RGR
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r.g.r or Rec.Gardens.Roses is my virtual Rose Family. Here I was warmly greeted and my weird NZ speak
accepted unreservedly. It was a proud moment when my VRS (Virtual Rosarian Society) t-shirt arrived.
Someday I must get a photo of me wearing it.

Most of the time I read and learn, and occasionally add my 2 cents worth. Every now and then though,
inspiration strikes and this page is a record of an example of that, and what resulted.

My inspiration was caused by me musing one day about the roses I grow, and the ways that they have affected
my life. I put a post up about this called "Roses that have had a Profound affect on my life" and I was
overwhelmed by the response. Many others were too, and after a brilliant suggestion
(and about 4 months later!) here is the list of posts from rgr members about Profound Roses. Read on.......

My First Post
John Woodworth
Mack
Robert Schroeder
John Woodworth
Paula Ballin
Liadan97
Beverly
Donna
Lyn Thompson
Marianne Ahrne
Ted Bissland
Dave Amorde
Mack
Dave Amorde
Suzanne
Mack
Carol (NZ)
Sam McGredy
Cindy Wilson
Ann Jordan
Robert Schroeder
Judy Pineda
Martha Frost
Mara
Robert Shroeder
My Last Post

Stacey

I was thinking the other day about why I have roses, and why I have
bought some of the roses I have, and I realised that some roses have
made an impact on my life which has been profound and often lasting.

I will share with you those roses and experiences, perhaps you could
do the same?

Shocking Blue - I saw this a bowl of this rose at Roseworld 94 in Chch
and after sniffing and admiring I decided I would have to have one.
And so my personal quest for roses began.

Souvenir de la Malmaison - I was enthralled with the beautiful
pictures I saw of this rose, and of the stories people had to tell.
Once I had my own one and saw its beauty for myself I was totally
hooked on Old Roses.

Chianti - this was actually the first rose I bought and I loved the
colour and fragrance. It started an on going love affair with Austins
which continues today. I now have 2 Chiantis fo the record :)

Pascali - this was my first effort at showing roses and with a bloom
of Pascali I got Premier Novice Exhibition Bloom. Totally and utterly
hooked on showing roses at that point!!

Winter Magic - I loved the look of this rose and once I had one I
began to appreciate the merits of the miniature roses. Now I have
several for myself and my rose fetish carries on stronger than ever.

Without roses my life would be a smaller, duller and less interesting
place, come to mention it the same could be said if I was without rgr!

Stacey - a moment to ponder and look what happens :)

John Woodworth

When our first child was born, I bought a bouquet of roses at the
hospital florist for my wife and son. The delivery was hard on the two of
them. We had little money, so this was a very big indulgence. We were
isolated with no other family nearby (We're exiles in this state) in the
middle of a white-out blizzard. Just the three of us in this sterile,
white room. We stayed together for two days in that hospital.

The roses were hybrid teas of a unique pink-peach color. Highly, highly
fragrant. Spicy. They were closed when I bought them, and when it came
time to go home, they were starting to unfurl. As I said, everything was
white, except the flush on my son's face, my wife's hair, and the roses.
The two days were trance-like. I remember holding Evan in a chair, looking
at his and my wife's sleeping faces. The rose just sat there, stilll like
the others. So peaceful, all, so perfect. So beautiful...

Those roses made it home and became more lovely by the hour. They lasted a
week. Before then, I had no knowledge of roses, or even horticulture. I
called the hospital for the name, the source, but they didn't know. They
came on the truck, was all they said, with the candy bars and Mylar
balloons. To this day, whenever I go into a florist, I look for these
roses. I never find them. I've never seen them in a catalog or anyone's
garden.

I guess they did have a profound effect on my life, being there at the
start of my fatherhood. Now I have another child, and a garden. But I will
always remember that scene of the roses on the table, the brilliant
whiteness of the snow outside, perfect baby skin and my wife's dark hair
spread across her pillow as she slept. As if it was now.

