On this windy, sunshine-y day, I have ventured out with my camera,
wishing to capture all my growing things.
Even though the predominant color, as the camera snaps, will be shades of green,
I am already seeing the colors of the blooms.
You surely have had this same thought,
if you are as attached to your outdoor "babies" as much as I.
Not all the things photographed will be of things placed in the soil by my hands.
Some were placed lovingly by the hands of the woman who shared the first half of my husband's adult life...
I humbly offer my efforts to tend to the grapevine, the yarrow,
an azalea, and the daffodils that remain ...
adding phlox, hydrangeas, and other varieties of daffodils from her mother's farm
(of whom I affectionately call 'Mamaw'...
and in return, she tenderly refers to me as 'Nancy's husband's wife'...it works for us.)
This patch of Yarrow was given to Nancy by her sister Bonnie. It produces the loveliest yellow flower with a strong stem, perfect for drying and adding to wreaths and other dried arrangements.
But where have all the wild violets come from?
Did God remember that they are my most dearly loved flower? Did he direct the wind as it sprinkled wild violet dust over this lovely acreage?
That would be just like Him, wouldn't it?
Let's begin the tour, shall we?
Turning to take a photograph, I noticed my shadow...garden hat perched just so, gardening apron blowing...it portrayed a more romantic version of the gardener than a mirror....
I digress...aren't the blooms on this azalea the most gorgeous shade? This is tucked in between the giant boxwood, nandina and evergreens at the front of the house,
so laboriously planted in the late 90's.
(I've tucked a photo of our front porch...it patiently awaits the pretty geraniums I will soon find for sale at our local fresh market.)
The climbing hydrangea we purchased and planted last Spring, was fascinating to watch,
as it appeared that it was attaching itself to the brick even as we were blinking.
This side of our home was in desperate need of a focal point,
and it happens to receive the most shade on those hot summer afternoons.
Perfect for hydrangeas.
I carefully mapped the outline of the bed and where each transplant/purchase would be planted.
A young man was hired to take on the arduous task of digging, planting and mulching.
The hydrangea growing to the left of the climber, was transplanted last Spring from Mamaw's farm. It was blue last year, and I am hoping our soil will allow it to remain that beautiful shade. Our climbing girl already has little "pincushion" buds! How exciting!
Phlox, also from Mamaw's farm, has a growth spurt.
These buckets of Peonies were purchased as an afterthought end of season, last year,
because of their beautiful pale pink blooms.
I had set them, still potted, out of the way, assuming they wouldn't come back;
I had surely given them a sad welcome.
Why would they have the will to live?
Low and behold, the red little heads popped through the soil,
and if I don't make haste transferring them into the ground,
I shall certainly regret my delay.
Hang on my sweet Peony friends!
This massive arbor was built by Nancy,
and her hands set out and trained the grapevine that still remains.
Another large root was sadly mistaken as a "tangled mess of weeds."
It was plucked from the ground by the fellow who had been asked to paint a fresh white coat.
He apparently thought he had done a worthy deed.....
We must never linger in our frustrated thoughts of the past, I continually remind myself.
The Japanese Cherry in the background was a small "bush" when I arrived, and it has multiplied in size, over these last seven years.
It stands next to the fence that Nancy constructed, as well.
The barn to the rear of our property was constructed in '04-'05. The artisans who carefully pieced the stones in place, also completed the stonework around the banks of our pond and the four corners of our well house. (You will see these in an upcoming post)
Aren't the violets lovely? I could pick them and press them into every book in my cupboard!
If you are a subscriber to Mary Jane's Farm magazine,
you would have seen the article, in the April/May issue,
written by Natalie Wise of Rookery Ramblings Blog and office manager of the Rookery...
Tasha Tudor and Family.
I spoke with her on the phone, giving her rave reviews on her article,
and inquired which Wellies they preferred...
which ones held up the best..
and she replied that 'Hunters' were their favored choice.
I couldn't believe they came in this shade...the color of our state flower, the Iris,
and, as you can see, the color of our "estate" flower, the Wild Violet!!
(it doesn't take much to thrill this budding gardener!)
Each of these Irises were grown by my daddy, divided, and brought to me to transplant, alongside daffodils planted many moons ago, by other hands, who had acquired those pale yellow flowers from a family farm, holding century old bulbs in its rich soil.
All these "growing" things have a story...
I am a keeper of stories.
Call it gardening...
Call it storytelling...
Is there a difference?
