Touring the Front Garden.

It's finally done.

After months of work . . . and months of procrastination . . . the front garden is finally done.

As a matter of fact, it's nearly immaculate. For the first time ever.

Here's the thing. I love, love to plan out a garden. I love playing with different ideas and trying to find ways to use a variety of plants and plan for bloom time as early and as late as humanly possible in my northern prairie garden. I do not love heavy digging or weeding. At all . . . I certainly don't find it therapeutic as so many do. But, I love to look at beautiful gardens. I love to pick bouquets for myself and my friends. And nothing is better than an early morning in the garden, still in pj's, sitting by the pond, with a cup of tea and homemade bread slathered with butter and homemade strawberry jam. Unless of course, I also have a good book to read.

So I compromise. I accept that my garden will always be a little weedy and slightly disheveled. I count on strong design and shrubs to draw the eye away from lurking thistles and that crazy purple bellflower that looks so great . . . until it takes over the entire garden and nothing you do will ever get rid of it.

 I leave room for serendipity in my garden. I can plan each detail until I think the design is perfect and turn around to discover that birds have planted seeds from a garden blocks away, and that one small thing can take a garden from lovely to sublime, even if  just for a day or two. I see God so clearly in those moments. A reminder that He is the ultimate Gardener, and those moments were created specifically for me, because he loves me.

 Serendipity can only happen in a slightly messy garden.

So messy is good right??

But, for the first time, I'm also seeing joy in maintaining my garden. So I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts, because as much as I might tell myself that this time I'm going to keep it up for the entire gardening season, I know myself well enough to know how unlikely that is.

While my garden is at it's best, I thought I'd give you all a little tour . . .

I made the concrete leaves as well as the hands decorating the front gazebo. I love a reason to play around with a little concrete.

And . . . for those of you thinking I'm exaggerating my inability to keep a well tended garden, feel free to drop by for tea in the back garden. But bring your machete with you. You'll need it to make your way to the gazebo . . .

Before

 I hope you enjoyed your little tour!

Looking Forward to Spring.

I don't know about you, but not long after Christmas the itch for spring sets in. I enjoy the somewhat slower pace that comes with a Canadian winter (when it gets dark by 4:30 or 5:00 o'clock in the evening, all I really want to do is read a good book) but the gardener in me starts getting restless not long after the winter solstice.

With so many new hobbies and projects in the works this year, I had decided I would keep my gardening efforts very low key. I dismantled the shelves in the greenhouse and I'm still in the process of turning it into a tiny, natural light studio where I can take still life and product photography images all year. (My house doesn't get a lot of light in the winter.) I took the lights off of my seedling shelves and filled them with props . . .

In short  . . . I was sensible.

What I forgot in all this, was the fact that . . . well   . . . I'm not all that sensible when it comes to doing the things I love, especially when life is in need of a little extra joy.

I had a challenging day yesterday. The withdrawal symptoms from the medication I've been on for the lingering nerve pain after my bout with shingles in October aren't great. I decided it was time to do something fun. And today that meant something that would allow me to look forward to spring . . . and gardening.

I had a bag of tulip bulbs I had forgotten about down in my cold room and I knew just what to do. Thankfully, I hadn't gotten so sensible that I had purged all my gardening things. I made a quick trip the garden shed for my planting tray and some 6" pots, the kitchen for coffee filters and the greenhouse for a small bag of potting soil.

I was going to force my tulips, which would give me blooms inside long before I'd see any outside.

I'm late with this. I really should have done it in October sometime but, I had shingles, it was the last thing on my mind, so you work with what you have. Even though the bulbs aren't in top shape they are still firm and have begun to grow . . .

Time to garden!

 

There is nothing like playing in the dirt and imagining how pretty these are going to look to cheer me up!

Once the pots have been thouroghly watered and let sit over night, they will go into a dark, cool place until green starts poking up. Then they come out and go onto a sunny cool ledge. In this case the windowsill in Henry's man cave . . .

Shhhh . . . don't tell him!

The bonus to forcing this many pots of bulbs is that I can give them away as gifts. I get just as much joy giving them away, as I do keeping them.

What do you like to do to cheer yourself up when you feel a little 'blue'?

Sweet Surprises

Don't you love it when, out of the blue, something beautiful shows up?

Looking up in your rear view mirror as the sun sets with an orange glow that throws leafless trees in dark relief. Hoar frost that causes the world to shimmer magically on your chilly morning walk.

Late last fall  these delicate sweet peas were uncovered in the back garden by my friend Denise, when she was tidying it up for me. It was a challenging time, my shingles still hanging on, leaving me in a fair bit of pain, exhausted and unable to get much work done.

And then she brought me these . . .

Later, in my greenhouse, camera in hand, tears sprang into my eyes as I fluffed and faffed with these pretty little flowers. There are always sweet surprises, if you look for them . . .

They are personal surprises, bits of beauty that speak straight to your heart, reminding you that God isn't a distant, vague Father who cares about you in the abstract. He knows you intimately and goes out of his way to remind you of that. All we have to do is keep our eyes, and hearts, open to see it.

That's what these sweet peas were to me. A tiny bit of unexpected loveliness in a hard time. A reminder that, in the end, God triumphs over all.

Goodbye Garden Party

Nine years ago I started a business I'd been dreaming of for most of my married life.

A few months ago I said good bye to that business and, because I like to go all out no matter what I do, I threw a goodbye party in the garden where it all began.

 I thought it might be bittersweet. Hard to let go. Painful even.

It has been none of those things.

The best part of my business has always been my garden and I haven't lost that. If anything, my garden has become more precious to me, as it is once again a place of refuge, rather than  a portfolio of my style and skills.

Which is a good thing, because the crop of weeds I had growing didn't say a whole lot about my style and skills . . .

As a matter of fact, my next door neighbor, while commiserating with me on my inability to get ahead of those nasty opportunists, confided that she occasionally fantasied about getting out her rototiller!

Thankfully, my sweet husband okayed getting in some outside help, and Shyanne powered through both the front and back gardens in a two day long weeding marathon.

Which means the rototiller can stay where it belongs . . . next door! Whew . . .

Flowering has already started to slow down so I had every gardener's lament on my lips as the guests arrived "You should have seen it last week!"

Along with, "Have a glass of wine and something to eat!" of course . . .

I am so thankful for everyone who came and celebrated the end of an old dream and the beginning of a new one.

I had the loveliest time with all of you. My only regret is that I couldn't snuggle down into the sofa in the gazebo and have a long, leisurely visit with each and every one of you.

Perhaps what's needed are a string of intimate, one on one parties . . .

There's still  a little wine left.

If you couldn't make it, here's a virtual party. I wish I had more shots of the actual party, but, I was so busy enjoying it, I forgot to document it . . .

The sign of a successful party rather than a neglectful photographer???

Ahem . . .

Enjoy the party.