If you came to my door today, this is how you would be greeted. It is a little dark because we are having a bit of rain today, unusual (and welcome) for sunny so cal. But, look at those roses, cut from the garden just now. There aren't really too many more in bloom right now, as I have not fed or cut the bushes back this year. When we first moved in I hated roses, I found the flowers to be so typical, the bushes so ugly. But then I learned to see the beauty...they grow like weeds (i.e. easy), they smell divine, and they are wonderful in arrangements. My favorites are the David Austin old fashioned roses- the more petals the better. I went rose-bush crazy for awhile there many years back. I would anxiously await the new catalog from Hortus (a magical garden center in Pasadena, although I don't know if they are in existance anymore), researching the roses by color, form, type and, deciding whether I had to have it, and where I could squeeze it in. I placed an order for the bare-root plants and patiently waited. There were a few springs that our garden was spectacular, I was into it, spending most of the day out there while my daughter played in the yard, a toddler quite content to toddle. But then the gophers got aggressive, eating the entire root system of over 40 plants (I told you I was obsessed, squeezing them in everywhere!), and my daughter grew and wanted to play out front, on the street, with friends, and I got pregnant again. That all seemed to be the end of that phase for awhile. Reminiscing about it makes me long for gardening again, but there is only so much time in a day. Maybe this spring, now that my son is in school all day for the first time.
The roses on my door are tucked into an old bottle that is wired to a scrap piece of wood. Vintage wallpapaer is glued on top, as is a bit of old accounting paper. A wood stain was rubbed over the whole thing. A glittered bird is peeking through, old seambinding tied on here and there with an old rhinestone button and shoebuckle attached. A Wendy Addison glittered heart hangs from some old tinsel ribbon, and an old tag that now states "love lives here" (because most of the time it does). Velvet ribbon is tied so it hangs from a drawer pull (Anthropologie) that I screwed in the door. Unfortunately, if you came to the door today, I'd try to visit with you outside because the house is a MESS! Off to try to get it under control.