"He who is born with a silver spoon in his mouth is generally considered a fortunate person, but his good fortune is small compared to that of the happy mortal who enters this world with a passion for flowers in his soul." Thaxter

I must admit the sky has looked very gloomy the past few days. It almost looked like a snow sky one day. But as I looked up the temperature reminded me where I was. In Upstate New York the skies look gloomy from October through March. I don't think I could handle that anymore after twenty-six years in the south. I didn't take my November trip home this year. I stayed home, lived at my house, worked in my gardens. The dogs were puzzled the first couple of days, but loved it when they realized I was on vacation. As you know I'm very reclusive and in ten days I only left the house three times. Once to do errands, once to get supplies and once to go to church. It was wonderful. Everyday I got up at regular time, but walked my gardens slowly, in my slippers instead of shoes. I didn't even watch TV. I did listen to the radio though. For three days I lived in my rose garden. Every morning I threw clippers, scissors, water bottles, gauntlets and my pillow in the big basket. Hat on, so I wouldn't have to carry it, to the roses I went. I clipped and weeded, crawled with my pillow and basket rose by rose. Down on the ground you get a better picture of the canes close-up and personal. Cutting out old canes, is a project I usually do in the deep of winter As the roses mature, the canes take on thick bark, and don't always produce flowers as prolifically as new canes do. With the old garden roses, I have noticed time and time again, how these roses will just shoot new canes out as the old canes start to fade. It's a self-preservation system that only God controls. My job is to pick and choose which canes are to go. Through the years I've learned the art of making the right choice. If you're not sure, clip the top of the cane and study the inside. There is sometimes a dark brown spot in the center. This tells you the cane is tired and even though the root of the bush is sustaining it, it's just taking, not giving. Therefore cut it off right down to the main trunk of the rose. Usually the outer color of the cane is gray like tree bark and sometimes has splits in it. This is another sign of age and it needs to be cut.

God gave me perfect weather, cool, breezy and beautiful. I would lose track of time and started having lunch later and later. A couple of times Big Sam, the Labrador, got to be in the rose garden with me. He would meander up and down the rows smelling and sniffing. Then he'd take a nap near me, just in case I might need him. Sometimes he would wake up and of course I'd be five roses down. Almost embarrassed he'd slowly walk to me and plop down again, telling himself not to nod off so deeply this time. The other dogs would be sitting, sleeping or playing on the other side of the fence. For many years Ben, my golden retriever was the only dog allowed in this garden. It's like he knew the manners of the rose garden. It's a quiet place with a slow moving pace, no running or barking. Big Sam is two years old this month and growing up. He, like Ben, understands this garden. Therefore he's allowed. Growing roses is a patient task and Sam is my most patient dog. I'll admit I like the company of a dog, especially one that's quiet and peaceful. My rose garden is my peaceful place where I play. I know each rose intimately and I've come to realize they really are not mine. They are in my care and I do my best with them. After all the weeding and clipping was done, I mulched the entire garden with pine straw for winter. Remember, many of these roses were put out this spring. Their roots are established but another layer of mulch will give these new root balls just a little more protection when cold comes. As I worked I collected rose hips and small clusters of roses in all colors. The small roses dry so nicely and don't fall apart. Sweet Annie got two new sister roses planted across the garden and a new Cecile Brunner got planted in the courtyard. When the rose garden was finished, there was that satisfaction of a job well done. But, then the sadness of winter coming on. As the bushes sway in the autumn breezes, there are buds growing for Christmas arrangements. Of all my gardens, I love this one the most. It reminds me how small I am in this large world. It also reminds me constantly whose garden it really is. Roses have taught me patience, and discipline. I am humbled by the beauty of bouquets. And I've learned what God meant when he said the word 'perfect', and only he can do that.