Rose removal

 Not the pink one - that is still alive.
The Dead Woodshed Rambler Rose

Rose removal : for three hours I've been using the loppers, tip-toeing around the woodshed, trying to stop any falling rose pieces from scratching me. And guess what? There are two Paul Transon ramblers. Two! I remember now - back in the day I tended to over-plant...

So one is completely rotted away at the base, large canes all still attached. The other is ninety percent dead wood, but has some living canes which reach up and over the woodshed roof. Nearby are two more (rambling roses, that is) - a gaudy pink (American Pillar?), very much alive, and Alberic Barbier, who came from an innocent little cutting and has taken over most of my washing line.

But there's more!

But there's more! A horrible vine - I think a banana passionfruit, and I didn't plant it, honestly - which Non-Gardening Partner chopped off at the base a few months ago. He didn't, however, even start to cut any of the huge woody trunks and branches up. It, too, has to be removed. No thorns, but it's the worst offender as far as dead wood is concerned. Oh joy. Wish me luck.

 There is a woodshed underneath all this mess.
Dead Rose

And all of these darlings have climbed and stretched their way up and over the woodshed, even to the very top of the variegated Elm tree (well, the vine has). I need NGP in here with two chainsaws - the usual, plus the one on a pole. But here's my dilemma : can I trust him not to stomp all over the hostas? Hmm...

 So pretty. Hate to see them stomped over...

It's dusty work, and I haven't begun to clean my mess up. But I did have a rather lovely lunch break. Took a cup of tea over to the cottage and yes - Speckles the stray was still there, sitting in the sun. He and Minimus both had a bite to eat while I read my book. I love cats, you might have guessed.

 My cottage cat.

Thursday 3rd December

Humph. Another three hours underneath the towering mess of vine and dead rambling rose. This time I carted mess out and burnt it on the bonfire. Popped over to the cottage for afternoon tea - no sign of Speckles the cat today. Oh well. The cat decides. Asked Minimus where her friend was - she didn't know.

Great cat company...

But lovely Minimus was great cat company on her own, rolling around on the dusty path and leaping upon a small piece of wood which she would then try to - ahem - disembowel. Kept her cat-brain busy and her furry grey body well exercised for ages, while I read my detective book.

I thought some more about the removal of that rose. This could become one of my biggest garden jobs ever. And so sad - Paul Transon was so beautiful in his day. Check out the photograph below. So sad.

 Photograph taken six years ago.
RIP Paul Transon