blackberries for breakfast

Not quite enough of a crop yet for a full bowl, so I filled in the gaps with whitecurrants. Eaten while sitting on the front porch watching the sun push up over the roofs across the street. Inside the kitchen, two fruit dehydrators buzzing along, full of apples.
Yes, it must be summer. Time for rose pictures!


A bud of Sir Clough, deep pink at first. They pale somewhat as they open. Nothing from the Blanc Double this year, but a bud on the Rosearie de la Haye, which is nice. I've been watering more in July to make up for the heat, and for overhanging city tree that pretty much covers the front yard, keeping both sun and rain off the front garden.



I think this might be Henry Hudson, but I'll have to look it up to be sure. The three bushes in the corner are so intermingled and overgrown that it takes careful tracing back of the vine or cane to establish the origin of any one flower.
Been cutting out the dead wood, but this year I'll have to do serious pruning. I quail. I hate cutting live wood. It seems so wasteful.



The Quatre Saisons damask in the back yard. I missed this blossom entirely, so it's a good thing Mark was watching.
I was distracted by the Overwhelming Albas overwhelming the garage.
Now that it's had a year of growing upright in a trellis, I suppose I should get down to pruning and training it properly.