'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself.
Every day for the last week I've walked past the Blue Girl rosebush in my front yard and felt a little ashamed that I let it be taken over by morning glory vines -- it was bent horizontal. I didn't worry too much as I thought that since it was October the bush was done for the season anyway. And then I noticed a full bud shooting up and I kept my eye out. Even with the cold nights this last week, this bud burst into full, gorgeous bloom a few days ago and I was amazed at its beauty. It is actually the most beautiful bloom I had all year. The flowers on this bush tend to burst open then quickly become overblown and limp. If only I could embed some sort of smell-o-rama widget -- this rose has the most fragrant, intoxicating scent of any rose, maybe any flower (second only to the deliciously peppery freesia, in my book). In other words, best rose ever. I am a lazy, neglectful gardener and this bush comes back year after year (whether I remember to cut it back or not) and produces copious blooms each time. I haven't even mentioned the exquisite silvery blue lavender color which I fell in love with. If you're going to plant a rose, get this one.
Even though I woke up with a headache and am quite allergic to flowers, I couldn't help cutting this one and bringing it inside. It smells so good I keep pressing it to my nose, despite the fact that I begin sneezing. That's what Claritin is for anyway, right?
Because the rose made me think of it, today may be the day to dig out my copy of "Romeo and Juliet" for my annual reading.