Always Coming Up Roses
One of the ridiculous things non-Angelenos inevitably say is that we have no seasons.
Balderdash!
Our changes of season are simply more subtle than theirs and involve fewer wardrobe changes.
When provoked to cruelty by weather junkies, with their ruddy cheeks and down jackets, I use my most patient, most annoying voice to explain that any fool knows when it’s winter in Southern California: You cut back your rosebushes and rush off to your favorite nursery to buy a few new bare-root roses to make your garden even more enviable.
It is unkind on my part.
Those ostensibly fortunate folks who have seasons saw their hardiest herbs grow black and squishy under the snow at Thanksgiving. Their tundra-like backyards look like places where only Inuit is spoken, and their interest in the voluptuous illustrations in seed catalogs borders on the prurient and is embarrassing to watch.
No wonder they hate us. They don’t see their first backyard rose until June and mourn the passing of the last one in October. We, meanwhile, wonder if we should plant a few more pansies and count the days until we can put in the morning glories.
They have a dozen terms for terrible driving conditions. We have a dozen for “Oh, darn. My tan seems to have faded.”
Southern California means always having roses, unless you cut them back. And during that brief period when your rosebushes are bloom-less, we have a vast selection of bare-roots.
Green Thumb Nursery in Canoga Park boasts that it has 150 varieties on hand. But, nursery manager Craig Marsden warns, “roses are going fast this year.”
The much sought-after Ultimate Pink has already sold out, and Diana, Princess of Wales, a creamy pink variety described by one Canoga Park shopper as “the rose for this season,” is currently available only by mail order.
Bare-roots are roses as pure potential. What you buy looks less like a living plant than like a bundle of sticks. But during a recent visit to Green Thumb, the aficionados were no more deterred by the dormant plants’ homely looks than gourmets are by the unlovely appearance of truffles.
Bare-roots are hardy and relatively cheap (a classic, deep red Mister Lincoln is only $4.99 at Green Thumb, whereas an old-fashioned English rose in shades of apricot and yellow called Abraham Darby is $14.99). Affordability is important because, as Linda Washer of Woodland Hills explains, “You just can’t have too many roses, as far as I’m concerned.”
Granada Hills resident Marge Landy is partial to apricot-colored roses. She likes Brandy and Just Joey. Her only gripe with the latter, she says, is that its stems aren’t as strong as some others.
Color and scent seem to be big deals for women shoppers when it comes to roses, and the wives at Green Thumb seem to have mastered a truth that has eluded their husbands--that the color apricot is not the same as peach.
As a result perhaps, Marge Landy seems to be doing most of the choosing, looking for bare-roots with nice big crowns and symmetrical arrangements of stems. Her husband, Hank, busies himself nearby.
“We have a very formal backyard,” Landy explains. There’s a boxwood hedge around the rose garden, and “I have a great big birdhouse that my husband built.” Occasionally, Hank surprises her with a new rose for their garden. One recent addition--Olympiad.
“That’s a beautiful red one that I got from my husband for Valentine’s Day.”
Nearby, Gretchen and Terry Thomann of Simi Valley are also scrutinizing bare-roots. Gretchen studies catalogs between visits to her favorite nurseries, and she consults a little notebook from time to time as she casts an expert eye on the plants before her.
The Thomanns already have some 50 roses. A couple of years ago Gretchen began turning their frontyard into an English garden, doubling the space they can devote to favorite plants. A crucial early step was building a fence they could train roses on.
Both Thomanns love the garden, especially their roses.
In Terry’s view: “It’s an addiction that doesn’t cause harm.”
“We have job descriptions,” he says. Gretchen is the botanical visionary, plotting every inch of her work-in-progress on paper, in color.
As for Terry: “I’m M & M--muscle and money.”
The Thomanns leave with a splashy red and yellow grandiflora called Gypsy Carnival.
Jo An Gumbert, shopping with husband, Barry, is looking for cutting roses. The bare-root season will be over by the end of the month, and she thinks the hybrid tea rose Signature would be a handsome addition to their lives.
Jo An, who recently moved to Westlake Village after 40 years in Woodland Hills, has two favorite crystal “rose bowls” in which she displays choice blooms that perfume her rooms.
As Linda Washer heads for the checkout counter, she has an apricot Just Joey and a violet Sterling Silver in her wagon.
“Maybe I’ll come back next week and get some more,” she says.
“I’m no authority,” she admits. “I have my gardener plant them. But I feed them. The best part is cutting them and bringing them into the house.”
