Ghislaine de Féligonde (and a little gratitude)

ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-2-1 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-2-2 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-2-3 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-2-4 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-2-5 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-2-7 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-3-2 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-3-3 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-3-4 ghislaine de féligonde 9-12-3-7ghislaine de féligonde rose and beeSince I mentioned ‘Ghislaine de Féligonde’ in a recent post, I thought I’d share the rest of the photos I took last summer of this exceedingly pretty hybrid multiflora with you. This rose started out as a band in our garden (most of them do) and then was potted out in a larger container for the last couple of seasons. Last autumn I decided to move her into the garden to give her room to stretch a bit and, hopefully, weave in with the several other roses I have growing in that area including: ‘Reine Victoria’, ‘Mme Hardy’ and ‘Rêve d’Or’ to name a few. I lament to Jesse often how I can’t seem to wrap my brain around giving my plants enough space–it’s my biggest fault as a gardener, I think, and yet I love the wild, overgrown look so much that I think I do it subconsciously (and then pay for it later, blerg.)

These days I’m also very grateful for the healing power of plants and gardening. We said a final farewell to my grandmother and it’s been a long, very sad week. I immersed myself in seed catalogs, my rose book, greenhouse plans, plant illustrations, and even potted up a Meyer Lemon and Violette de Bordeaux fig tree to grow indoors this winter. Once again, the garden has lifted my spirits and someday, not now, but someday, I’ll share how my grandmother was one of my earliest influences as a gardener and lover of nature.

In happier news, the last of my sweet pea seeds arrived yesterday. All the way from England! I regaled (translation: bored to tears) Jesse with a soliloquy on the wonder of these seeds, each a tiny “package” of stored sunlight and nutrients gathered under the English sky soon to burst forth in our garden thousands of miles away from it’s original home. Wait, did I just bore you, too?

7 thoughts on “Ghislaine de Féligonde (and a little gratitude)

  1. I’m so sorry to hear of your grandmother. I learned my love for garden from my grandam, too. I log show things like that can be passed down in families.

    These roses all look like they’re having the very best time!

  2. Nope, didn’t bore me. 🙂

    I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother. How wonderful that she was such an influence on you and wonderful that the garden can be a solace in this painful time.

    Your rose photos are making me long for things to grow again outside! And giving me inspiration for my coming garden. We won’t be staying in this house (if all goes well) for very long, and so I’ve been trying to decide what to do about roses. In the ground? In containers? Some of each? Your containers look so lovely.

  3. So sorry for your loss, my grandmother was also the one who passed her love of gardening to me.

    I would love to hear more about the sweet pea saga. Although poor Jesse, he would find a understanding ear in my finace. The ear I haven’t talked off about the garden that is. 🙂

  4. Thank you everyone! I wasn’t sure if I should even mention my grandmother here on a “gardening blog” but then I remembered I would be in good company and you all would understand.

    Anne: I totally feel your pain about being in that limbo and not sure where to put your roses!! I had so many in containers a couple of years ago (over 65 if you can believe it) and now most of them are in the ground. If you go with containers, I’ve found that the David Austins do very well in them. 🙂

    Kimmy: The poor men in our life! Haha! I’ll be (hopefully) starting my sweet peas soon. Jesse said he’ll build me a little greenhouse to move them into and I’ll be sure to keep this blog updated with the results. Fingers crossed.

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