I’m not a gardener, not by a long shot. When I was living in the city I would inadvertently kill of whatever greenery my flatmate tried to put around the apartment. I think I killed several goldfish too, but that’s beside the point. The point is, I’m not a gardener.

When I was in hospital a couple months back, a very good friend brought me roses. It wasn’t until I got home that I realised they weren’t cut roses that I could stick in a pretty vase and throw out when they died. Oh no, she’d brought me potted roses, bless her environmentally friendly heart. Potted roses, that needed to be planted. So, remembering quite clearly I’m not much of a gardener, I planted them.

I planted them in the small garden on the porch, where Quinn liked to dig (I had hoped he might continue this practice once the was roses there, but instead he learned how to use the cat door and hung out inside, the silly dog!) I planted them with these blue pellets in a bag labelled ‘fertiliser’ that I found in the garage. Plants need nutrients, right? And fertiliser is meant to be good for gardens, right? I’m sure that’s how it’s meant to go. Something like that, anyway. So off I went, happyish that I’d planted something and thought perhaps if I watered it lots it might not die. So I watered it every other day and was generally glad that I hadn’t killed it yet.

Except, then the flowers turned from a delicate shade of apricot to blue. Fertiliser pellet blue, even. A super bright fertiliser blue. And then they fell off. In chunks. And then the leaves started to turn yellow and shrivel. I wasn’t really worried, and thought ‘oh well, killed another! Still not a gardener’ and was more than ready for the rest of the plant to die. At least I wouldn’t have to water it anymore.

But alas, the plant didn’t die. It made it through a swarm of hungry little aphids, and whatever it is that is making the leaves all grey and dusty (I suspect the snails). I stopped watering it while I went away over Christmas, and it survived that too (surprisingly, considering it’s undercover and doesn’t get water any other way). And not only did this plant survive, it’s flowering. Check it:

That is an actual flower bud. And, even better, it’s not BLUE! I still maintain that I’m not a gardener, not even close. These roses though, are the most stubborn, rugged and determined roses in all of history. And aren’t they pretty!