Have you ever had one of those moments when something stopped you dead in your tracks? It connects with you and makes no sense, but you must have it.

Yea. Let’s talk about that, shall we?

It was a year ago. I was visiting my parents, and we decided to visit one of their favorite greenhouses. My goal: buy easy-to-care-for plants the neighborhood deer won’t consume. Oh, and must love shade! Easy ask, huh? I learned the lesson years ago not to get tasty flowers or forever be dousing them in deer repellent. And your girl doesn’t have the greenest of thumbs. It’s kinda green. We’ll call it a deep army green.

Wondering the aisle of plants, I picked a couple that met my requirements of being gross in deer taste and low gardening skills required. Check and check.

We wondered back to the aisles of flowers I had no business being around: peonies, roses, lilies…these are the flowers that are MawMaw level. The ones that my grandmother (MawMaw) could keep alive and thriving.

Then it happened. I can’t even describe it. But I knew I had to have it: a speckled white and pink rose bush. Omg. What was I doing? I didn’t know anything about rose bushes. I could barely keep my petunias watered enough and looking decent. A rose bush?! Who was I?

The thing is that I can’t describe why or how I connected with it and another soft pink and yellow rose bush. It’s not like I’ve been interested in getting rose bushes, and I’m well aware of my lack of gardening skills. But that’s the thing about me; if I want something and I don’t have the knowledge or experience, I’ll figure it the f out.

I bought the rose bushes and buckled them for safety for the ride home, and riding shotgun was my determination (some people close to me may use the word stubborn, but it’s really determination, ok?).

I picked out the best possible spot in the yard. It was not perfect, but it got great afternoon sun and some bright light reflecting off my neighbor’s white house. I dove into research: reading, watching videos, and asking friends and family.

I had no idea what I was doing, but I was willing to learn. That meant battling a season of aphids, constantly spraying deer repellent, winterizing the bushes, and regularly pruning to cut off the dead parts and help direct energy into new growth. I check on those babies every morning, and you know what? They’re doing just fine. They’ve more than doubled in size and have been blooming like crazy.

The moral of the story is to always buy the rose bush. Let your determination ride shotgun, push doubt out the window, and buckle up for the ride. You’ll figure it out along the way; if all else fails, you’ll learn a good lesson or two.


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