The Tale of Two Roses

Dickens said it best when he stated, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity…” Things at the Cape of Dreams have been maddening beyond belief. Tears have been shed in the past couple of days, but that is a tale for another day. For now, I am going to focus on the good in life and tell you the story of my roses. And so, my tale begins….

It was the best of roses, it was the worst of roses, it was the age of the bloom, it was the age of the thorn, it was the bud of belief, it was the stem of incredulity. Last June, I shared my yellow rose bush with you. It was in the height of its glory, and it was a wonder to behold.

Then, winter arrived with all its fury and my bush disappeared in a bank of frozen whiteness. When the snow had finally melted, I was disappointed to see that my rose bush showed no signs of life. By mid-May it was obvious that the branches were dead.

However, there were a few sprouts down by the roots. I decided to cut the bush down to the roots to see if it would regrow like a phoenix from the ashes. After a couple of weeks, it had grown quite a bit.

Not ready to endure a summer without the sweet scent of the rose near my back door, I opted to purchase another bush in case the yellow one did not make it. I chose the most fragrant variety that my local nursery had to offer.

Just over one month later, the yellow rose was budding and the red rose was in full bloom. The red blooms are gorgeous, but to my dismay, they have not lived up to their potential, and my roses do not smell as good as the ones at the nursery. I guess it is true that we cannot have it all.

The day before I left for my trip, the yellow buds opened to reveal delicious smelling flowers. I had been blessed with blooms on both bushes. Thus, as the worst of times for my little rosebush turned to the best of flowers in the end, the worst of what I have experienced this week was balanced by the good of being surrounded by my loving family. I am blessed to have their support and fortunate that what happened this week is nothing that a little…make that a lot…of money cannot fix.

On Friday, I will let you know what is causing me to cry. It really is nothing more than the never-ending repairs necessary on an old house. In the meantime, stop and smell the roses. The ones near you, because of course you cannot smell mine, but you can enjoy their beauty.

I am linking this post on Fishtail Cottage! Make sure to visit all of the lovely gardens shared there.

Happy Homemaking!