Rosebuds and Q-Tips

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Posted by @CindiKS on
Newby Impressions of a District Rose Show

In my dream, I’m in a sumptuous ballroom at an elegant hotel. I’m alone in the room and surrounded on all sides by perfectly formed roses of every size and color. Along the walls, I see stunning arrangements of roses, artwork, driftwood, metals, water, and textiles. Each has a tag naming the roses.

I wander through a door to another room, a quiet room, but one crowded with people, carts, tables, trash cans, and tools. People of all ages are working with the intensity of a microsurgeon. Their tools are odd: Some are delicately placing Q-tips inside rosebuds to gently rearrange petals, others are carefully trimming brown spots with tiny scalpels and tweezers. I hear a blow dryer, and see another rosarian coaxing a tight bud to open just a tad. Voices are hushed; this is serious business.

One man sorts through a bucket of nearly identical roses. He tells me he grows five ‘Touch of Class’ rose bushes and hopes to have three blooms perfect enough to enter. To my novice's eye, every rose in the bucket is beyond perfect. He gestures toward another man in the room who has used a luggage cart to bring his roses in from his cargo trailer. I gasp at the quantity and variety the man is unloading. He has driven all night to get here, having cut the roses late last night, just as storms moved across our region.

A crashing glass vase startles me and I realize this incredible sight is no dream. I’m living my fantasy! This much beauty in one place is truly overwhelming, and my mind struggles to take it all in.

My own roses, like others in our area, lie in tatters from a recent hailstorm. Because of this, most of the roses in this show come from outside our city. We are the hosts for the Central District Rose Show, having prepared for this event for two years. Only a few of our club members are serious exhibition growers, but many of us had been looking forward to showing our flowers. The bad luck that has limited our involvement now allows us time to watch and learn from very experienced growers.

My job is to “clerk,” which means thatI follow the judges as they evaluate each rose. My group is evaluating floribundas and miniature roses. I listen carefully as each rose is discussed. Judges search intently to find a flaw within the bloom in order to deduct points. Each rose is competing first with roses of the same name. For example, there are four vases of ‘Miss Flippins.’ One will be chosen as the best. It has a high enough score that it will later compete with ‘Joy’ and other miniatures for the Gold Queen award. I am happy to see that many of the eventual winners are roses that I grow. At least they have the same names as mine. I have a lot of work to do before my roses look as gorgeous as any of these.

The judging process takes several hours; no speck or “blown” blossom or nibbled stem is overlooked. My untrained eye catches a very unfortunate faux pas—a forgotten Q-tip still in a bloom! My job is to punch holes in entry tags, lay out colored ribbons and, most importantly, keep my mouth shut. No easy task, that last part. Others in the club are greeting guests, taking vases to the ballroom, and working with the caterers to make sure the banquet runs smoothly.

Once the judges finish, the show is opened to the public. Some exhibitors cheer upon finding blue ribbons on their roses, others restrain themselves and smile politely. Spectators gasp and point, and gardeners like me walk through and make lists of the roses that we NEED to have. After listening to the judges discuss the mini roses, I decide I need to grow more of that class. Most spectators make a beeline for the hybrid tea tables and then for the arrangements. The floribundas and species roses appear almost messy in comparison to the hybrid teas, but I know that in my garden, the floribundas will win the show.

Show day concludes with a lively evening banquet and auction. I find myself scribbling more notes on a napkin as an exhibitor at my table talks about red roses that don’t fade. There’s so much to learn, and I’m in a room full of rose gurus! The next show dates and locations are entered into my phone, as I’ve decided that this is beauty that I want to experience over and over. Tomorrow, I’ll be calling friends to tell them they missed out.

That night, I dream of roses. Row after row of perfectly grown roses, their long stems reaching up to me, as I walk by in my garden. I know it’s a dream, a fantasy for me, but I enjoy the view just the same.


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Comments and Discussion
Thread Title Last Reply Replies
Delightful! by woofie Feb 8, 2014 9:16 PM 8

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