sorry about this - in 2011 I bought the roses Troilus and Kathryn Morley. So where are they now? In the Hump? I've found therein a fluffy pink, and a most peculiar rose which fits the Troilus colour description (there's photograph above for you to check with).
What's in a name?
Such important things to sort out. Oh boy. What's in a name? What's in a rose label? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet'. But 'tis a foolish gardener who throws rose labels out. Me!