Friday, June 20, 2008

Tudor Rose

Well, I did it, I got us a rose bush. And I pulled out a dead bush, and I planted the rose bush, which I shall name the Tudor Bush in honor of my favorite author… and I wish it didn’t sound quite so dirty, but oh well.

Speaking of dirt. This next sentence shall perhaps clue the discerning eye into the fact that I am something of a gardening virgin. It turns out: gardening makes you dirty.


I was not quite expecting this amount of filth. Gardening was hard on my muscle-free arms and prickly on my newly buffed and manicured feet. I endured a lot of tickling to get those calluses off. Now I am kinda realizing people grow them for a reason. They serve a biological purpose. They help keep every FRICKING STICK AND PEBBLE FROM FEELING LIKE SHARDS OF GLASS. Prickly glass.

I was wrestling with the bush I was trying to get rid of when my neighbor wandered over, Avon catalog in hand. In flip-flops. I in my gardening gloves (they are purple! So cute! Shame to get them dirty…) and SPF 50 were wrestling a plant of less than a foot high. That sucker had IRON roots, I tell you. (Or, wait, that also might have been the pipe I hit with my LARGE SHOVEL. Hee. Oopsie. Hopefully The Funasaurus won’t read that part. I buried it, no one will notice, right?) So anyway, here I am in a sundress, flashing the entire neighborhood as I treat the sad little dead bush like a rabid alligator, and my neighbor is all, “Er, do you want a hand with that?”

I said “No” in the most yes-please-y way possible.

So she took hold of the bush, and yanked it out with her manicured fingers while I and my LARGE SHOVEL and gardening gloves stood by and watched.

Apparently she is not a gardening virgin.

So then I planted the new rose bush, and used my very burly set of pink floral gardening equipment to do it.


Can you see? Here’s a close-up:


See the bit of dirt? I used it!

I also forgot roses have thorns so I got scratched everywhere possible, including my BUM. But that was not so much due to the rose bush as the sad little dead bush behind me that I forgot about when I sat back to admire my handiwork. Ow.

Last night we went to a charity event. I am much more suited to charity events. Pretty dresses? Yes, please! Copious amounts of wine and valet parking and gourmet cupcakes? Oh, I was in heaven! Charity suits me. Gardening... was a bit of a stretch.

But now I have this in my yard.


And this.


Mrs. Tudor, this bit of princess-y deviance was for you.


Judy said...

Gardening can be very mind settling. I love gardening and get excited over the first blooms of something I have spent a lot of time in deciding where it's going to go. Bravo to you Miss
Gardening Virgin

Ramblin' Red said...

I am an outdoor gardening whore. But can't keep a houseplant alive if I try.

Congratulations on getting deflowered by a gorgeous rose ;op!

Diane said...

Glad to hear you have been gardening de-vigged.

And if you get aphids, go get a container of lady bugs from the nursery. It's the natural way to pest control and is good for hours of fun watching the lady bugs munch through thousands of aphids! (I recommend this activity be accompanied by a cold Corona).

Wickedly Scarlett said...

That is such a lovely tribute!! I would love to have rose bushes, but I can barely keep grass alive, so I fear that it would just be plant murder :(

Nick, Holly & Maren said...

you're so funny :-) my hands totally were NOT manicured. LOL
We were a good team!

Michele said...

LOL. Very funny post. And such a beautiful rose! Good for you for offering up such a fine tribute to a much-loved writer.

I love Diane's advice about getting lady bugs to feed on aphids. With Corona. You can also use soapy dishwater. On the aphids, not in place of the Corona. :-)