Inman Square, Somerville: Home of the Rose Killer

First off, I'm having a conceptual issue with the fact that starting a post with "Somerville:" could initially imply that I am either that hilarious Amy or the considerably more sedate me (Raquel). So, until I think of something better, I'm "Inman Square." How's that work for you?

Regarding roses

When I think of "finicky" plants, I think of orchids. And roses. And souffles, but that's only because my brain doesn't work properly. I'm used to buying spectacular orchids, coaxed to health and beauty by someone in a lovely greenhouse, and then tending to their withered, half-dead convalescence for years. These experiments always end up on the inside of a Glad bag. Like people who can keep orchids blooming, rose gardeners seem to know a lot more than I do. In their case, about coffee grounds, and banana peels, and pruning. That last one appears to be where I went wrong.

A few weeks ago, I had a pretty handsome rose bush in my back yard. But it was getting a little big for its britches and I had terrible daymares of it engulfing the whole yard and Justin and I being found years from now in some prickly, Grey Gardens thicket, surrounded by ten-foot mountains of cat food cans. So I pruned that poor thing, and I pruned it hard. And now it looks like this:

It used to look like this:

Until I did this:

So the current question is whether the bush has just run its course for the season, or whether I actively killed it.

Regarding radishes

Check em out! I only planted these last Saturday, and here's how they looked on Tuesday:

Kind of amazing, right? Now I just need HMS Killick to get on here and tell me what to do with them.

The tomatoes are doing well:

Black Cherry Heirlooms

Celebrity heirlooms

Regardin' gardens

This is what my husband, Justin, thinks we should have named this blog. And he will not SHUT UP about it.