I sat on my porch this morning with my cup of tea and a heady aroma washed over me. Never having any luck with growing roses I knew it could only mean one thing. My antique rose bush was blooming! I went outside of the fence to the front of the house and there it was, in full bloom. Our farmhouse is 235 years old and tucked all over the property are an assortment of antique roses. I do not know how old they are but I have around 4 varieties. White with a single petal, white with a cabbage rose petal and the same with soft pink. The aroma is like no rose you have ever had the pleasure of inhaling. They do not last long so I keep my eyes open to see when they bloom, which is at all different times of the summer. They are sometimes hidden under other bushes in the back but they manage to pop their heads through and give me a show. I have tried to dig a piece up but the roots are endless. I will just enjoy them where they are, after all they have probably been there over 100 years.