Rose pruning does not continue. It's on hold. I did get out there this morning before today's storm arrived and put two new roses into the ground. They were imprisoned in the garage in a plastic bag, sprouting new growth and crying for the glory of the sun and the life-giving earth. I believe I might have heard their tiny cries somehow, there in the dark. It is pure cruelty to have them miss all this beautiful rain, so I was determined to plant them before the rain returned. The soil is nowhere near saturated. If it was, I could not plant roses with a good conscience. It is not good to plant in sodden mud. But after four years of drought, an inch below the surface, the soil is barely moist, despite four inches of rain over the past few days.
I removed two not overly happy camellias: a japonica ('Snow-Chan') and a very sad sasanqua. The japonica would get a second chance in a large pot destined for the patio, where I think it will be happier than the spot it had in too much sun. I collected the pot, the potting soils, and 'Snow-Chan'.
Can't plant it. The pot does not have sufficient drainage holes for a Camellia.
Call subroutine. I got the drill out and slipped in a paddle bit (the best bit for drilling plastic). Can't drill. The battery pack was out of power.
Call subroutine. Get the recharger and plug it in and get the battery recharging, while the sky swelled black with cloud.
Then I went to plant 'Easy Does It' in the Camellia's old spot and couldn't do it. There was a Geranium 'Rozanne' a bit too close to the chosen spot.
Call subroutine. I happened to need another Geranium 'Rozanne' out front, so I dug up 'Rozanne' and took it out front to plant it the chosen spot. Couldn't do it. There was a Hemerocallis, 'Clothed In Glory' a bit too close to the chosen spot.
Call subroutine. I dug up the Hemerocalllis and moved it a bit. Good.
Return to calling function. Now 'Rozanne' can go in. Good.
Return to calling function. Now 'Easy Does It' can go in. Good.
Return to calling function. Now the battery is recharged. Good.
Return to calling function. Now the holes are drilled and 'Snow-Chan' is in her well-drained pot, and there is 2 inches of mud on the soles of my shoes and speckled dots of rain upon the concrete.
The other rose, 'Firefighter', aka 'Red N' Fragrant', aka 'Hacienda', goes into an empty space next to my other copy of 'Firefighter'. This has been my absolute favorite rose of the past two years. Great productivity, sweet delicious fragrance that lasts, superior rust resistance. Also beautiful.
Rain will water the Camellia in, the Hemerocallis, the Geranium, and the two roses, now freed from their plastic prison in the dark. The rain will clean the potting mix off of everything it shouldn't be on, including my nose. And wash away the muddy trail my clomping mudwad shoes left, too.
The sasanqua, forgive me, went into the trash. It had just finished blooming.
I've noticed that any project, work or otherwise, is rarely straighforward (gardening of course is not "work"). You set out to do "A". But before you can do "A" properly, you must first do "B", but before you can do "B", you absolutely have to do "C", and so on, and on, for a while. You have to keep calling those subroutines, then you have to back your way out of them, keeping your mind firmly focused on accomplishing "A". I'm sure it is the same way for distributing aid after an earthquake. There's a lot of stuff you have to do in order to do the thing you need to do. You have to stay focused and keep at it.
Now it's raining again.