Spring anticipation...

I’ve worked my fingers to the bones in the garden these last few weeks, my hands are calloused, my skin dried and my body ache, but my little heart is singing the songs of spring and summer, and my lips have regained the sign of joy.

All those iris bulbs I’d dug out are now replanted in some other parts of the garden—around the swing, a massive showing of them will be blooming this summer.  That old swing, which I am eager to use this year.  To use it a lot, I hope… finally, because now I won’t be afraid of snakes or any other unknown creature coming out of the woods behind me to attack, just as I used to think back when we lived in our little white cottage.   But of course, you can see why!

On Saturday I was finally able to tackled the entrance of the garden, and I have cleaned and prepared all flowerbeds there.  I also removed every pugnacious weed that was growing among the pea pebbles.  I can hardly wait now to shop for plants, bulbs and flowers to fill this space with; a space that had always been one of my favorite, if not my favorite of all parts of the garden here at the house in the roses. 

There’s a ‘Don Juan’ climbing rose growing on the side of the wall, and there’s also a grapevine, and one or two Knockout roses.  And by the fence, on the other side on that same space, there’s a Virginia creeper vine that has grown abundantly, and now is covering part of the fence, just as I’d trained it to do so many years ago.  There’s also a miniature rose growing there too.  Grasses, and black-eyed Susans used to grow there.  I can't hardly wait to see what will be coming out of the earth in this space… what flowers and roses, what leaf and whatnots, just to amaze me, and gift me with wings under my breath. 

How lovely.  How very lovely spring is in these parts of the world.  When you really miss something, the anticipation of seeing it coming back to you is like a miracle of sorts.  And you wait for it to be revealed onto your soul in a million desires, and it is the most precious, glorious thing on earth ever.  I don’t use to miss or marveled about the coming of spring when we lived in the South, and I guess it was because I never had to miss it.  Really miss it.  It was never robbed from us in its entirety.  We always had it with us.  In a way.

Birds, and doves have finally found the birdfeeders, and I cannot express well enough or beautiful enough how very happy they make me.  I miss my cardinals of the south, but what true joy the mourning doves are—like a pure jewel in the color of clouds.     

 Squirrels too! 

The other day I received a most interesting email… It was from the girl who bought our little white cottage.  And with the nicest message too… she reads my blog she said, and wanted to tell me how the gardens at the little white cottage are doing and how she found a green buffet just like the one I had in the kitchen, so that part of the house remains the same.  “And this is what the cottage looks like in the snow. And the garden is already starting to come back to life with the spring coming this way. I’ve been working hard getting weeds pulled and things pruned back. The hydrangeas are already starting to get green leaves on them. And the vines over the railing on the back patio have beautiful yellow flowers on them. I know how much you enjoyed this garden and how you made it so beautiful I want to continue its beauty. I’ve been reading your blogs on the new house and you’re going to have such a beautiful garden there :) I can’t wait to see pictures when its finished and all bloomed”. 

Wasn’t that extra nice of her!  I even got some pics to remind me of how lovely spring was at the little white cottage.  Thank YOU, my friend!

Saturday

The geranium I brought with me from our sunny gardens at the little white cottage is doing splendidly. It is full, and happy, it has produced big, dark green leaves, and its red flowers are a jewel in my winter days.

On Thursday I dug out some of the Phlox outside the kitchen window and transplanted them on that path along the entrance of the garden.  I did some more cleaning on that other side of the garden as well, and started opening all those boxes containing all of my little garden friends and such, and which have been parked on the back porch since the day the movers arrived, back in November of this past year.  

Finally, the days are warm enough and sunshiny enough for me to be able to do that.  I was surprised to find such an array of things contained in those boxes… all of my little garden friends, statues and embellishment enough to adorn two more gardens.  What would I do with so much?  I might have to get rid of some, because, oh I know… the Fisherman!  He won’t like it! 

I remember how displeased he used to be back when we lived here about my little friends scattered around my garden.  You see, they were fine hiding amidst hostas and hydrangeas and bushes of all sorts that kept their charm even during our mild southern winters, back at the little white cottage, but because this garden is so bare during the winter months, all of my little friends are very obvious, and I have to agree—they are not an elegant sight. 

