It is the Labor Day holiday weekend, no work on Monday. In homage to the "labor" bit of Labor Day, I got up early to do sheet washing, cabinet wipe downs, followed by supervising the kids in the pool.
My rose bushes are mere feet from the pool, and in classic feminine multi-tasking syndrome, I thought to dead-head them, pull weeds from around their bases, and clip out any bad/diseased places.
They are Knock-out Roses. Lovely shade of hyper pink that bloom 8 months out of the year. As I worked I reflected on the fact that rose bushes, and their care, are a metaphor for life. Dead heads that are removed, fading older blooms replaced continually by new, tightly wrapped buds. Unseen thorns that prick and scratch at soft flesh. They grow better each new season with a bit of pruning and one must keep vigilant for pests and fungus while providing the right amount of water and fertilizer. But the end result is worth all the effort and work.