GardenFriends

From the House Out

This passage is taken from Richardson Wright's Another Gardener's Bed-Book @1933.

Gardens should be made from the house out. Assume the attitude of Sister Anne and gaze out windows, sit on terraces and porches, linger in doorways and from these vantage-points visualize the garden that is to be. Follow this practice and the garden will be a more satisfactory revelation of your tastes than if you make it from the property line in. Gardens made from the house out offer the same penetrating confidence as people who look you straight in the eye.

I have been doing a lot of this type of gardening lately with all the rain these past few days. I stand at the rain-streaked window and dream. I walk out to the garage and survey the garden from the doorway thru the raindrops. Then I walk upstairs to the window at my drafting table and take in the bird's eye view to "visualize the garden that is to be." It is a surefire way to save a lot of time, money, and at my age, backbreaking work!

DONE!

It is official. I am done! I just now submitted my last required assignment online for the coursework portion for my BLA/MLA (bachelor and masters in landscape architecture). No doubt, I still have a mountain to climb with finishing up my thesis, but that will come along. My major prof gave me permission to lay off for a while and go garden. I need a break to get my head back in the game if I am going to do this in a way that is fulfilling for me.

So, I am feeling pretty grand right now. It's a little bittersweet, tho. I've shed a few tears this past week when I started cleaning out my grad studio space. I even experienced an anxiety attack when I thought about the loss of this structure in my life for the last 4 years when I had to be somewhere AND with completed assignments!

Mostly, I have been sad thinking about the dispersal of all the kiddies with whom I have come to share close and wonderful friendships and who will be spinning off from the College of Design to conquer their worlds. They have accepted and included me in all their antics and foibles. I love them dearly. This past semester I have made a conscious effort to be present for their reviews. Yesterday was the last of the last. It ran from 10 A.M. to 3:30 P.M. I am not complaining. It was great to watch them spin their stories about the amazing places they and their team mates had created through models and renderings. These designs flowed from their fingertips through the keyboard and into the software which fed the printers that spewed out these incredible, large-format images of places that exist only in the mind's eye. Wow! Truly mind-boggling. Plus there was champagne and Peanut M&Ms, so the day was actually fun.

What happens next? As I stated earlier, my prof gave me permission to dig in the dirt for a couple of weeks. Then Tess will be off to Uganda. Her father and I will take her to the airport to see her off on the trip of a lifetime....one month in Africa as part of a high school adventure. Her brother was also a junior on the 2005 team that kicked-off this project of building schools, so this is a nice conclusion for Tess' junior year. A close family friend will be the doc traveling with this group, so we will breathe easier knowing Dr. Brown is watching over our collective brood.

Tomorrow I am hosting the semi-annual SSLA BBQ (that is the ISU student chapter of our professional organization) and we will party. These 5th year students are my people; I have spent most of my classes and studios with this group throughout my 4-year journey. The weatherman has promised balmy temps and a clear sky, so I am looking forward to this last bash in the garden.

Then I will dig. I have a veggie garden that needs attending to now that we are into May. This year I am planting beets and potatoes. And garlic. I used to grow garlic, but somehow things got away from me the Fall of 2007. I will see if I can get some cloves going; maybe get some springtime scapes yet this season. I also want to plant carrots and greens.

I vow also to attack the lawn. Literally. Last year I pulled all the brick edging out 4 feet to extend perennials beds and reduce the amount of lawn to mow. I need to do that in the front garden as well and also add to some areas in the way-back garden. That will involve hauling brick, which is labor intensive, so it will give my mind some much needed exercise in those other lobes.

I also found an index card in my pile the other night when I was looking for some sketches to hand in with my construction assignment. It listed some designed landscapes to see B4ID (B4 I die), so perhaps another road trip while Tess is gone to Uganda.

I have dreamed of this day for a very, very long time. Looking back, I can now see that it has driven some major decisions over the last 30 years of my life. Who know where the road will take me. I'm not worried. Things always work out for a reason and I believe in my heart that all things will work out for me.

Honey

...the Bendix and the back door... see the design in my wallpaper? You can see also just what time it was, Honey. Even the second hand is straight up...see that little thing hanging on the wall. That is for dimes. When it gets full, I buy Defense Stamps. Does it look natural, Honey?




(sentiments written on the back of an old photograph)

When You Find It...

Among the photos that I pulled from the sleeves of the albums in that East Village antique shop is the one that appears above in my blog header. When I turned over its page the breath caught in my throat. This photograph carries an essence of deja vu that I have been here before. The eeriness of this snapshot is not so much its familiarity, but that I will return to this place again. That old woman rounding the corner is me.

I study this photo and I feel such contentment. This is my home...my life. I have finally found my place. My old friends are scattered along the streets of this little town and down long gravel lanes out in the countryside. I am surrounded by my gardens where I hill my potatoes and harvest greens for my evening meal. When the flowers are in bloom, I fill my home with colorful bouquets that scent the air and remind me every day of the beauty in my world. I relish the work that pulls me into the gardens daily and leaves my body spent when I crawl into bed every night.

