Monday, the best of the day had gone by when the Ira feeder bands started. Rain came in bucketfuls followed by time for it to soak in. Then more buckets. Today is overcast and humid. One would think we were living in the semi-tropics, somewhere.
The roses J planted were dancing with the wind and losing a few petals. They seemed to like the exercise, though, and put forth more blossoms to get into the spirit of the thing, the next day. The two roses that are on Jackson Perkins rootstock are not much subject to black spot. The third, a different stock, will need some attention. I told J I felt like digging it back up and replacing it with another from the JP rootstock. He just looked at me. I'm not the one who would be doing the digging.
Spraying or dusting, though? That would be me . . .
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Buckets of wind arrived along with the buckets of rain. Pass the digging duty to the youngest family member.
Pass on the digging duty? Pass it right by me!
My philosophy? If it doesn't enhance the gene pool, it doesn't need to be borrowing swimmies from me! Something got black-rot? It probably just needs to go ahead and let nature take its course. Rather than getting down and digging transplant dirt, I prefer to admire the survivors from the comfort of my rocker on the porch. ;)
The rose bushes have only been in the ground since June. I could probably just pull up the one requiring maintenance. Trouble is, I like the roses it bears. What to do, what to do?
Maybe I'll just wait. If it stops blooming, it'll be easier to let it go. So far, it seems to know this . .
What a great resource!
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