A Trip to Ego-Land

ProfessorRoush would like to apologize, in advance, for this brief detour into a landscape populated only by ego and self-indulgence.  Normally immune to the frequent and seemingly random solicitations from internet phishers, I was nonetheless unable to resist further exploring the email below, if only to find out exactly where and why Garden Musings placed in the "Top 15 Kansas Gardening Blogs".   I was hooked, caught and reeled in, and further enticed to actually post the "badge" at the right, simply when I saw that I was 2nd (!) on a list headed by the Dyck Arboretum Blog (Dyck is a 13 acre arboretum in Hesston, Kansas).  I view the latter as prestigious company to my measly efforts!  You can view the list yourself, here.

The email:

The "panelist" referenced here is undoubtedly a computer search engine devoid of any aesthetic senses and, okay, yes, it's an obvious ploy to get me to subscribe to this feed engine and to advertise on it, all, of course, for a minimal monthly fee.  Well, flattered as I am, there is little chance of that, but I was quite happy to see that there was, in fact, some sort of system present for the selection.   For some, like the Dyck Arboretum Blog, it seemed to be due to its social media following on Facebook and Instagram, but also because of something called "domain authority."  A simple search revealed that "Domain Authority (DA) is a score, ranging from 1 to 100, developed by Moz (a popular SEO tool and company) that predicts how likely a website is to rank on search engine result pages (SERPs)." A higher DA score indicates a greater potential for a website to rank higher in search results. It's essentially a measure of the website's overall authority and credibility in its specific industry or niche.  For reference, Dyck's domain authority is 38, Garden Musings is 27.  

I was also pleased to find my reader and fellow blogger Brother Placidus, at The Cloister Garden, was also on the Top 15 list. FeedSpot is obviously a discerning business with excellent literary tastes!  Unfortunately for them, their effective appeal to my vanity did not change my motivation or plans for this blog.  It was never intended to make me rich or popular or famous, but is simply an exercise in mental health maintenance by someone who sees writing as an outlet.  The unexpected recognition, however, still lifted my spirits, so this blog entry is credit for their efforts!         

This weekend, I promise I'll set vanity aside again and try to meet your expectations for a short foray into a subject that is actually, you know, garden-related.

Secrets in Transition

ProfessorRoush has been harboring a secret for over a month now, but I'm too excited to keep it any longer.  If I pass it on, do you promise not to tell?  Swear? Pinky swear?  Cross your heart and hope to die? Stick a needle in....oh, whatever?   I just have to tell it anyway or I'll burst.

Recognize the rose pictured at the top right?   That's 'Lillian Gibson', in all her moods and phases from bud to petal fall.   I've written about her before here, and here, but as a mature lady this year, at 14 years old in my garden, she's still completely gorgeous.  And believe it or not, the weed-choked, neglected orphan  pictured on the left, as captured in a snapshot on 5/18/2025, one month after she started blooming, is the worst she has looked in 10 years!  If you only knew what she has survived in the last two years to get here: a random trimming this Spring to keep her from sprawling over the grass and an adjacent fire last year to burn out a pack rat nest in the clematis next to her.  Iron-clad, she has also been steadfast through winter ice storms and summer droughts, survived Japanese Beetles, and seems to be completely resistant to blackspot, mildew, and Rose Rosette Disease.

05/04/2025

Anyway, my secret is that while I was randomly hacking away at this vigorous but almost-thornless rose, I potted up some of the hardwood to try to propagate it.  I'm terrible at propagation, so I made eleven pots, some with three trimmings, hoping I could get at least one survivor.  At one week, on May 4th, in a sunny basement window, completely enclosed in a large clear tub to maintain humidity, the 11 pots looked promising to my eyes and in the photo to the right.   

To my eternal delight and astonishment, at 4 weeks post-potting, on May 22nd, they've all rooted and put out new growth!  The few yellow leaves are warning me they need sunshine and more fresh air if they're going to make it.    We've still got a long way to go, these little rose children and I, because I've tried and failed miserably before, with this exact rose, among others.  I started the transition to less humidity yesterday by slowly decreasing the lid coverage, and, if all goes well, next week I'll transplant them into large pots and move them outdoors under a tree with dappled shade.  

05/23/2025

'Lillian Gibson' 05/08/2025

If they survive to September, I'll provide one to the K-State Garden and others to friends, anyone in my sphere who has room for an 8 foot wide sprawling semi-climber, and I'll plant another one or two myself here for "insurance."  I'm helping preserve history here by prorogating this historic Hybrid Blanda rose, introduced in 1938 by Neils Ebbesen Hansen.  Besides, 'Lillian Gibson' has become my nearly favorite rose and I never want to chance losing her myself!   

Canadian John Cabot

I do have a few "new" roses to share this year; roses that have survived a couple of winter seasons and seem to be reaching their mature growth.   I placed the "new" in quotes because they are new roses to me, but, of course, have been commercially available for some time.

