At some point last year or the year prior, I honestly cannot remember which any longer, ‘we’ removed all but one of our abusive rose bushes. I didn’t like spending much time around them because although they smelled heavenly, they left me with significant scars after I’d make careful attempts at pruning them back and severing their thorny limbs. In place of the rose bushes ‘we’ removed, I planted a number of plants typically found in a xeriscape garden. The lone survivor of the rose bush massacre, the white rose bush, seemed so out of place amongst all of the newly planted, drought tolerant ground cover and shrubs, that I couldn’t help but pick up another (miniature) rose bush to keep it company. It was pretty puny and sick at first (since I bought it off the clearance rack at Lowe’s), but now it’s as healthy as ever, nearly two feet tall in height, and covered with the most beautifully scented, tiny, delicate roses.
*When I say ‘we’, I’m referring to my husband. 🙂
My entire family is insane. 
Indeed, that rose bush is just lovely! Hmm, and I know that ‘we’ all too well … it happens in our house as well 😅.
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