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Dr. Leda's Rose Journal |
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Hit the Road, Jack: The Brutal Art of Shovel Pruning
Make a new plan, Stan! Dr. Leda has the scoop on how to dump a loser...
By Dr. Leda Horticulture, O. R.
February, 2004
Let's face it: sometimes things just don't work out. You start off with the highest hopes, the best laid plans, the noblest intentions, the most beautiful dreams. But somewhere along the way, something goes wrong. You begin to feel let down and disappointed, apathetic and strangely depressed. Deep in your heart, you know it's time to call it quits.
And yet, it's so hard to let go! You don't want to give up those fantasies of a perfect life together. You can't bear to face the gaping hole that saying good-bye will leave in your life. You're not convinced that anything better will ever come along, and anyway you dread the work involved in starting all over. Above all, you're wracked with guilt...
'Tis Sad, But True
All too soon, our bareroot rose season has come to a close. if there's any room left in your garden, now is the time. We turn off the Shop 'Til You Drop sign Sunday evening, February 8th. Less than 48 hours left to buy those final, choice roses! Thanks for all your support this season!
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Hold on. Let's stop right here for a minute and tighten our tether to reality.
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| Dr. Leda dons her long black veil and grabs her shovel. |
First, we're talking about roses. A rose bush is not an actual spouse. At best, it was a blind date. You weren't really committed. You never promised to live with the thing in sickness and in health until whichever one of you keeled over first. No matter how infatuated you were when you planted it, no vows were taken, no binding contracts signed. When the time comes for the two of you to part ways, there will be no legal consequences. You will not have to pay alimony for the rest of your life, nor will you be indicted on charges of first degree murder.
Second, a rose bush does not have neurons and therefore does not feel pain. There
will be no blood curdling Edvard Munschian primal scream when you rip it out
by the roots...not from the rose, anyway (wear gloves!). I confess I have some
issues around this myself, as I've always had a tendency to anthropomorphize
everything in sight. When I was a child, I named all my toothbrushes and wept
bitterly each time my mother threw one away. But, as the strange-looking Swedish
Ikea man says, that is because I
am crazy. Don't let it happen to you.
Now, let's review some of
the Frequently Asked Questions about shovel pruning.
Q: What does it
mean to "shovel prune" a rose?
A: It means you look the rose in the
eye and you say, "Hey, nothing personal, it's just business." (Or maybe, "Honest,
honey, it's not you, it's me; I just need some time to think.") Then you
pick up your shovel and pull the trigger, and that's that. The unsatisfactory
rose
goes to sleep with the fishes. Capisci? If you can't bring yourself to
kill it, just give it to your mother-in-law.
Q: When is the best time to shovel prune a rose?
A: Some schools of thought think you should give a rose several years to prove itself: "First year sleeps, second year creeps, third year leaps." Other schools of thought think you should inflict capital punishment the minute a rose starts to seriously get on your nerves. Most people tend to be a bit more trigger-happy when they're running out of room for new roses. It's really up to you.
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| Battling with Cujo |
Q: How can I tell whether I should shovel prune a particular rose?
A: Always remember, there are no bad roses. There's only the wrong rose in the wrong climate or the wrong place for the wrong person in the wrong mood at the wrong time.
That said, let's look at ten examples of roses that are prime candidates for shovel pruning:
- The Jolly Green Giant - All the books swore this rose would be a compact three-foot shrub, yet it takes up more space than a 20-piece mariachi band. All the books swore this rose was an excellent rebloomer, yet you haven't seen a flower since Jesus left Chicago. You find yourself swearing more than the books.
- The Petri Dish - So many gross micro-organisms flourish and fester and ooze on this rose that the CDC is sending a team in haz-mat suits to place it under quarantine. Make sure your vaccinations are up to date before you go near it.
- The Anesthesiologist - The rose that's so boring it puts you to sleep.
- The Agoraphobe - The rose that dissolves in hysterics whenever it's forced to leave the greenhouse.
-
The Mail Order Bride - You thought you clicked on Jessica Simpson, but somehow you ended up with Eleanor Roosevelt in your shopping cart. Gee, you think maybe those photos were touched up just the teeniest bit?
Tear out that stem, Clem... - The Cujo - This vicious and highly aggressive rose has repeatedly tried to rip off your arm, put out your eye, or maybe even slit your throat. It's had your poor husband cornered in the back of the tool shed since last Tuesday. Time to rent a Bush Hog and show the beast who's boss.
- The Ebenezer Scrooge - This stingy old thing makes you work your fingers to the bone, yet payday never seems to roll around. Just say bah, humbug!
- The Dorian Gray - Here's a rose that never seems to age. Year after year photographs of it appear to grow fuller and lusher and more magnificently mature than ever, but the actual plant just sits there looking exactly like the pathetic little bundle of twigs it was the day you planted it. Ask yourself: what's wrong with this picture?
- The Gregor Samsa - One morning an ordinary rose woke up and discovered that during the night it had metamorphosed into a hideous insect, a gigantic cockroach, a monstrous vermin. This ugly thing must be exterminated!
- The Norwegian Blue - How much longer are you going to pretend this moribund bush is just pining for the fjords? Maybe it's time for you to wake up, Polly. In the immortal words of John Cleese, "I'll tell you what's wrong with 'im: 'e's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory!" Face it, there's never going to be a better time to dig and toss.
In the final analysis, life is too short, yards are too small, and there are too many wonderful roses out there to waste time on any rose that doesn't make your heart dance the Macarena with joy. So don't be afraid to grab that shovel! No need to be sad, Brad; just dig up the dirt, Kurt; rip out the roots, Toots; and get yourself a rose that makes you happy instead.
