Three Dollars I’ll Never See Again

Last summer, a few weeks before I moved into the dollhouse, I bought rosebushes at Canadian Tire. Cue the cringing by dedicated gardeners everywhere. I realize that I could have gone to a real greenhouse, a trusted merchant of green and growing things, to buy my roses. Generally speaking, I kill more plants than Roundup, so I’m not interested in paying a premium at fancy pants greenhouses.

Instead I snagged a heck of a good deal at Canadian Tire. I paid three dollars for one bush and a mere 100 Canadian pennies for the second. Like I said, I am a bargain shopper, and I have a funny sense about where to get the best deals.

My poor little rose bushes had to wait almost a month before I got around to planting them. They baked in the sun. They were swamped in the heavy rains that showed up in early August. I finally got them into the flower bed, skeletal and sad, and within weeks, they did this:

Not bad for three dollars.

I felt pretty darn proud of myself. Those little cheapo rose bushes bloomed loonie-sized flowers until the weather got too cold and they were forced to pull in their colours until the next growing season. Being my little inexperienced self, I figured my work was done.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of my very busy brain was the knowledge that rosebushes need to be covered for the winter. I think that tidbit of information was hidden under my plans for buying winter tires and my attempts to juggle all the literature I was teaching at that moment in time. The first heavy snow showed up without an invitation, and truly, way earlier than anticipated, and my poor rose buses were buried.

I have been waiting for weeks now to see signs of life from my poor roses. Thus far, they resemble kindling for the fireplace. Their appearance is made additionally depressing by the fresh, perky appearance of the turd nugget dandelions that are popping up around them.

My lilac tree is starting to bud (wahoo!). My grass is greening up. In the nicest part of my little dollhouse garden, two rosebush carcasses poke crisply up from the soil; they make me feel a little guilty. I’m going to give them a few more weeks, and then I’ll start shopping Canadian Tire for the next great deal. While I’m there, maybe I’ll invest in a little burlap.

copyright 2011:

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