New Home; New Rose

A young friend of mine closed on a house recently and is eagerly anticipating spring landscaping for the first time. He asked me to recommend a rose--something easy and that would not grow too large. For a second my mind raced over dozens of possibilities, but then I settled on a sure bet and said, "Any of the Knock Out roses will give you tons of color, and they are completely fuss free." "Sounds perfect!" my friend said. But is it?
From the above photo you can see the deep, blue-tinged foliage and the juicy raspberry color of the Knock Out rose. Other colors are available now, including a pastel version called Rainbow Knock Out. They are not fragrant, which is a huge strike against them in my opinion. I live for the heavenly scent of roses.
My first rose garden featured Madame Hardy and Felicite Parmentier, two heirloom varieties that bloom gloriously in spring for a few sweetly scented weeks and then are gone for the rest of the year. Most years thrips would find their way into the hearts of the pale, fragrant blossoms, causing them to shatter and shortening their season even more. Other years some of the many-petaled buds would ball and turn to mush. It is a challenge to celebrate the blooms I do get, while bouncing back from each year's inevitable disappointments. Growing a variety of different roses helps. Each of the different types of roses have their own charms to recommend them, and often when one rose does poorly, another will thrive. But some years are mighty disappointing.
I finally added Knock Out to my own garden because I wanted something to be always, reliably in bloom. I wanted a rose that wouldn't drop all its leaves with black spot late every summer. I wanted one rose that would never let me down. Knock Out is that rose.
I hope my friend will be very happy with his new home--and his new roses! Knock Out rose photo by JulenaJo.

Rose Ramblings

One winter day I bought a $5 bunch of flowers from the grocery store and enjoyed them for several days before they dropped their petals. This single rose far outlasted all the others, and defying the odds, opened into an enormous blossom. I just had to take a picture.
The $5 was well-spent, if you ask me, as I get so hungry for flowers, especially roses, in the winter. The temporary fix will never fully compensate for the lush reward of my own rose garden, however, because this gorgeous, florist-grown rose had absolutely no scent.
It's astounding to me that, in the course of developing roses for the florist trade, hybridizers went so exclusively for form over substance. In breeding for a perfect, high-centered bloom that lasts long in the vase, little thought was given to fragrance or disease-resistance.
Nowadays, we've seen a complete turnaround in rose hybridization. William Radler developed Knock Out roses, with foliage seemingly impervious to black spot. Black spot is probably the most dreaded rose affliction--and the reason many people consider roses too persnickety to grow. Not only does Knock Out rose foliage radiate healthy indifference to disease, but the flowers come on continuously from spring to frost. The only thing that would make it perfect is scent. It has precious little.
David Austin, probably the most famous rose hybridizer of recent history, has bred a whole new type of roses, the so-called "English roses." Austin's roses remind you of those that bloomed each spring on grandma's farm with their profusion of petals and heady perfume. Unlike grandma's roses, however, these roses bloom again and again all summer long. Thank you, David Austin!
Will the next generation of roses bring about a blending of Knock Out's disease resistance and bloom power, and Austin's form and fragrance? What a wonderful thought! Unnamed rose photo by JulenaJo.

Autumn Joy

This is Autumn Joy, another sedum in my garden. Autumn Joy is a gardening cliche. Perhaps the most commonly planted sedum in Midwestern landscapes, she is often planted alongside Stella D'Oro daylilies and Knock Out roses. The Three Stooges--the Larry, Curly and Moe of horticulture! I balked at adding them to my garden because I wanted to be special. To stand out from the rest. To be unique.
It didn't take long before I caved. First came Autumn Joy, a gift from a friend who was dividing her perennials. I took it to be kind, I thought. But now look what I'm doing. Shamelessly promoting it in my blog. Autumn Joy became a gardening cliche because it WORKS. From the tender, succulent growth in spring and summer, to the fizzy pink umbels that drive bees to distraction in late summer, to the lovely brown caps in fall and winter, Autumn Joy delivers.
Later I added Knock Out roses to the mix. I know I'll be writing about Knock Out roses in a future post. They will revolutionize rose gardening with their imperviousness to disease and nonstop blooming. I can spot a Knock Out rose a mile away--it's just that singular.
I haven't succombed to the "charms" of Stella D'Oro daylily yet, but I have added two others: an unnamed double orange from my godmother's garden and Pardon Me, a gorgeous redhead who blooms for quite a long time in late summer. I put the word charms in quotes because I really dislike the cheesy yellow of Stella. I feel like apologizing because she makes up for it by blooming so prolifically. It's my own failing somehow, that I cannot love that particular shade of yellow. I'm sorry, Stella, but you're one cliche that won't be found in my Midwestern garden any time soon. Autumn Joy photo by JulenaJo.