Whats with the roses?
Perhaps its the wonderful crisp winters day, and the fact that I have been outside playing with the Kids, perhaps it’s because I have been thinking about the rapid onset of middle age, or it could be the naughty glass of wine I am enjoying on the balcony right now, but I am thinking about the rose bushes that were planted all around the playgrounds I frequented as a small boy...
I am not sure what they are called, but they have really pretty small pink flowers, the hips are bright red in the autumn, and the Swedes make a quite vile soup from them, (they are also ubiquitous around Swedish playgrounds...) the only thing I remember the "berries" being good for was throwing or it was said if you could dry the insides out, it made a wicked itching powder, unfortunately I believe both these uses have now been banned under EU law, so I guess it’s only rosehip soup these days.
Anyway, the main thing I remember about these bushes is the fact that they had more thorns per square centimeter than any other plant known to man, and any child unlucky enough to fall (or be pushed!) into the huge thickets surrounding every playground suffered near mortal injury, and was due for not only a bollocking for ripping their clothes when they got home, but also a session with the tweezers and Germolene. OUCH!!!
Now I can be a nasty piece of work as much as the next man, but even I shudder at the sadistic nature of whichever bastards decided these were the perfect plants for children’s play areas, and the fact the Swedes have them all around the parks here also worries me, perhaps there is a rational explanation such as they are to deter kiddy-fiddlers from lurking in the bushes, or more likely the position of "playground planner" just attracts lifes more bitter and twisted individuals..( I shall have to enquire as to crazy cat ladies™ previous occupation ). If anyone has any ideas, please let me know...
