…would be, well, a different rose.
My Mr. Lincoln is the only rose bush that survived last summer’s drought, and that, just barely. All of my roses are in containers. Mr. Lincoln was lucky enough to have the largest, which is probably what saved him. The other containers made it hard for me to find that balance between too much water and not enough, and the roses had been in them long enough that their roots didn’t have any wiggle room left. If I watered too close to one of the infrequent (but drenching) rains, their little feet stayed wet. Roses don’t like wet feets. I should have moved them all into garbage cans.
But why don’t I just plant them in the yard? Several reasons. One, I don’t like digging in concrete — my yard might as well be a parking lot for all the decent top soil that’s in it. Two, I like having things where I can reach them without bending over a lot — I have a bad back. Three, it’s almost as bad to plant a rose in clay soil as in is to plant it in a swamp. Clay retains water — remember about the wet feets.
So I have two new Chrysler Imperials, planted in garbage cans with a mix of mulch, topsoil, and potting mix, and one has a bud. But Mr. Lincoln has given me my first two blooms already, and they smell divine! Too bad the fragrance doesn’t download onto the computer, but you can look at the pretty red color.
Mr. Lincoln 1
Mr. Lincoln 2
