Friday's Musings

Although the weather isn't an impressive summer mix of heat, sun, and the sticky film that envelops us the minute we venture out, it's been just enough rain & sun to urge the green up from it's secret hiding place. So today I thought I'd share a little of what's going on in my garden. Funny how all of the first flowers in my garden are purple. My mom always said the bigger the bloom the quicker they fade, so catching the foxglove is one of the highlights of spring, if the rain doesn't mangle them first. The pink Weigiela was a "moving home" gift from my parents, grows so fast it's a great way to make a huge impact. Reminds me of the person who's impacted my life in the greatest way.


Honestly, most of my plants came from my mother's garden. I consider this the kind of heirlooms one should treasure the most, because not only do you receive part of your family's past, you can spread it all over without losing anything. These yellow Iris's are such a treat amongst the purple Baptesia towering in the back, and the Veronica (bought in honor of my 5th child) I have to go out and look at them every day.

The obelisk in the background was a special request for my birthday several years ago. It's builder is my father, whom I consider to be the most talented human I know. It's not just talent, it's a cleverness, ingenuity and motivation I've never seen in another. Yes, there are others like him, just not quite as wonderful :-) and not that are so giving of their time. I have been truly blessed by parents who love me like no others. In the foreground are Siberian Iris's my sister graciously donated to my one time barren patch of gravel. Later on her Black Eyed Susans will make me smile well into fall. The silvery swatch is the young Silver King Artemesia my lovely mom has now given to 4 of my gardens around the country. Talk about sowing!

So this is my garden. But it's not mine. It belongs to my husband, who built and buried the fences all across, pieces of wood from his father's deck. His father, who in this an many other manners will always be here with us. Who made my husband the incredible man he is today. He (my husband of course) put in the lightposts to always guide our way home. A former friend of mom's, who sent her unwieldy rambling roses to me, since they overtook her plot, reminds us of friendships and their fragility. My best friend, who's blanket of sweet pink creeping flowers reminds me of a good base for friendship. How we must treasure and tend them lest they be lost. The stones in the path, a rich part of New England's history and how they once labored to rid their fields so they could live and eat.

Yes, this is my garden. It's not huge, it's not the most beautiful I've seen. For me, however, it's a reminder of where I come from. The wonderful people without whom this would not be, nor would I. I can ignore it, like them, and it will wither, like our relationships. Or I can give it my love and attention, like they've given me, treat it well, and it, like them, will grace my life with beauty and richness.