It has been so spring-like that the temptation to garden was too much to resist. A new know-out rose is now planted outside the studio, next to the porch. I moved a pot of roses I got last year when we visited friends in Martinsburg, WV to the porch and planted two containers of cherry tomatoes on the other side of the same porch.
I'm not much of a gardener but the area outside the new room really is a blank canvas and I'm having fun learning about things that grow here and plotting out what I hope it will look like when it is all planted and blooming.
California was amazing because everything grew so fast that within a year that spindly little plant you thought would never amount to much was taking over the side of the house and advancing on the neighbor's roof. It required no skill at all to have a pretty spectacular garden.
When my father-in-law passed away I wanted something to remind me of him. I planted a fern under the pergola outside the front door to our house in California. I walked by it so many times a day and marveled at how quickly it grew and thought about Frank. That led me to think of developing a memory garden of sorts out of that area. It was a shady spot with filtered sunlight and pretty decent soil. I bought another kind of fern in memory of my mother-in-law, Nan...of Strawberry pie fame. My father had died many years before and I thought he needed to be remembered too. And so another fern was planted. When my mother passed away at 85 it was quite natural to plant something in her honor. I found an exotic fern and added it to the garden. They all flourished and I felt as if all those missing people were all there in spirit to bid me good-bye or welcome me home.
My mother would have been particularly pleased with a memory garden. She was an amazing gardener. I saw her take cuttings of plants on trips or visits to friend's homes. She would wrap the stems in wet paper towels and carry them home with their tops sticking out of a sandwich bag. When she got home, she would dip the stems into rootone and plant them in a shady area, usually under the big pine tree outside her side door, and cover them with a tall mason jar which she screwed into the ground. She'd watch and check and water and, almost always, a new plant would be born. It was magical. Her yard was so beautiful from spring through the first snow fall and, well, even on a snowy day it was pretty. Of course the view of all the mountains didn't hurt either.
When I think of fall I remember the smells of WV and my parent's place in particular. Raking and stirring up the wet, decomposing leaves sent a wonderful rich aroma into the air and that smell coupled with a chilly, breezy day are what I always think of when I think of fall.
My mother wasn't a very sophisticated lady and a lot of what she knew was based on family folklore. As far as gardening went, that accumulated knowledge was dead-on.
Well, those two places, the one in California and the place in WV, are just fond memories now and it is time to plant a memory garden here for those folks and a few others I lost but will never forget. Getting that done will make this place that I love even more special. Maybe a
fountain and bird bath too.
Bailey, resting on the couch behind me and looking as if he'd really appreciate it if I quit this task and played a short game of Llama.
The top two pictures were taken at our local Botanical Gardens. It is a spectacular place and their restaurant is excellent too.