Mack

great story, John, I mean, really great, now you're gettin serious, I can't
handle it.
Save a Minnesotan, kill a Mosquito!! I didn't get that one the first coupla
times I read it. Just one mo thing:

>> "In the winter, we bundle up and snowmobile, ski, and play hockey. There
>> aren't too many fun things to do on da Range so there are many bars.
>>Virginia (population 9,400) has 20 bars on its main street."

>Ah, you got caught with the cut and paste, Mack. Da Range is another state
>(at least that's what the rest of MN hopes).

De range certainly has to be the State of any 'new' Minnesotan. Hope in one
hand, roses growing off I-90 in the other, which weighs more?

But re: profound effect????:

Gosh, I have pics!! of the very moment!! of course.
http://www.nrao.edu/~mstephen/nuuk.jpg
That's the rose, it's dead now, never knew what it was, or forgot. I
should go see a hypnotist. Gotalotta roses after that one.

The Yeoman. Backback when, this one got me in my first flamewar. Or second
or third. Lovely little runt, The Yeoman.

Red Minimo, only God knows how I got saddled with this one.

Pink Peace. Huge flaure nodding over on my mom's front porch, right around
the same time as the first one up there.
Used to have a basketball hoop in the back yard, I remember my mom told me
in a hissy once to WATCH IT! with the basketball, it landed on her roses,
so I suggested she move them, so she suggested to my old man that he rearrange
my ass flesh, which he in a way did. Keys are very important to a 16 year
old. I used to have to mow around roses, trim around em, I hated roses.
Then I stopped being such a jerk.
,
and speaking of profound I saw something profound that happened in ABQ the
other day. This Ford Taurus hit a guard rail head on, right in the middle
of the car, went in the front, out the back, and the Taurus continued for
about 50 yards on down the rail. Both occupants lived. Although one guy
did lose his arm. Most amazing thing I've ever seen. Took em hours to
deskewer the car.

Robert Schroeder

Such a wonderful thread!

I inherited my love of roses from my mother. My family did well to make
from payday to payday when I was young. We had just bought our first
home and moved in about a month before Mother's day. Daddy took us out
looking for a mother's day gift and we found a very small rose, I think
it cost all of two dollars. I don't remember the type, and that really
isn't important, but what was important was mother's tears...she had
always wanted a rose but as I said, they were out of our reach for many
years. I remember plainly cutting some flowers off the bush for mom one
day and giving them to her...she smiled and said thank you, then said
"you know, I like flowers, but I prefer them outside on the plant, where
they last so much longer and everyone can enjoy them." Those words
guide my love of gardening today. My spouse spent six weeks in the
hospital, thanks to a bad appendectomy. So, instead of sending flowers,
I sent a rose bush, a 'passion' rose, which is now the cornerstone of my
rose garden. And I still don't cut flowers (until they are well bloomed
out) because I want everyone to enjoy them.

My mom died four years ago. It was so touching that those who had sent
flowers (we had requested donations to a charity) remembered my mother's
love of potted plants, and sent potted plants...and yes, there was one
rose bush among them.

John Woodworth2

lms wrote:

> De range certainly has to be the State of any 'new' Minnesotan. Hope in one
> hand, roses growing off I-90 in the other, which weighs more?

The Iron Range has been shrinkng in population since the decline of the taconite
(iron ore) industry. Dylan is from there. He fled in the sixties, and wisely
changed his name, only admitting to Hibbing, MN, when he got famous and was immune
from disdain. It's kind of an ugly, dreary place, IMO. We send wayward
Cailfornians seeking to flee any of their latest Propositions, Earthquakes and Los
Ninos to repopulate it. We never hear from them again.

And hope always weighs heavy in the heart. As does sorrow. But roses can be an
expression of either, so they're always in the same hand.

> and speaking of profound I saw something profound that happened in ABQ the
> other day. This Ford Taurus hit a guard rail head on, right in the middle
> of the car, went in the front, out the back, and the Taurus continued for
> about 50 yards on down the rail. Both occupants lived. Although one guy
> did lose his arm. Most amazing thing I've ever seen. Took em hours to
> deskewer the car.

This will stay with you forever.

