For those who don’t know me, I love roses.
Part of it is because they’re beautiful.
But mostly, I love roses because of my mum.
In the house that I grew up in, she had red roses growing along the front border of our property. There was always something special about them.
And ever since then, I’ve always associated roses with home.
A house is just a house. But for me, the presence of a rose bush means that love lives inside.
My grandfather used to grow snapdragons en masse, but my grandmother also used to love roses.
Last year, I moved to Toowoomba, a regional city in Queensland, Australia.
I left my mother’s home, where she’d grown up, and where my son had spent most of his childhood.
It ripped my heart out to leave.
We sold everything. There is nothing worse than knowing your home will soon belong to someone else.
The trees and the plants you love. The rose bush I gave mum.
But we have been blessed, and we are starting out anew.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband ordered this rose bush from a rose breeder in Victoria, and he gave it to me for my birthday.
Even though, writing has always been my hobby, I’ve become a bit of a gardener in my old age.
Suddenly, I’m asking questions about remedies for blackspot, what kind of mulch roses like, and whether or not I’m overwatering.
Toowoomba is experiencing a six-year drought at the moment. Although we have had rain, we haven’t had enough to really call the drought over.
The first picture at the top of the page was taken a couple of weeks ago, but I took the pictures underneath just recently.
Even the Jasmine I planted has died, which I didn’t expect.
I’m a bit worried about my rose too.
It didn’t like the intense Toowoomba sun (sorry about the focus of the images–photography isn’t my best area).
You can see some of the leaves are spotted and brown.
At first, I thought the rose had blackspot, but when I moved it under the verandah and gave it some black mulch, it seemed much happier.
I took the last picture today.
I’m feeling certain the rose is doing better, because there are some more buds on it now.
So I guess, I am a rose lover, like my mother before me, and my grandmother before her.
And this gorgeous pink rose makes my Toowoomba house my home.