We used to work in Peter's garden, not just the lawn..as Peter lost mobility, we did all the gardening including gathering fruit crops...apples, pears, plums, blackberries and raspberries... plus Japanese Quinces.
Initially I had started there as a house cleaner...but Peter said"you would rather be out in the garden, wouldn't you?"!
Another part of the job was just talking..and we learnt much of Peter's history...
His grandfather was from Sixpenny Handley, a village in Dorset..and was orphaned when his father was killed by a runaway cart.
This grandfather went to Kew as a boy apprentice and finished as one of the head gardeners there. Ninety years ago, when Peter was a small boy his grandfather took him to one of the nurseries of a rose grower and breeder and gave him a rose marked "lost label" . What this meant that it hadn't come up to the standard required! It is vigorous and floriferous, but has hardly any perfume.
Everywhere Peter lived, he took a cutting and grew this rose again. In his last garden it had grown to the top of a telegraph pole that held local phone cables! He told me to take cuttings when he became more frail...and here it is.
A further note...I was born in Micheldever in Hampshire, in the end cottage of a row of three thatched cottages.
The railway station is two miles away from the village...and when I was being born, Peter was lodging in the farm by the station....
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Fascinating, especially the last part.
Great story of Peter, the rose, and you coming along while he lived nearby!
...neat, a rose with a history.
I love the history of the rose I do hope you take lots of cuttings and give them away with the story.
We have a buddlea that originally came from my friends fathers garden. Another friend asked for a cutting and grew it in her garden. Then I got a cutting and it’s growing in my garden. I’ve taken cuttings and I’ll plant more around the place.
Her fathers has since passed but he lives on in our gardens
Very interesting history! That is lovely that you have one of his roses. Some of my peonies were my mother’s. -Jenn
Peter lived at a very different time.
What a lovely story... and a beautiful rose.
Hari Om
True living history. YAM xx
We have Rose's my dad bought us before he died. I always think of him when it flowers.
“Lost label”—how wonderful he saved it—and now you have it—and how wonderful he saw you would rather be outside…
Peter was perspicacious! 😊
A rose with a lovely history and story. The soft pink is beautiful. The rose is a nice reminder of Peter.
That's a great story. That must still be a rather rare rose, despite him planting cuttings of it here and there.
Remember when Dave and I went to Micheldever last year? I still can't believe you were born there. What are the odds?!
What a fabulous rose, and a great history behind it.
I love things that come with their own story. Your rose is special.
So does your birthplace mean you're really English and not a Scottish lass at all?
A Celtic mongrel,Cat...mainly London Irish, quite a bit of Kent which apparently has French in it (no surprise there!)
Dad was told he was London Welsh ...so I moved to Wales and spent 40 years using Welsh as my first language..life has funny twists and turns
Yn wir y mae. And no I don't speak Welsh. That's a phrase Google Translate gave me! :)
Gosh he was fortunate to get a job at Kew, I'd love to visit that place. Your friend would have alot of stories to tell.
Auntie Google isn't too far off..Mae'n wir.... it is true..
I know Sixpenny Handly, and being a Hampshire lass myself, know Micheldever too, but by name only. We had a rose which I was talking abut only last night. It came from a cutting from the estate gardens at Gelli Aur. Vigorous was an understatement! It had to be cut back hard every year or the house would have been like Sleeping Beauty's in a few years! I think it was a Banksia rose.
How amazing to have worked at Kew all those years ago. "Lost Label" rose has given such a wonderful connection to the past.
Oh my gosh that is a coincidence. I'm glad you're keeping the rose going. I wonder if anyone ever found out what it was called!
Jenny , because it didn't come up to scratch as it lacks perfume, it never had a name.. probably just a number
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