Paula Ballin

(lms) writes:

>Pink Peace. Huge flaure nodding over on my mom's front porch, right around
>the same time as the first one up there.
>Used to have a basketball hoop in the back yard, I remember my mom told me
>in a hissy once to WATCH IT! with the basketball, it landed on her roses,
>so I suggested she move them, so she suggested to my old man that he
>rearrange
>my ass flesh, which he in a way did. Keys are very important to a 16 year
>old. I used to have to mow around roses, trim around em, I hated roses.
>Then I stopped being such a jerk.

Pink Peace was one of our first roses. Grew to such height, the top of the
plant was just onder the sill of the window to the bathroom on the second
floor. It was sooooo fragrant that I couldn't think of a better place for it
to be. Well, The Donald decided to move it, 'cause it wasn't an exhibition
h.t., and if it grew so well in that spot, think of what a hot shot exhibition
rose could do. Upshot of the story? Nothing....repeat nothing...ever grew in
that spot again (it is now concreted over) and the Pink Peace died with the
move. Never got another that grew like that one. Moral of the story...if it
is planted in the wrong place, but loves where it is, and grows like a fool,
don't move it!

Liadan97 (sorry I don't know who this is)

My dearest Grandmother showed me how to cut and arrange the roses from her
garden in Redlands, in Southern California, when I was seven. I was very
honored, as she prized her roses highly. My favorite was Queen Elizabeth,
which was such a grand bush I couldn't reach the perfect pink buds on the top!

Summers in Redlands are very hot, but Grandmother closed the windows in her
lovely old crackerbox house right about dawn, and the house stayed cool,
scented with fresh roses arranged on piano, dining table and buffet, telephone
table, bedside table, front door table, kitchen table... at least while I was
visiting! I used every vase she had.

I grew up in New England, where only the wild Rugosas would grow without fuss.
I t would amaze me when Grandmother would call in February, when it was
bitterly cold and snowy outside, and gently tease me with the list of what
roses were blooming for her between the orange groves of Southern California.

Beverly

John Woodworth wrote a lovely story about when his:
> first child was born

When my first child (a son also) was born I brought in a few blooms of the
miniature Baby Darlin' to be my "focal point" (natural childbirth). Don't
really remember focusing on the roses too much but was told later I did a good
job focusing on almost biting my husband's thumb off.
Olympiad has had a profound effect on my life because it was my first and
favorite. Wasn't that interested in gardening when we bought our home - though
clearly remember inspecting two bushes of President Herbert Hoover planted by
the gate and as one was touched it fell over - rotten. Felt so guilty (did I
kill it?) went right out and bought two new rose bushes to replace them -
Olympiad (it was new AARS that year). Thank goodness I chose Olympiad because
if I had picked a lousy rose I might be on the petunia newsgroup instead.
Olympiad was the beginning of my passion for roses. BTW won my first trophy
with Olympiad when my son was only 6 weeks old.

Donna

I grew miniature roses when I was younger, but only because my step-grandfather
hybridized them and gave me plants for free. I liked them, but wasn't hooked at
that point. When I found out my Mom was dying, I began to feel a strong desire
to have roses around. About a month before she died, I bought my first
full-sized rose, a mauve HT. I was so proud of that rose -- showed her every new
bloom or leaf, and wondered with her about how incredible it was that I could
grow something so beautiful. I wasn't even smart enough to save the tag and
never have figured out exactly what it was, but there was something about the
color that matched my mood -- as if some passion had turned from red-hot to
charcoal, pale and hazy, but still smoldering with color and spirit from
somewhere deep within the bud. After my mom died, I felt I had lost my closest
friend and there was a very large void to fill. Something in me changed forever,
and that rose told the whole story. I bought a few more roses soon after that
and quickly found this group. The rest is history. Don't know which has filled
the void more -- the roses or the friends, but I just keep wanting more of both.

Lynn Thompson

Donna wrote:*snip*

Donna, that was beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes. My father died
25 years ago, but every time I see (or hear about) Chrysler Imperial,
Crimson Glory, Peace, Sutter's Gold, or Blaze I think about him. He had
lots more roses, but those are the names that have stuck with me through
the years.

