A funny thing happened on my trip to the hardware store. I walked in with a fluorescent light bulb to return and left with a truck full of rose bushes and soil. In an odd way, it was a good way to start work on the bed by my picket fence.
The light bulb sat in my van's front seat for a week. Each time I started to return it, I ended up someplace else. Antique shops, dinner with friends, the grocery store. Anything, and everything, seemed more fun than a return trip to the hardware store. The bulb cost $9.99. Did I really care about a refund? The fixture I bought it for had long since died. I didn't realize it didn't work until I put my new bulb in. Maybe I could use it when I replaced the old light. But fluorescent bulbs don't just tuck in anywhere for later, they are long, and fragile. Sick of looking at it in my front seat, I decided today was the day of action.
Who knew my timing was right for an unexpected pleasure!
Rain sprinkled on my face as I got out of my van. I looked ahead at the garden area. Rows of roses, all colors, stared back at me. In the misty, grey air, they looked magical. I pulled open the large glass door and walked into the hardware store.
“Need to return this light bulb.” I smiled at the girl at the register. “Here's my receipt.”
“Got it!” She punched some keys and handed me a pen. “Just sign here. Can I help you with anything else.”
“Those roses are wonderful outside. Think I'll just take a peek at them.” I laughed. She looked at me as if to say whatever.
“I have a new picket fence. Don't you think roses would be lovely planted by it?”
“They can help you in the garden area.” She was not excited with my idle chatter, but that has never stopped me before.
“Heading there now. Bet I spend more money than what I just got credit for.” I chuckled knowing full well it was do or die today. I needed to do this while I was inspired. If I didn't buy roses now, I wouldn't buy them at all this season. The cool rain made it all seem possible. My tax refund check would cover my costs. I didn't realize just how perfect my timing would be. But I would soon find out.
Two weekends ago I was at a garden tour. I talked to a master gardener from England and exclaimed how much I wanted roses by my fence. She was a bit haughty with her reply.
“Roses are perfect if you are in Britain. And I wouldn't plant anything except annuals now. Wait until the fall when the air is cooler. The root structure will be more hardy then. Now you'll have to water.”
It was raining that day too. Water didn't seem to be an issue this month. I couldn't wait until fall. My fence needed something lovely now.
“What's in that wagon?” I trailed behind a tall, lanky, man working in the garden area. The leaves looked like little rose leaves to me.
“Roses. Moving them to the back area.” He kept pulling the wagon and I trailed behind him.
“I want some roses to plant by my new picket fence. Just don't have a clue what to buy.” I knew there were new roses that were quite hardy and old roses that smelled divine. I didn't know the difference, and had not cared until I walked into the hardware store.
He stopped and smiled at me. A nice kind smile. He wasn't laughing at me yet. “So what are you looking for?”
“Real roses. I don't think I want to put fake flowers down by the fence, but I did see a lovely tall artificial bush at the antique shop last week.” I laughed hoping he would realize I was kidding.
“No way. Let me show you what we have. Who is going to plant them for you?'
I knew it wouldn't be me. The ground were the fence went in was full of old roots from large bushes my handyman took down. Gardening was not on his work agenda either.
“I don't know. Do you know someone?”
“Well, I do gardening and landscape design sometimes after I leave here. Maybe I could help.”
I didn't hesitate. “What do you charge and can you do it this week? I think the rain should stop by Friday.”
We struck a deal and I started to pick out my roses. Pink, pink, pink, red. I lined them up in front of me.
“Well, it's your garden, but I'm not sure of the colors. Also, you need to do odd numbers, three, five, so you can space them. Not four in a row.”
The young woman working across from us, spoke up.
“He's right. You could mix the colors, not so much pink. This is a white climbing rose.” She held out a pot with a beautiful bloom. “Maybe you could do pink, yellow, white, red. Place three on one side of your drive, and the climber on the other side. Don't mind me, I heard you talk about the fence.”
Based on their suggestions, I bought a mixture of colors.
“You'll need some soil too if that ground needs to be worked.”
“It's pretty horrible. How much should I get.”
We went over to the soil and decided on three bags.
“You know, I am off the clock in a minute. Let me load all this in my truck and follow you home. That way I can see where to come on Friday and get a better idea of the area. It does get sun, doesn't it?”
“Just the area by the driveway. Further down the Crepe Myrtles, and other trees, pretty much block it out.”
I went in and paid for my roses and dirt. He was waiting in his truck, everything loaded, when I got out. We headed to my house, which was less than two miles from the hardware shop.
“Great fence. The roses will be beautiful with it. Good choice.”
He unloaded everything and dropped it up at the end of my driveway.
“I don't want to tell you what to do, but you need to cut that ivy growing on your trees. It will kill the trees.”
“Someone else told me that a few years ago. I just haven't gotten around to it.”
“I'll take care of it Friday too. Just cut the ivy around the base of the tree and the rest will die off.”
The roses and dirt were next to my hen house (that's a story for later). I saw this as a photo op.
“Mind if I take your picture with the roses? I'm writing about all the work on my house for my blog.”
His laugh was pretty hardy. “Only one!” Then he struck a pose.
“So, Friday is good?”
“I'll call you early and should be here by nine.”
He backed his truck out of my drive and waved as he spun it around on the street and took off.
Life always takes me by surprise. I love that! Who would have thought a fluorescent bulb would light the path to bring a garden angel to my house.
