The Rose Queens

I love plants. I love how they are beautiful and green and alive-looking. I love how they depend on me and gently insist that I take care of at least them every morning (when the stars align to assign me fourteen hour days at CERN, the temptation to neglect my living space grows to proportions that would shock my mother). I love how when their basic needs are met, they flourish and repay me with all sorts of nice things, including strawberries and fresh herbs and flowers. But I think the miniature roses reign as queens of my little balcony garden.

I rescued my four miniature roses at the beginning of March. It was NOT spring yet, but the local grocery store had started carrying some spring plants, miniature roses among them. I was there picking up some pastries to celebrate having successfully found and taken possession of my apartment when I caught sight of the poor rose choking in a plastic collar and drying out in its little pot. Having had several miniature roses, I could not resist this one's plight. It joined my purchases and came home with me.

When I removed the double layers of plastic wrapping, I made two discoveries. First, that plastic wrapping really had been choking the plant; most of the leaves on the bottom two-thirds of the canes were in the process of falling off. Second, there were four plants in there, some so little that they had been completely scalped by the leaf attrition. Clearly, these plants would not be winning beauty contests any time soon.


But in my experience, roses are effectively indestructible (even when not pretty enough to win contests or inspire poetry) when given their basic needs: direct sunlight, well drained soil, lots of water, and lots of air. Weather-wise, Geneva was channeling the Arctic at the time, so for the interim they sat in a tupperware container in my window. When spring really got here, I repotted the lot and moved them out to my balcony.

They seemed quite happy about their change in fortunes. I even noticed buds reappearing in the profusion of leaves.

I also noticed white, powdery stuff on the leaves. I thought it was just my hard-as-granite water at first, but it spread.

This appears to be my first case of powdery mildew, which I'm informed is a fairly common rose pest. Apparently, my roses are not getting the sun or air circulation they need. I can't do much about the sun right now, but I can address the other issue. The treatment begins with a fungicidal spray. When I get time to haul another 20 liters of potting soil back to my apartment, though, two of these beauties are getting transplanted.