Hello my petal
There is a feeling about that the rose of almost national pride, of mythology and unsurpassable beauty is just too bothersome to grow.! It is easy to understand how this can arise. In a poor season (summer this year is no exception) the blooms can be, quite frankly, disappointing and with the added scourge of mildew, black spot, balling, and insect attack, the season can be short and very discouraging.
However, roses were never my strong point, even though I am easily seduced by their spice and lemon scents which waft around the garden on the kind of summer evenings we associate with our childhood. Certainly, I have fallen in and out of love with roses a number of times, but I have now reached an understanding with them and they with me. Most of the old-fashioned kinds I have avoided for a very good reason. I find them a demanding bunch, performing flirtatiously in a brief but gorgeous flurry, before reverting to their hungry and potentially sickly alter egos for the remainder of the year. From this you will gather I speak mainly, but not totally, of those roses which bloom in one great showing for anything up to eight weeks, then rest for yet another year.