Every Rose Has Its Thorn... That's What Makes Them Interesting

I love roses.

Wild roses, shrub roses, hybrid teas... and I love rose patterned china and wallpaper and rose-scented perfume and the Jackson & Perkins catalog.  My youngest daughter's middle name is Rose.  During the college years, I actually worked in a shop that sold only roses... and never tired of being surrounded by them.

I love receiving roses, love arranging them and love growing them.  My daughters gave me two rose bushes for Mother's Day... both hybrid teas, a challenge to my horticultural ability.  They are both actually still alive.  I'm not sure how to gently suggest that if, in the future, they decide to bless me with more rose bushes, that blessing might live longer if they choose the hardier "shrub" variety.  Particularly those bred in Canada.  But I'll do my best with these, and hope they prosper for years to come.

Where did I get this love of roses? Honestly, I don't know.  Maybe I'm just fussy... but think its more likely the contrast between the delicate beauty of each rose, and its thorny backbone.  To me, something is truly beautiful when it has a bit of an edge or a challenge to it.  One cannot frolic about picking roses as you would daisies, without receiving a fistful of thorns.  They command respect.  Admire their beauty, inhale their fragrance, and pick them if you wish... but carefully, or risk being scratched...

A bouquet of roses from the bushes my daughters gave me sits on my table at the moment... the first of many (I hope).  The flowers are a bit faded and droopy from the heat we've endured lately. In my eyes, however, a more beautiful bouquet does not exist.