I can still see him, on a chilly fall day, strolling around the garden.
He'd be wearing a sport coat and ascot, admiring his roses, with a
scotch and water in one hand and a cigarillo in the other.

Marianne Ahrne

I could have been about 8 and we lived in a small village not
far from the Baltic coast. Very few roses grew there, except
red rugosas. There were few gardens although people had big
yards. One day my mother had put a very big bunch of pale pink
roses on the coffee table, a gift from a friend. I remember her
house, a small ugly house covered in grey asbestos panels. One
gable was completely covered with this pink rose. It may have
been Minette or Maiden's Blush but I shall never know.

Later that day the roses were gone from the living room and my
mother told me that my father had asked her to take them away.
They reminded him of the funeral of his baby son from his first
marriage. This revelation came as a complete shock to me. I had
never heard of my father's first marriage and I remember I was
feeling both jealous and triumphant for years after.

This is how I first became aware of myself and of roses.

Ted Bissland

The Blue Rose wrote:

> I was thinking the other day about why I have roses, and why I have
> bought some of the roses I have, and I realised that some roses have
> made an impact on my life which has been profound and often lasting.
> snip
> Without roses my life would be a smaller, duller and less interesting
> place, come to mention it the same could be said if I was without rgr!
>
> Stacey - a moment to ponder and look what happens :)

Stacey- I know I'm safe in saying that we all share exactly those same
thoughts, plus some of the frustrations shared with golfers. :-))

Dave Amorde

>>Stacey - a moment to ponder and look what happens :)
>Stacey- I know I'm safe in saying that we all share exactly those
same thoughts, plus some >of the frustrations shared with golfers. :-))
>Ted

I guess that since I grow roses AND play golf, I'm truly doomed!
Actually, the only frustrations that roses have brought to my life
are:
1) my wife hates them
2) I can't find enought room for the ones I've got, but I MUST HAVE
MORE!!

Mack2

Volare says...
>
> Actually, the only frustrations that roses have brought to my life
>are:
> 1) my wife hates them
> 2) I can't find enought room for the ones I've got, but I MUST HAVE
>MORE!!

on the one hand, I might say that maybe should be I MUST HAVE A MORE!!,
while on the other,

>I've noticed Blackspot on Mdme. Hardy and R. moshata, rust on Don Juan (the
>rose, Suzanne, the rose!)

maybe I should think it's Suzanne!
,m
hahahaha, yeah I can say dead meat too. jeez, am I grateful for
the miles between us all right now.

Dave Amorde2

lms wrote in message <6e4ki7$d3s$1@newsfeed.cv.nrao.edu>...
>In article <OckAFBHT9GA.261@upnetnews02.moswest.msn.net>, Volare says...
>>
>> Actually, the only frustrations that roses have brought to my life
>>are:
>> 1) my wife hates them
>> 2) I can't find enought room for the ones I've got, but I MUST
HAVE
>>MORE!!
>
>on the one hand, I might say that maybe should be I MUST HAVE A MORE!!,
well, that depends, I'm a sociable guy...
>while on the other,
>
>>I've noticed Blackspot on Mdme. Hardy and R. moshata, rust on Don Juan
(the
>>rose, Suzanne, the rose!)
>
>maybe I should think it's Suzanne!
I'm not going to touch that. I've tasted my own foot too many times already!
>
>,m
>
>hahahaha, yeah I can say dead meat too. jeez, am I grateful for
>the miles between us all right now.
>
Thanks to my job, I travel frequently - you live where??

Suzanne

Rudolph V. Amore wrote:

>> Actually, the only frustrations that roses have brought to my life
>>are:
>> 1) my wife hates them
>> 2) I can't find enought room for the ones I've got, but I MUST HAVE
>>MORE!!

***Mack has to muddy the waters...

>on the one hand, I might say that maybe should be I MUST HAVE A MORE!!,
>while on the other,
>
>>I've noticed Blackspot on Mdme. Hardy and R. moshata, rust on Don Juan (the
>>rose, Suzanne, the rose!)
>
>maybe I should think it's Suzanne!
>
>,m

***and go right on mudding:

>hahahaha, yeah I can say dead meat too. jeez, am I grateful for
>the miles between us all right now.

