I love roses. I know - they can be a pain to grow, and some varieties can be leggy and ugly. And I'm terrible at pruning. I wince and cringe with each cut, and after about three cuts I just give up. So I shouldn't grow roses, and I know this. But I buy rosebushes anyway.
And, given my wimpy nature with regard to pruning, I certainly shouldn't grow climbing roses. I know this, too. So, against all reason, I brought home a pretty little climbing rosebush two years ago and put it in the flower bed next to the house.
I had this image of a trellis, and greenery with yellow roses shading the porch on warm summer afternoons. I was going to sit out there with a cold drink and a book, and the fragrance of the roses all around me. It was a pretty fantasy.
The reality has been somewhat different. That rosebush hasn't produced a single rose. She has, however, produced dozens of horrible spiky branches that reach out and try to grab you as you carry groceries into the house. She grabs at the dogs as they go out the door, and she's even invaded the porch with her horrid spikes. I've named her Audrey.
Audrey was the carnivorous plant from The Little Shop of Horrors. While my rose bush hasn't eaten anyone (that I know of, although I haven't seen that skunk around here recently), she is a hazard. And she has to be moved.
I thought I'd wait until later in the spring to move her, but upon talking to some local gardeners who specialize in roses, it seems that you need to move the plant before a series of warm days in a row cause the sap to start running and the plant to come out of dormancy. We're expecting a warm-up this weekend, so Audrey must go to her new home before she gets too warm.
Wish me luck. And if you don't hear from me in a couple of days, send a rescue squad armed with hedge clippers and pruning shears!
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