pardon my english

disclaimer: to all the garden aficionados I apologize for any distress,pain and suffering caused by my rose ignorance.

I love these roses. I call them English Roses. A true breed.

Not like the pointy, thornless supermarket roses bred for a long shelf and stem length. Something is lost there....the humongous petal count which takes each precious botanical gem forever to unfold and most important ...and the intoxicating, perfumerous scent! Isn't that the first thing you do when you pick up a rose? Give it a big sniff?

Oh to be Mena Suvari in American Beauty covered with all those roses (strategically placed of course).

I nickname these June's Perfume... As they were plopped in the ground so long ago the name may be lost forever....sadly they only grace the garden for the fleeting month of June...

I think of them as David Austin roses....cup-shaped with a maze of petals when in full bloom...forming a sacred cross in the center. Color simultaneously vibrant and faded on each velvety petal.

I daydream of Cotswold cottages amassed and shrouded in thorny vines peppered with color...Tasha Tudor at the doorway with a tea cozy.

I wish I could insert a scratch and sniff...the fragrance is divine.

Rosy, lemony, sweet, fruited, earthy.

So in true kitschy style...this is my blog postcard to you.....

"Wish You Were Here"

p.s. You know the ones Bethe!