***I'm grateful for da miles too, thank gawd. And, its "dead flesh" not meat!
*you're* comprehension of worldy matters...is slipping and mudding.

Kamikazeeee
P.S. And Dave, I know what a Don Juan ROSE is! In fact, I left mine behind
when we moved. It was pithy.

Mack3

>Rudolph V. Amore wrote:

Rudolph Volare Amore, more thpethifically, Mth. Donaldthon.

>>> Actually, the only frustrations that roses have brought to my life
>>>are:
>>> 1) my wife hates them
>>> 2) I can't find enought room for the ones I've got, but I MUST HAVE
>>>MORE!!
>
>***Mack has to muddy the waters...

I can't recall the instanth to which you refer.
We don't know how that got there.

>>on the one hand, I might say that maybe should be I MUST HAVE A MORE!!,
>>while on the other,
>>
>>>I've noticed Blackspot on Mdme. Hardy and R. moshata, rust on Don Juan (the
>>>rose, Suzanne, the rose!)
>>
>>maybe I should think it's Suzanne!
>>
>>,m
>
>***and go right on mudding:

Every effort ith being made to get to the bottom of thith, we
are leaving no turn unthtoned.

>>hahahaha, yeah I can say dead meat too. jeez, am I grateful for
>>the miles between us all right now.
>
>***I'm grateful for da miles too, thank gawd. And, its "dead flesh" not meat!
>*you're* comprehension of worldy matters...is slipping and mudding.

Air Forthe One is dithappearing from the radar thcreens, and
you're worried about Paula Volare, thame on you. The people, we
feel, of thith Great Country, are much better therved by continuing
to do the fine work we were elected to do, and thinth thith ith a matter
before the courtth right now, we chooth to make no further comment on
the matter.

>
>Kamikazeeee
>P.S. And Dave, I know what a Don Juan ROSE is! In fact, I left mine behind
>when we moved. It was pithy.

Pithy, Mth. Donaldthon. Thuthamme.
Thankth. Thimply a fantathtic tholution.
The Big Ugly'th been theeing thethe reportth from the LA area--thothe
raging bruth fireth, you know?--and wath at a real loth to know how
to put them out. Pith on them. What a conthept.

Carol (NZ)

Great thread, Stacey.
    I was never a gardener at all, till one day my daughter came
home from practising with her Marching Team [ a bit like cheerleaders,
but more military, like you see on the Edinborough Tatoo]. with a huge
bag. Informed me that I'd just bought 6 rose bushes as a fund raiser
!. BARE ROOT, NO garden space whatsoever .!!, Talk about a crash
course in Horticulture !, and on how to remove old shrubs to make
room. Of course, I got hooked.
    One year I did some cross pollinating, and the next year I got
i plant to germinate and grow ;- Not the most beautiful, or
commercially saleable, but MY rose - named it after my Mother, and her
Mother; - Ruby Alice, as my memorial to them.

Sam McGredy

When I emigrated to New Zealand in 1972, I had no idea if I could breed or
select roses in this very special and different climate. All my new
seedlings were growing at Avenue Nurseries in Levin, having been transported
from Ireland. I saw them once a week, as it was a long way from Auckland.

In the middle of the field, one day, I saw what I thought was a super
variety. Only three plants. Hard to tell. Different climate. Only looking
at it for one day instead of day-after-day-for-weeks in my Irish days.

Anyway, it ended up as Regensberg. Great rose. Hooray! I could breed roses
in New Zealand.

That was some impact:)

Cindy Wilson

I lost my mother to cancer when I was ten. Some of my fondest memories
were of helping her with her roses. I remember the Tropicana planted
just to the left of her bedroom window, and the yellow rose under mine.
(She told me she planted it there the year I was born.)

I've begun my own collection of roses now. Never gardened before, but
when I bought this farm in memory of my father (who died when I was 15,
before we could raise horses together), I HAD to put in the roses for my
mother.

