From my Catholic patron saint, St. Theresa of Lisieux, "The Little Flower" ... she loved roses and led a humble life. When she died, there was a strong perfume of roses that were witnessed by many.

Also from visiting Cantigny rose park nearby. That's where I sniffed Eglantyne, Jude the Obscure, Abraham Darby and fell in love with Austins. Twenty years ago I fell in love with their Angel Face and Mr. Lincoln ... but the park no longer has those two.

From my grandmother, Margaret Rose Davis Cain, who took me to her rose garden, and taught me to snap off the dead blooms with my fingers.

I think of her, when ever I do that. And thinking of her makes me feel happy, just as roses do.

Jeri

jerijen, what a nice, very special memory. I remember my grandmother as being the first to paint my fingernails. I rarely wear nail polish now, but on occasion, I paint my daughter's nails, and the memory still returns :)

It was when I got a cutting of the rambler growing at my Grandparent's place in Wellfleet, MA. It flowered that first year, different shades of pink with one completely white bloom.
I went to the local nursery, the man gave me 6 Austin's for $5.00.
I don't remember them all, only one which was The Prince.
Then I came to this forum where I was enabled :) to lie to my husband and tell him the lawn man said it was hopeless, we could not grow grass in our front lawn. Then I discovered Vintage Gardens-I still think their catalog is one of the most valuable Rose Books I own.
All I know now is that I was meant to grow OGRs. Couldn't be happier.

As an adult I reread a favorite book from childhood, The Treasure is the Rose by Julia Cunningham. The heroine of the book has a garden of pink and white damask roses.

I didn't know what damask roses were, so I had to google them and ended up on a website all about OGRs. I saw pictures of Rose de Rescht and Belle Isis among others. Having only seen Hybrid Teas before, my reaction was typical--that's a rose?!

Rose de Rescht was one of the first roses I ordered. When I smelled it, I had a vivid image of being a child in my great grandmother's garden on a sunny day. I don't know if she grew Rose de Rescht, but she must have had something that smelled just like it for me to remember that moment so clearly.

For me, it was watching Snow White (Disney version) as a young girl and seeing those white roses over the wishing well. Roses I had seen, didn't look like that...but many of the roses I now have in my garden do :)

Now I love to mix in soft pink roses and any rose (that will grow here) that changes color from purples to pinks. So much fun with the nieces and nephews...they seem to be magical roses.

I stumbled on this forum in 2001 while I was still court reporting and researching something for a transcript. Somehow or other a riotous thread, I think by Patrick on William Shakespeare 2000 came up. Until that point I had no idea there were roses other than HT's as neither my mother nor grandmother, even though they were serious gardeners, were rose gardeners. And the rest is history.

A grandparent on each side of my family gardened with roses.

My mother's father mostly grew hybrid teas but he planted a Blaze on the fence, too. His roses included climbing Talisman, Tropicana, and Mr. Lincoln. My grandfather rooted cuttings for my mother, and I loved to breathe in the scents of Tropicana and Lincoln as a youngster. My mother also grew Peace--shrub and climbing, Pinocchio, and Red Pinocchio. My dad's mom started a Summer Snow for her, and she propagated two more. A childhood friend and I used to play Snow White and Rose Red with Summer Snow and Red Pinocchio.

My father's mother grew mainly floribundas (Nearly Wild) and polyanthas (Summer Snow). She also grew Queen Elizabeth--started from a stem in a bouquet. Her thumb was one of those green ones. She could plop a mayonnaise jar on top of a cutting and it took. I have the receipt for her Nearly Wild purchased in the 50's. Her roses are hanging by a thread now, but they're still there, as are my mother's.

All the above planted seeds of rose love in my heart and nurtured the appreciation of pass along plants. I've carried on the tradition with various family members.

I couldn't honestly say. Unlike quite a few here, I had no epiphany or defining memory and, in truth, roses did not really appear over my garden horizon until I had been through various horticultural incarnations. For quite a long time, it was the process of growing (any plants), rather than loving a particular style or plant family, which held me in its sway. Starting with simple divisions of easy perennials, moving onto cuttings and finally exploring growing from seed, my interests were limited to what I could produce for myself. To increase my knowledge base, I signed on to do an RHS course at my local agricultural college.It was an illuminating few years for me because, as a self-taught gardener, there were huge gaps in my knowledge because I simply hadn't the space or time or inclination to explore numerous areas of horticulture (conifers, turf, trees, vegetables) and had to be encouraged to overcome various prejudices and fears. Roses, even though I had a few, never gained much traction. However, my lecturer had spent his youth as a contract budder in the Devon rose fields and he taught me the rudiments of chip budding and grafting. Learning to propagate my own roses opened up a whole area (which had previously been, in my mind, associated with large gardens and large bank balances) Growing my root stocks from seed led me to wild roses where I have pretty much remained.....I stayed at college, taking ever more advanced courses, eventually teaching the very course I first enrolled on. Had I never learned how to grow roses, I suspect they would have remained elusive and unremarkable because above all, gardening is a process and value, for me, comes from the investment of time, effort and involvement in the entire cycle, from seed to harvest to compost and back to the soil. For sure, I will buy a pretty plant from a nursery as happily as everyone else (I would be a rampant collector if I could afford it)........but these plants never really resonate on anything other than an aesthetic level whereas a cherished seedling carries an emotional punch which pretty much ensures the continuation of effort and care....and then the circle is closed.

