York Roses
I’m sure it was just yesterday — but maybe the day before — that I looked out our bedroom window at the tubs of York Roses and there wasn’t a blossom to be seen. It’s been that kind of a Spring, all the way around.
But today I looked and there they were, almost bursting at their seams or whatever the equivalent of seams are for roses. AND, I was amazed to find that they are right on schedule. I looked back in my past blogs and saw that on June 16, 2012 I wrote:
This year the roses are finally back in full force. They are blossoming like crazy in their tubs, their distinctive red, white, and variegated blossoms brightening our gray June days. Three cheers and pip pip!
Dorothy Perkins Rosebuds
Apparently, my concern had been our losing battle with the Deer People. But then I had discovered “Liquid Fence” which smells REALLY bad (but fortunately only for a few minutes to humans and more like two weeks to the deer and rabbit folks) and allows roses and hydrangeas and camelias and geraniums to flourish.
Nyel’s Peony Buds
This year my concern was just the lateness of things. As in will we have any roses to put up at the cemetery when Charlie and Marta come and we take Nyel’s ashes up to tuck him into his place for eternity. Traditionally — or at least for my mother and father — we took the Dorothy Perkins roses with us. But those buds are hardly visible right now.
We have a couple of weeks yet … and the peonies are still coming on! Wouldn’t they be perfect?!
Today would have been Nyel’s 79th birthday. I had every intention that we would be celebrating it together — as well as at least two more. In fact, I began talking about his “80th” shortly after we met. He was telling me about the doctor’s prediction when he was first diagnosed with a heart murmur. “You’ll probably live to be 70,” that doctor had said. At the time of that prognosis, Nyel was five years old and 70 undoubtedly sounded like an impossibly high number.
We had talked about what we would do on this day. Maybe a small party, we thought. Or maybe just go out to dinner. But as the Spring struggled by and Nyel’s strength diminished, we decided we’d just have a simple dinner at home featuring a ribeye steak, steamed rice, and fresh asparagus. Just the two of us.
Last week and this have been non-stop appointments for Nyel — all the medical, dental, and you-name-it-health-related folks wanting to weigh in on his status, needs, unkept appointments, new prescriptions, etc. etc. that you might imagine after his recent four weeks in the hospital. We are both exhausted.
Mostly, we are both tired. Today we tried to nap after lunch, only to be interrupted by a phone call from Dr. Trusted’s assistant wanting to change Nyel’s meds based on yesterday’s lab tests. Unfortunately, the change would put him back to a combination that landed him in the hospital in March. Even more unfortunately, there don’t seem to be any alternatives left. But… they are working on it.
I white knuckled it through Raymond and up through the already washed-out and not-yet-repaired road to Montesano. OMG! And still it snowed. And hailed. And sleeted. It was slippery underfoot as I dashed into the restroom at the Montesano Quick Stop.