Ann Jordan

I've raised miniatures for years in containers, but I'm only just getting
into full-size roses, now that my husband and I are finally getting a place
with a yard. My very first purchases? Blaze and Peace--two that my mother
always had in her garden. She loved those roses because they were
beautiful and they required practically no care--two things high on my
mom's list of priorities.

My mother died in October, two years ago, and only one rose was left in her
garden--a blowsy pink thing, name unknown. My mother was an artist and a
free spirit (with a vengeance!) and so my father and I put together a
miniature Viking boat and invited all her artist friends to a special
memorial service down by the river. At twilight, we sent the boat sailing
down the river to the strains of Wagner's "Flying Dutchman," sails ablaze,
with some of my mother's ashes in a little box. We burned the rose with
it.

Robert Schroeder2

amjordan wrote: *snip*

What a way to go!! I only hope that when it is my time, my family will
be as inventive!

Thanks for sharing!

Judy Pineda

The first rose I remember is Cecile Brunner. We had a very old bush in
the back yard of our San Francisco Victorian house, planted by my great
grandmother from Ireland sometime in the latter part of the last
century. During the month of May, my mother would create these lovely
miniature crowns of double layers of delicate Cecile Brunner rosebuds.
She would carefully wrap them in wax paper and refrigerate them
overnight, and we would carry them to school like we were holding the
10 commandments, in anticipation of the weekly crowning of the Blessed
Virgin Mary in our respective classes during the month of May. The nuns
loved our mother for this annual contribution to the spring ritual.

Those days are long ago, and it seems like a foreign country now.

And it's hard to say which rose truly got me hooked into my current
grand obsession -- probably some of my first attempts, which included
Just Joey, Sheer Bliss, Whiskey Mac, Granada and Heirloom. Add another
150 or so of both newer and older roses, and all I can say is that I'm
ready to buy more!!!!

Martha Frost

One occasion that roses affected me:
I had shoulder surgery, and was feeling good that my arm would
eventually work, but down because I could not garden or do much of
anything with arm taped to side for several months.
One day, my husband took me to Descanso Gardens in La Canada,
California, after the rose garden had been completely stripped and
rebuilt a few years before. It was April, the air was cool and still,
the sun bright, the sky actually blue (So Cal, not far from Los
Angeles). The new roses beds had filled out, most everything was in
bloom. I stuck my nose into everything-watching out for bees, of
course. It seems that allergies have now entered my life. My eyes
began to stream, and my nose ran like a small brook. My husband
patiently walked with me, and even let me stay-with two soaked
bandanas (yes-gross, but poignant,no?). My favorites were china teas.
Couldn't snuff enuff. The china teas were like cherries, and my
husband agreed that they had a wonderful fragrance. I still covet
those roses. It was Spring, it was Life, it was GRAND!

Mara

Wull, lesseee...profound effect on my LIFE? I dont think any particularrose has done that...but roses and gardening as a whole definitely keep mesane. I guess you could say that the one rose that has had a deep effecton my life patterns would be "Pure Poetry"...not my favorite, not even oneof my most liked...but its the one that started it all, blame it on PurePoetry and Gel needing to make up after a fight. Thats what got me here,so guess I have Pure Poetry and my luscious boyfriend to thank for mysanity too? Is that like connect the dots?

Robert Schroeder3

I hope someone is collecting these stories. They would be a great
addition to a web page or a wonderful article.

Thanks everyone for sharing.

My Last Post

Good Lord I opened up a can of worms here, in the best possible way :)!!!!

Someone made the suggestion we post all these on a collection on a web page,
I would be pleased to do this as I have plenty of room, and I started it :)

I have enjoyed reading all the tales, it is both sad and heartwarming that
many peoples memories are of loved ones now passed away, that we can remember
them with roses is a beautiful thing.

Roses have been in my family for years, even my Dad and Uncle still wax
eloquent about the roses my Nana used to grow, I am only sad that I was too
young to appreciate them at the time, as I am certain she had some varieties
no longer around :(

If you want to email me copies of your stories, I will make a collation and
post on my website.