My Dad would give my Mom a dozen roses throughout their marriage. All of them would be red to represent “love” but there would always be a lone yellow rose to represent “friendship.” The only yellow rose blossom contrasted against the sea of red. Both my mother and her mother had rose bushes in their backyards. I could see my mom’s yellow roses through the living room window, the blossoms swaying in the wind from my favorite armchair. I’d sit back and watch them. My Grandma had a much larger variety of rose bushes. She had all sorts of colors and would display large bouquets of them on her kitchen table.
Roses can even tolerate the scorching desert heat with enough water. Yucca Valley has a lovely rose garden by their community center with a surprising variety of roses. I enjoyed walking among them when we first moved to the Morongo Basin, being very watchful over my 18-month old daughter as she trotted among the thorny bushes trying to find the biggest and prettiest blossoms. She’d point each one out to me before burying her little nose into the blooms, inhale deeply, and say “Ummm, is good!”
When I finally got my own home with a yard I knew I wanted to have some rose bushes. Walmart was selling bare-root roses and I splurged one day and bought two of them There were no leaves or flowers on either of them. They were just a couple of sticks with roots wrapped in plastic wrap. The label on one of them promised a yellow rose and the other a red rose. I read the directions on the wrappers carefully and planted them in my backyard. The yellow rose was planted underneath my dining room window. I hoped that in time I would be able to look out my window and see the yellow blossoms swaying in the wind.
They both quickly had leaves and soon blossoms but the red rose didn’t seem to be doing was well as the yellow rose. It’s blossoms were shaped weird and it didn’t bloom near as much as the yellow rose bush did. My dog discovered he enjoyed the taste of rose bush and chewed up the red rose so much that I put the poor bush out of its misery and uprooted it. The yellow rose survived the mauling and my husband put stakes and a chicken wire fence around it for protection against our fury rose-killer. When my husband was installing the stakes he discovered why the yellow rose bush was doing so well. He drove the stake right through the washing machine run off pipe. When ever my washing machine drained, my rose bush got watered. What a happy accident!
I’ve learned how to take care of my surviving yellow rose bush. Youtube and Google directed me how to prune it. When I noticed the blooms weren’t frequent and unimpressive I asked for the advice of a more knowledgeable rose-grower. My Mom told me that roses are heavy drinkers and feeders. Well, I had the watering down but my rose must be hungry too. I started fertilizing with rose food and my little rose bush has flourished.
My yellow rose bush is doing well surrounded by its protective fence. It’s watered by the washing machine and the leftover water in the dog’s water dish. I write on my calendar when it’s time to fertilize it with rose food. It’s not big enough for me to look out of my dining room window to see its blooms but I think it will be with time. I’ve enjoyed harvesting it’s blooms and displaying them on my kitchen table. When I sit at the kitchen table I get whiffs of the roses perfume and it smells sweeter than the other roses because it came from my own backyard.