I've gardened all my adult life. Rose is my middle name. I always had a few roses in my gardens. I didn't fall in love until 1997. I saw a small ad in our local paper advertising a Mother's Day sale of Antique roses. I was only vaguely aware that there were antique roses. Michael and i were intrigued, but we weren't at all prepared for what we found. It was Gail Daily's Mendocino Heirloom Roses. There was a whole large area filled with enchanting roses liked I'd never seen, all in three to five gallon pots all blooming. The scents, colors, and full blooms knocked our socks off. They all had romantic names. Gail handed me one and told me that it had been in the garden of Josephine Bonaparte. It was like a dream. We jammed our little car with roses and came back the next day for more. I've never been the same since. 1300 roses later I'm still in love.

3 things brought me to the Queen of Flowers, the primary thread was a love for Old Roses.

The budding;
because my mother collected rare plants I began to evaluate growth habit and foliage at a young age. When I was c. 8 I noticed I liked the big deep green leaves on her Mlle. Cecille Brunner, and how the dainty pink roses grew on long slender red stems (I learned much later the word corymb) . Of all the roses I had ever seen, in public gardens, the neighborhood or my own mothers rose garden, it was the only rose I loved, because the entire bush was beautiful, not just the bloom.

The opening;
It was my friend and neighbor, Luanne W., who told me "You should try growing Old Garden Roses " after I complained about the rental property,in Oakland, Ca which had 200+ types of roses, nearly all of them scentless and modern and I didn't care for a rose that lacked fragrance. She invited me to vintage gardens to participate in Dirt Days. My life became enriched after that in ways I could not imagine, volunteering to rejuvenate a neglected public Old Rose Garden, trips with friends to the san jose heritage rose garden, listening to Mel and Miriam and Gregg speak about wonderful Old Roses.

Full bloom;
Vintage Gardens. I remember golden afternoons meeting wonderful people who shared our love for roses, sharing great food and yummy wine, on the veranda in the back, overlooking the California hills in the distance and thousands upon thousands of rosebushes in the acreage spreading below us.. i at Gregg Lowerys garden,vintagegardens.com home garden which is a work of splendor and beauty. Wandering the Gallica garden in spring, taking notes on the Hybrid Spinosissima and Hybrid Chinas... Malton ... wowzers... Taking turns with friends running from one plant to another "You've gotta smell this rose!!!" "Look at the color of this purple rose!!" "Have you seen the Tea garden area? Marie Van Houtte is huge!"
O my stars, did you see the arbor entry way to the Old European rose garden??? Long John Silvers in bloom!!!
Weeding on Dirt Day and then making the pilgrimage to the retail store down the road, to buy the treasures we had just seen.
My love for Old Roses strengthened and their beauty permeated my being.
2013,vintagegardens.com closes, the end of an era of such bliss, such joy
... and gratitude and beauty remain.

Lux.

We bought a house that had a lovely rose garden already in place. At first, I thought I would pull the roses up and do something else-- I mean, what on earth did I know about roses? Only that I'd heard they were difficult to grow.

I didn't get the roses pulled up before our first spring here and was amazed by their first flush.

So... I began reading, researching, and shopping. At this point, I am addicted to roses and am planning to expand our current rose garden.

I love the rose forums on GardenWeb -- so many share their knowledge, experience, and love of roses. Makes roses a little less intimidating and the learning curve a little less steep. :)

My mom had always loved roses but I was way too much of a rebellious tomboy to be too interested. Then in the last years of her life she came to live with me. She was on oxygen and her movement was limited by her 'leash' as she called it. I built a raised box bed that would put a rose at face level, put it right outside the back door where she could reach it, and planted a Tiffany HT for her - chosen for it's fragrance. I've had dirt under my fingernails ever since.

I'm like Campanula, in that roses crept up on me gradually without any particular epiphany. I've always helped with my parent's garden at home with annuals and vegetables, and I started with those when I had my own space. Then I got tired of replanting every year and moved into perennials. I still love them, but once they're established they tend to mostly take care of themselves. I needed something with more drama, more changeability, more unknowns, more history, more height, OK to be honest, more of an excuse to putter in the garden. After Champlain, my gateway rose, convinced me roses aren't that hard to grow, the rest is history. 700 roses later I can't imagine getting tired of them.

