Under Construction

There's a loooong strip of dug-up turf running along our front yard today. It's festooned with itty-bitty little flags to mark where sprinkler lines will go.

It's the start of a rose garden!

We're putting in about 90 linear feet of roses, planted on both sides of a classic white picket fence. The fence will enclose the front yard, so the pugs can safely play outside, while we sit on the front porch and admire the roses. And gather the roses. And inhale the perfume from the roses. And try to figure out how we're going to pay for all these roses!

Can you see it yet?
Little picket fence. Perfumed roses in shades of pink, lavender, white, and pale yellow. Underneath, Russian lavender, Liriope, and Peter Pan Agapanthus to hide the rose "legs." Because rose bushes don't have nice pegs--they're kinda spindly and unattractive. But their blooms more than make up for their bottoms.

*Sigh.* I can't wait!

We're guesstimating this strip of land can hold about 50 rose bushes, staggered on both sides of the fence so they can all be admired at once, from either the street or the front porch.

This little bit going up to the front door will also sport roses. It was completely obliterated by a grotesque, overly-large rosemary bush. No cook can be without fresh rosemary, though, so I'll replant some in a pot this time, so it can't take over the strip:

This is Ole. As in, the Spanish cheer, not the Norwegian lumberjack. He's safely tucked in another part of the front yard. Just wanted to show him off a bit; when most of my other current roses are going kaput, he just keeps churning out the blossoms. Good little guy!:

Down on my knees to photograph Ole, I notice some moss growing in a crack in the bricks. So sweet! Moss is one of those things that gardeners try like crazy to grow, employing all sorts of tricks using buttermilk, blenders, and paint brushes. Moss only grows where it wants to, and usually when your back is turned. Its shyness makes it all the more adorable:

And speaking of shy...

The first violet of the season! They usually don't start popping up until January, but I guess this little fellow wanted to get a jump start on things:

Or maybe he wanted to know what all the digging was about.