Some of you had suggested on a few posts back, I use chicken scraps to feed my birds and doves.   And so, I went to Zamzows and got a huge bag.  I was told this is also good for attracting quails.  But thus far, I haven’t seen a single bird.  Where are they?

The other day, I tried to find a better, or a more obvious place to place Jennelle, because where I had her I don’t get to see her that much, but thus far I haven’t decided yet where she should live.  

Then, the most strange of things happened.  I took her back to that room where I originally had her, and this morning when I entered that room she was on the floor and everything I had on top of that little orange dresser where she sat, knocked down and scattered around.

I was very surprised and a bit upset too, and decided to place her on that wall going up the stairs, where I have other paintings as well.  But I don't know if I want to keep her any more.  Should I keep her?  Should I not?   

I only wish I could grab some paint and brushes and cover all those not so pretty spots on her neck and dripping paint.  But I’m sure I will ruin the painting if I do so.  Wish some of you artistic souls out there could come by and help! ;)  

On Monday, the Home Depot guys will be here to change the carpet in our family room.  I have chosen a tufted pattern in golden that I think is going to look awesome with all the metallic accents I have there.  I can hardly wait! 

See you soon my friends!  It is a beautiful sunny day here.  Enjoy your day, wherever you are!

   

A garden's diary

3-2-18

The sun came up today and by 3:30pm it got warm enough for me to want to go outside and do some work in the garden.  But what a disappointment it was to find myself deprived of the necessary energy to carry out the work that must be done.  So much.  So much to do!

 3-5-18

And the sun came out, and it glowed long and hard warming up the earth, which sang a new song and my little heart was overjoyed and filled with that kind of joy it hadn’t felt in a very long while…

This time, I was able to accomplished a lot. I started working on that part of the garden I couldn’t handle the other day.  Stone by stone had to be removed first, so that I could then remove all that grass.  All that grass which was let to grow rampant where it should have not.  And it had to be removed by the thwack of a small hoe and by hand.

I also removed every iris bulb growing there… those old irises I had planted many years ago, one or two, but now they have multiplied abundantly, and are already showing happy little green heads.

I will have to level out the soil in that space, and add more soil too, because it is now looking like a little grave of sorts, and the stones will have to be placed on another part of the garden too, or perhaps I should rebuild what I had there originally in a poor attempt to create a little pond?  

Today, I was also able to clean another corner of the garden.  I removed two dead shrubs.  One rose that had become wild and flowerless, and another one with thick, huge roots that I wasn't able to completely remove.  The roots had to be cut under the soil, but they're still there.

The fence will have to be restained.  This time in a much darker tint, and after a fresh layer of soil, mulch and new perennials, this corner will be magically transformed!  Oh I know!

03-06-18

Amazing how one day can considerably change from one to another… and the wind of the NW.  Bitter and hateful to my heart.  Nevertheless, I bundled up and went to work the gardens. 

The little ‘make believe’ pond part of the garden I made years ago is now cleaned and stones have been put along the fence as a barricade to protect the space from unwanted grass coming from the other side.  The sod had been removed and all trash collected.  Now that the job is done, it is almost hard to believe how bad it had looked, and how much I feared working that part of the garden.  I knew it was going to be a torture of a job… all the stones needing be removed and all irises dogged out and then… that awful grass.  But now it is all done.  And clean.  And the space ready to be embellished!

Now, it’ll be the weed killer along the fence and putting all those stones back again in pretense of a little pond, and... plant plant plant around it! 

  

I have so many iris bulbs to plant a whole garden, so I will be replanting some in between the stones again.  

The others, will be planted in memory of my mother along the little dried creek she and I build.  I’m thinking that I will also want to add some other type of flowers there, as the irises last for such short time.  But what?

My friend Christina is dividing her huge hostas this weekend she said, and I will be getting part of that bounty.  Perhaps, I should plant those hostas along the irises, in that little sanctuary in the garden?