Cynthia

Kind of an opposite story:

For years I have disliked roses. As a child, spending time in clients yards while tagging along with dad that always contained roses of the "do not touch my roses" variety never made roses enticing to me.

The neighbor had a wonderful rose garden, but was an exhibitor, so those were of the do not even walk close to them variety.

Later, it was those wonderful bouquets of beautiful buds that had no smell and shattered rather than opening that made me say blah to roses.

But mom wanted roses, so I planted a few body bags and figured she could enjoy caring for them. Only the roses looked horrible, she kept asking me what to do and I hate failing at something like that in the garden. And besides, I liked the roses on antique china and fabric prints, the ones with out the high centers, and surely there had to be more roses out there that had a scent.

So I went to a rose care class at the local nursery.........

I didn't grow up in a gardening family at all. But after we bought our house, I knew I wanted to put "some sort of garden in", spent many hours digging in our rock hard clay in order to have flowers. While perusing garden books in the library, came across a rose book with all sorts of beautiful photos (all hybrid teas), and became interested. Then, one weekend spent in Corsicana at my BIL's farm (south of Dallas, this is the real Texas) I was thumbing through a Southern Living Magazine and came across a synopsis of a new book by William C Welch, "Antique Roses for the South". Ordered the book, and have been forever hooked!

I liked roses (and gardens, natural landscapes, trees, etc) from childhood on, but the more common kinds don't come naturally to Florida and my parents weren't great gardeners, so I didn't have much experience with them. The first house I bought many years later had a mature plant of 'Mme. Plantier' by the front door, and when it bloomed my first spring there, I thought a miracle had occurred. My horticulturalist sister egged me on with information and advice, and I've been growing roses ever since, mainly old and older varieties.

I had never seen a hybrid tea until I moved to the south of Sweden at the age of 21. The only roses in my northern village were red rugosas and pink albas, and few of them.

A friend of my mother's had a light pink and very double rose that covered a wall of her little house. I now believe it was an alba but as a child of 8 I knew nothing about roses and didn't think to ask.

But this rose set the standard for me and when I had my first real garden in 1994 albas were my first roses, Chloris, Princesse de Lamballe, Mme Legras de St Germain, Madame Plantier, Queen of Denmark, Maiden's Blush, Suaveolens, and Minette. Minette may have been the one I saw up north. I still have all of them, the same plants.

I've always loved flowers and as a small girl I would bring home stray dogs and plants from neighbors--- We had a beautiful pale pink rose on the side of our home---I never thought that it might have a name but my mother always had a bouquet of this rose and honeysuckle on the table.--Many years later I visited Longwood Gardens---there were many bushes of New Dawn which was the rose from my childhood) and the love affair began.
Florence

It must have begun when I was a child on a summer morning in my grandfather's garden in coastal Massachusetts. He was a romantic. We have a photo of him holding my grandmother on his lap when they were both in their 70s. She looks uncomfortable. He is positively beaming with love, pride and delight. He was also a terrible tease. One of his sayings was, "'Tis better to have loved and lost than to have won and been forever bossed." Anyway, he grew roses which filled his entire tiny garden except for a (very) few perennials and a (very very) few vegetables. The roses not only covered the ground, they grew up on trellises all around the garden. I had the impression that roses filled that garden in three dimensions. I must have smelled an old garden rose that summer morning because that memory lay latent until I smelled it again when I was in my thirties. Then I knew what I was smelling was an old garden rose and at that time I began reading the Graham Stuart Thomas' rose books. In my grandfather's garden I was enthralled with the process of layering when one summer my grandfather layered a rose branch into a galvanized bucket and the following summer severed the branch from the mother plant, dug up the bucket and handed it to my father for the 1,000+ mile trip home to be planted in our garden. My father, son of described grandfather, grew hybrid teas and 'Paul's Scarlet', 'American Beauty' and, later, 'Blaze', these last three given to him by his father. I liked the fragrant hybrid teas very much; 'Chrysler Imperial', 'Crimson Glory' and even 'Peace' but it was the old roses that instantly touched my heart with their scent.

Cath

I must have smelled an old garden rose that summer morning because that memory lay latent until I smelled it again when I was in my thirties.

Yes! That's exactly what happened to me--as I described in my post above. I don't think I would ever have remembered that moment again if it hadn't been for smelling Rose de Rescht.

I think I read somewhere that the sense of smell is deeply connected to memory somehow.

This post was edited by bellegallica_zone9 on Mon, Jul 1, 13 at 1:09

I love all these stories---they bring a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes----
Kay (Sugiepie)---I just know your grandmother loved having you tag along
Cath--your grandfather must have been a "hoot"-----
I also remember my precious father sitting on the ground and digging a small garden for me using his crutch to make the little ditch to plant seeds-----so many of us had loving relationships with gardening relatives--

I LOVE these stories---
Florence