It is my pleasure to introduce you to 'John Cabot', introduced by Ag Canada in 1977 according to helpmefind/roses, although other sources say its introduction was in 1978).  Bred by Dr. Felicitas Svejda in 1969, this rose was named after an Italian navigator and explorer (his English name was John Cabot, but he was known as Giovanni Caboto in Italy), who, in 1497, crossed the formidable Atlantic Ocean to the New World and was the first European to reach Newfoundland since the Vikings.

The 'John Cabot' of my acquaintance is a gangly, thorny, sprawling mass of a rose, with some disheveled pink-red blossoms that open quickly to their 3-inch diameter forms in clusters on short stems.  Many petals have a central white streak and, in that way, the rose reminds me of a smaller 'William Baffin'.   Although described to have "mild fragrance" in the entry by helpmefind/roses, I detect no hint of fragrance in the flowers of my specimen.  My 'John Cabot' only bloomed once last year, in June, although it is said to have sporadic rebloom in late summer.  

A Hybrid Kordesii, 'John Cabot' ((Rosa kordesii Wulff x (Masquerade x Rosa laxa)) is said to be hardy to Zone 2B.   He certainly is solidly cane-hardy in winter here in Zone 5, with absolutely no dieback in the past two seasons. and has suffered no blackspot or mildew on his light green, matte foliage. He is also growing in a site where I lost the rambler 'America' to Rose Rosette Disease, but shows no signs of that monstrous disease yet.  At three years of age in my garden, the arching canes top out around 5 feet tall, and the rose has a tendency to grab whatever is passing by. 

In Hardy Roses, Robert Osborne stated that 'John Cabot' is "one of the most important new roses for northern gardens" and that he first saw it labeled as "seedling L07."  Released as a climber, I will prune and grow it as a shrub and try my best to keep it looking less "wild."  

If, as you read this blog entry, you feel that I'm not that fond of 'John Cabot', you are correct.  While I don't despise the rose, it has few exceptional qualities for me to favor.   It IS hardy, healthy, and needs little nurturing to provide a bounty of color in its season, however, so it has earned my attention in the garden, and, as you can see on the right photo taken just after sunrise last Friday, its jarring bright pink color makes it a standout even on a cloudy day.  

Magic Morning Musings

He almost didn't do it.   Yesterday was ProfessorRoush's 66th birthday, and it was packed so busy that, at first, he nearly didn't notice the world outside.   It was Commencement day at the College, and I had time for only a full day of work, graduation ceremony, receptions, and plans.  I woke early, too early, checked in online for the news and was heading for the shower when I realized that it was light outside and the sky through the skylights was PINK.  Already starting later than I planned, I hesitated and debated and shut down the Critic and the urgencies of the day and listened, for once, to the voices that I so often ignore.  

The voices I heeded were the Writer & the Photographer & the Philosopher, all in agreement and demanding that the call to go outside could not be ignored.  The Writer anticipates and collects and records special moments in the garden.  The Photographer understands the magic of diffused morning light and demands its capture. And the Philosopher always advocates for the feel of a fresh breeze on still-sleepy skin, and clean air filling the lungs and the waking sounds of life across the crisp, cool prairie.

Oh, what awaited!  As the sun barely broke the horizon, my senses were bombarded with life and all the promise of a new day.  The pink and oranges were quickly receding from the sky as the sun rose and I took these pictures all within a few brief minutes, catching the roses opening to the kiss of sunlight, before the low clouds could steal the magic and drain away the last of the colors.  

The act of garden photography, of itself, is an invitation to morning meditation and especially helpful to hyperactive and time-driven unfortunates like myself.  Hold perfectly still.  Calm your breathing and heartbeat. Frame the subject. Check the edges.  Focus.  Check the background.  Adjust depth of field. Look for distractions in the viewer.  Make sure vertical and horizontal lines in the photo are squared up.  Take the photo.   Assess and start again, breaths slowing, heartbeat dropping, soul quiet.  And the result?  Not a single photo here is cropped or enhanced or edited in any way, their natural beauty on full display.  There are rewards for a detail-oriented psyche.

I hesitated again, feeling the pull of the Critic, knowing I should be moving on, but I listened instead to the Artist insisting that I take just a few more seconds to capture the sunlight on the colorful irises. Had I not, I would never have experienced the moment and joy captured by this photograph and never felt the impertinence of the brave, brooding, deep purple bloom on the left or the cheerfulness of the yellow irises in the center.

Listen to the Voices my friends, not the voices of Schedule or Despair, not the misdirected urgings of Greed or Vice, but the wisdom of the Child, the passion of the Lover, and the vision of the Faithful.  Life gives us few enough gifts and we must cherish and recognize and grasp those we are given with our hands and hearts and minds and hold on to them in memory and gratitude.   

And I'm forever grateful for these captured moments, on this, my 66th birthday.