Apr 30, 2002 4 min read

I think I’ll plant some rose bushes. Our still new home here in the city came with something that I had wanted for a long, long time – a small yard. In our mountain home, I mowed almost two acres. In the house I dwelled in before that there were copious quantities of grass – almost six acres – that I mowed each week.

In the house I occupied before that the lawn was probably near a half to an acre, which I cut (since I was much younger then) with an old, nearly-impossible-to-start push mower.

Oh, as the yards grew in size, so did my means of cutting them. I went through three lawn tractors during the 20 years or so I lived on what seemed like the Ponderosa.

So, I suppose, one of the key selling points for me when I first viewed what was to become our latest domicile was its rather tiny yard. It consists of a strip between the street and the sidewalk that I can easily straddle, a small patch in front of the house and a backyard that is slightly larger than a goat pen (and one for not that many goats at that).

Cutting this grass, even with the wonderfully wet and muggy climate we have experienced in recent weeks, is a breeze compared to what I used to cut.

Yes, I have been forced to trim the growth every several days, but I don’t mind because it is thick, lush and it gets me a little more exercise.

Besides, not this entire Lilliputian yard is in grass. There are quite a few ornamental shrubs, plants, a couple of nice trees, flowers, etc. There is one tiny spot where we have placed our park bench and a couple of Adirondack chairs that is nearly hidden by all this growth.

Yet, I have a hankering for something I had in the first yard I trimmed, some rose bushes.

The house was older and so were the plantings. There were pink, yellow, white and red roses that grew, not from a vine, but from freestanding bushes. Everyone said they were an older variety.

At the time if it was green, I ran over it with the lawnmower. If it had a flower on it, I left it alone.

I’m still pretty much like that, although if it’s green and it looks like it might be something above and beyond grass, I will leave it alone. Until my lovely wife asks me, “Why are you letting those weeds grow?’ Then I know it’s nothing she planted or wants and I pare it.

Sitting one evening in our little alcove I surveyed the yard, thinking it needs a little more color. I know there are thousands of flower varieties that I could contemplate cultivating. But somehow the yard reminded me of those old rose bushes.

I mentioned it to my wife and she seemed okay with the idea. “That would be nice,’ she exclaimed. Normally when I mention some project I have in mind for the yard she asks first “Why do you want to do that?’ followed closely by something akin to “Not over my dead body.’

Frankly I didn’t see much wrong with planting corn in the middle of the yard. And the snow peas I managed to sneak into her flower bed had some blossoms on them – at least for a little while.

Now I have to search for some older rose varieties, investigate what type of soil they will mature in, check to see if they are sun or shade types, find out how deep they must be set, learn if they need a lot of water and make sure the flowers produced will go with the other flora in our yard.

Which means it’s going to be a long time before I can actually get those rose bushes in the yard.

But after all, isn’t it the thought that counts?

Besides, I might still be able to find a bush that looks like a rose but grows corn.

Sounds great to me.

Have a good day.