Pruning the Roses (Pt. 1)

Do you know anything about gardening? I’m probably the least qualified to talk about gardening. I could care less about the differences between a gardenia and a petunia, other than the fact that they would make a good rhyme. When I see flowers, I don’t necessarily see the aesthetic beauty. What I see is more scientific or rational. This flower is brighter, this flower is bigger, this flower smells good, this one tastes funny, ooo look at those pretty colors swirling around. Whoops, shouldn’t have eaten that flower.

But there’s a thing or two I know about the grand science of horticulture. One, roses have thorns. I learned that the hard way when I was trying to go between two large rosebushes to escape from Jimmy Tay during a game of tag. I hurt in places I didn’t know I had! But at least I wasn’t caught! Yeah! Who cares if I have scratches up and down my face and neck, at least I wasn’t IT! And the second thing I learned was if you want bigger roses, you have to cut the entire bush down to its root. I too learned that lesson the hard way as well.

Here’s another long aside. Y’see, my maternal grandparents, whom I shall now call gong-gong (grandfather) and po-po (grandmother), had just moved into a new townhouse. As a welcome gift, we bought them 2 rose bushes. By “we”, I mean my sister and I picked out the rose bushes, while my parents paid. We planted them very carefully in front of their house. And again, by “we”, I mean my dad (cash machine) and gong-gong (grandfather) planted them while my sister and I watched TV inside. During the summer, each bush grew such beautiful roses. My sister and I would view with pride at how high each bush grew, and we would competitively count which bush had more roses (Mine did of course!). This was a great gift! It added such color to the house. Then one wintery day, the bushes were gone! It was the equivalent to finding your favorite horse’s head in your bed! I was devastated! Did this mean gong-gong and po-po didn’t like me anymore? I mean, why else would you destroy such a lovely gift? Later, I learned that in order for the rose bush to grow even more roses next year, you had to prune the bushes during the winter time. So, I still had my grand parents’ love, which really, was all that mattered…. Plus the red envelopes I got every New Years, but that’s a different story.

So why am I telling you this tale? Didn’t I promise you this wasn’t going to be a mushy blog about my past and how it made me who I am (a homicidal writer)? Nope, don’t worry, there’s a biblical application to this story. Stay tuned next time to find out what! Or not. Whatever, it’s up to you. …But no, seriously, come back.