After I was done working in my ‘pretense-pond’, I removed more unwanted grasses from other parts of the garden as well and raked everything.  Everything.  Since I don’t have a place where to discard debris and such from the garden as I used to back at the little white cottage, everything needs to be put in trash bags and/or trash bins.  And thus, the huge trash bin is so heavy, I almost couldn’t move it.  I hope it won’t present a problem for the trash collector people, next week.

There was a type of a grass I planted everywhere in the garden years ago that I never liked, but I used to be very sensitive about removing and trashing things from the garden… they were something sacred, or something like that to me.  But I have learned.  And now I won’t think it twice if something ever need be removed or thrown away.  Life if too short to keep plants that are not doing so good or that you just simply dislike.

The garden is so emptied and flowerless, and yet, the ground is brimming with potential!  And what's more important, it is already looking so much nicer!!

 My little creature friends are as excited as I am to see this place overflowing in flowers again!

  

 It is like a new canvas… a new painting taking shape!

Soon, soon little ones!

Winter blues...

February 28

I always knew I didn’t like January or February... but I had forgotten why when we moved south.  So fast the soul forgets about the perils of yesterday when you’re happy!  But, we're back here again, back to the land of snows.  And I haven’t been feeling well for so long now, that I have forgotten how to smile wide and hard inside.

 

The big square table hasn’t been used in a long time either—not for breakfast, or lunch or dinner any more, like we used to.  It was always a happy table back at the little white cottage, a throne of sorts where we would enjoy hours eating, or reading, or just looking at the glories outside at any time of day, any time of the year. 

I used to embellish it with whatever I had on hand… little things that make me happy, flowers, candles, a plant or two, books...  

But now the table sits in a room all to itself with windows that overlook the street on one side and to a neighbor’s house on the other.  It is not a pleasant thing to have to look at your neighbor’s old car parked across your window... so close, that you can almost reach out and touch it, or his huge trailer on the back, always erasing the sky from my sight.

And thus, I can’t find a place to ‘land’ here—so it seems.  A place where I feel comfortable enough, and happy enough to just sit and be.  It has to be, of course, a place from where I can look outside and contemplate the world outside my windows.  I work upstairs, on the second floors, where my only view are the rooftops and the revelation of the far away mountains.  For that I am thankful.  There’s a single tree too, tall enough to be seen from the bay window where I sit and work, and sometimes a flock of birds would fly by to it and rest for a while on thin naked branches. But that's about it.

 

March 2

By early evening every drop of snow had melted away. Rivers of water poured forth from above and below cleaning the skies, cleaning the earth.  And thus, the wheel of time is turning.  If I look outside my window I can corroborate it.  Shadows are gathering up in little cumulus of light, and the slant of cheerless wintry glow that surfaces around mid afternoon over the somnolent garden is slowly shifting... slowly; very slowly... things are changing.  

If I pay close attention to my surroundings, I can see only blue against the last remnants of white, and the evening light is promising; it carries within itself a faint intonation of spring...  Hope!

"For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience" (Romans 8:24-25). 

That old garden in the roses

Saturday, February 24—more snow.  We woke up to more snow… it all started with a light dust of snow that as the day progressed, it quickly turned into some big puffs that soon covered every inch of ground in our little world.

And it snowed all-day-long.  Plunging temperatures. Blustery winds. Pitch darkness by 6 p.m. The polar bear is definitely not my spirit animal.  My heart is full of summer dreams, and I’m fancying warm southern days and pyramids of tall green trees.  And there’s a garden in my dreams I’ve already seen.  I remember this and this and this…

And I remember this too...

 

Would I see all this again?  Are all these glories I see in these old photographs still here?  Could it be possible?  Because all I see now in my garden is emptiness, and white white white... nothing else.  No flowers, no bushes, no petals.  I can hardly believe I once had all that beauty contained in my very own backyard… what would I be seeing here this spring and summer will be a total surprise.  I just don't know.  Would all those roses of yesterday come back again this year?—to greet me back home, to enchant my heart again with petal dreams, and pastel shades of pinks?   I can only wait, and hope.