Oh, the yellow rose of Texas…
And the yellow rose of June.
No rose more famous than our yeller one.
The song, however, was written about a woman.
Not a flower.
Roses (the flower) migrated to Texas.
Just like everybody else, originally.
Regardless of where it grows, the rose belongs to the month of June.
And rose-blooming season is upon us.
Get roses at The Green House.
Although the best time to plant them is barefoot in the Fall.
Take a peek into the world of roses.
You’ll find a vast garden of information.
Charles Quest-Ritson tells all in his tome:
Climbing Roses of the World.
Here’s a noteworthy tidbit:
“All ramblers are climbers, but all climbers are not necessarily ramblers.”
Sounds more like a description of my Uncle Earl.
Roses made the town of Tyler, Texas famous.
After blight wiped out their peaches, somebody had a blooming idea to plant roses as the main commercial crop.
And also brought major tourism to the town.
Thanks to the rose.
Vineyards could do that for Mason.
The humble little grape.
Clinging to its gnarly vine.
Withstanding freak ice storms.
And killer August heat.
Maturing, in spite of it all.
Only to be picked, plucked, and pummeled into wine.
Prize-winning wine at that.
Thanks to Tallent Vineyards.
Becker Winery (formerly Peter’s Prairie Vineyard).
And Alphonse Dotson’s Certenberg Vineyards.
Right here in our own backyard.
Sandstone Cellars Winery wins awards for their wine.
Local grapes are magically converted into stellar blends by winemaster, Don Pullum.
Pullum’s Akashic Vineyard was the first one in Mason County.
Local growers Paul Buist and Rob Parr toiled the soil in the name of good wine.
Now Robert Clay Vineyard has taken over for Buist.
It’s a hard row to hoe, vineyards.
Ask any of them.
But their economic impact on Mason County promises to be fruitful.
And their product fulfilling.
“La vie est trop courte pour boire du mauvais vin.”
Life IS too short to drink bad wine.
“Con pan y vino se anda el camino!”
With bread and wine, you can walk any road.