Eight years ago, I planted two tiny climbing miniature rose bushes. I asked my husband to build a trellis for them to climb. I told him the trellis needed to be higher than the fence.
He told me I was being very optimistic. One of the bushes had yellow roses, and the other had white. The yellow blooms are much more miniature than the white, even though they are both the same variety of bush.
I'll admit that sometimes an optimist can be disappointed, but normally, an optimist makes the best of the disappointment. When the yellow bush bloomed, I was a little disappointed in the roses it produced -- nothing worth cutting, but I did love how pretty it looked with the yellow blooms all over it. Then, the white bush bloomed, and the roses were wonderful, and I loved the mixture of the tiny yellow roses and the larger white roses.
As you can see, I wasn't overly optimistic. The bushes long ago passed the height of the trellis, and they've covered the light pole in beauty. (I keep thinking the electric company is going to start wacking the bushes.)
Yes, I am an optimist, and I think I'll remain an optimist. Sometimes, it is disappointing, but when my optimism is warranted, it is so worth it.
I call these rose bushes "the little bushes that could".
I think I can, I think I can, I think they did! Thank you for stopping in to visit.
This post is partying with Met Monday at Between Naps on the Porch, Something to Talk About at 2 Bees in a Pod, Inspire Me Tuesday at A Stroll Thru Life, Tweak it Tuesday at Cozy Little House, and You’re Gonna Love It Tuesday at Kathe with an E