Another look at this old photo tells me that I have been here for a very long time. The gardens testify to that. I seem to remember a tall fence once, but now it is gone...and this very spot was once shaded by a tree. Phlox, dahlias, and peonies thrive in this now-sunny corner of the garden. I also remember the entire property covered with lawn, but only remnant strips of grass remain. Like the one in the photo, these narrow paths run along the garden beds that now blanket this earth.

I hold my future in my hands in this old B&W photograph. I have to wonder when my present life will intersect with this future one and I find myself rounding that corner.

The Farmer Takes a Wife

I was recently in Des Moines' East Village doing research at the State Historical Library. When I finished for the day, I tromped over to my favorite antique shop Found Things and happened upon a cupboard of photograph albums full of old B&W snapshots. I pulled out several marked 'rural' and carried them over to a quiet corner where I could leisurely flip through them. I love images of old couples and I found a gold mine. Many of these photos are staged in front of the barn which relates to the importance of these old buildings on the family farm back in the day.

My favorite is the one I chose for this post....check out his pants and braces...and her shoes. I always wonder about the story behind the photograph. There is corn growing at his feet; he is leaning on some sort of implement to go after the weeds. Is this their garden, or are they standing on the edge of a larger field? Who was snapping the picture? What was happening on this day that prompted someone with a camera to take a photo of this couple? They look happy, even contented....at least at this moment in time. They are both wearing rings on the third finger of the left hand, so I am assuming they are a couple together. They are leaning in a bit...is it for the photo, or because that is what a couple does after years of living together?

His shirt pocket reveals what appears to be a writing instrument. Does he make "to do" lists as he works around the farm? When he is chasing those weeds, does he compose love poems in his head and then stop to lean on that hoe while he writes them down? Will he place these written words around their home where he knows his wife will discover them?

Maybe these love sonnets are not written for his wife, but for a long-lost love....someone who captured his heart years ago. He dreams of someday when he scribbles his thoughts, but he knows deep in his heart that the choice he made for this life was based on a woman who was right for him. This woman by his side in the photograph was the one who made him a better man. She was the one who made him believe in himself...in honesty and commitment and marriage. This woman by his side was his better choice. For better or for worse.

Bloodroot

Last week as I was scurrying through the DFW airport to catch my plane back to Iowa, I noticed an older, dapper gentleman standing by a doorway leading outside to the drop-off lanes. He was dressed to the nines...gray dress trousers, a blue blazer, and a blue pinpoint cotton shirt with tie. I also noticed his nicely-shined loafers. He carried no luggage; the lanyard around his neck displayed an official-looking logo. He waved as I passed by, and since I had forgotten to don my wristwatch, I stopped to ask the time. He grabbed my hand when I was within range and kissed my palm. He whispered the time in my ear as he pulled me close. How very strange.

OK...I had an uneasy feeling that I should get far away from this man, but his demeanor was not that of a leach, but of a tender heart who was reaching out for human contact. I would guess his age to be about 70-75. He spoke with an accent that seemed Middle Eastern. He asked where my journeys had taken me, where my home was, why the hurry....all in a gentle way that invited further conversation. He shared that he was from Israel and would be joining his son there in two months. He had been staying with a daughter, but missed his homeland and was joyous that he would be returning soon. He loved being with his family here, but his grandchildren, were "wearing out this old man!"

We had a pleasant chat, but as I turned to leave, he reached again for my hand. This time he pulled me closer and kissed my cheek. He said he wanted to send me off into the future with a full heart and loving thoughts. I thanked him and wished him well in his travels. With that, I turned and headed off to my gate wondering why he was standing in that spot on this day...was he a greeter for the airport? Was he lost? Where did he belong? Regardless of his story, I was uncomfortable that I had been suspicious of such good will.

Upon my return home, I jumped into some work that had been ignored while at the conference, but I could not stop thinking about the airport gentleman. I recounted the experience several times; I could not put it to rest. Before closing down the computer Sunday night, I tapped on Rob Brezsny's horoscope for this week and here is what I found.

Cancer Horoscope for week of April 14, 2011

Over the years I have on several occasions stood at a highway exit ramp with a handmade cardboard sign that reads, "I love to help; I need to give; please take some money." I flash a wad of bills, and offer a few dollars to drivers whose curiosity impels them to stop and engage me. I've always been surprised at how many people hesitate to accept my gift. Some assume I have a hidden agenda; others think I'm crazy. Some are even angry, and shout things like "Go home, you freak!" If a comparable experience comes your way anytime soon, Cancerian, I urge you to lower your suspicions. Consider the possibility that a blessing is being offered to you with no strings attached.

Now I better understood that it was OK to just accept this man and my encounter with him for what he was offering....a full heart and loving thoughts.