Greenleaf

Give fools their gold and knaves their power,
Let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall…
Who sows a field or trains a flower
Or plants a tree, is more than all.

~~~James Greenleaf Whittier

My godfather sent me this quote recently, and I was amused by the author's name. My maternal great-grandfather changed his name to Samuel Greenleaf Stevens in the early 1900s. He and my great-grandmother ran a dairy in Moore, SC and farmed their entire lives.

I've always said my mother had the greenest thumb of any person I have ever known. I admired her most for this. Most of my earliest as well as last memories of my mother are of her gardening. She drove me nuts when I was younger - you couldn't take a shower in our house without first emptying the shower FULL of plants. Mowing the lawn was a navigational nightmare because she planted things everywhere. I remember elephant ears over our heads, tremendous caladiums, hydrangeas and rose bushes covered with blooms, more greens than I ever want to eat in my lifetime, and more. My mother would bring plants to me in college though I told her I didn't want them. I would purposely not water them, to diassociate myself from her plants and from her, in some way. I didn't get along with my mother at all, and rejecting her plants was a tiny act of rebellion.

My mother and I were never close, but the one thing we could talk about without arguing was gardening. I sought her landscaping advice when we closed on our house in December 2006, but she died unexpectedly in January 2007. I planted a blue hydrangea in her memory, and each year I increase the size of my vegetable garden. I think she would be surprised at the enthusiasm I now have for it, and pleased by it. I feel the closest to her when I garden, but I imagine her laughing at me as well. Each spring I find myself absolutely compelled to get outside and play in the dirt. I cannot resist the siren's call, and I suspect it runs through the blood in my veins.

I searched my hard drive for photographs documenting my mother's horticultural prowess, and turned up very little. I know I have prints . . . somewhere . . . I need to find them and scrap them. For now, here is a photo of my lil sis in front of several pots of caladiums.

A New Beginning

Spring is official now, and not just because the calendar says so. The first day of Spring is March 21 in my book - because that's my birthday, and I say so. March 20 is jumping the gun. Anyways, I celebrated my birthday - I mean, the first day of Spring- with a tradition I started just a few years ago. I bought myself a quality pair of gardening gloves. They are pretty, and feel so nice, it almost seems a shame to destroy them. But I promise to wear them out by Fall if not sooner. I also replaced a couple of broken tools, and splurged on a snazzy gardening stool which promises to save wear and tear on my back and knees. (thanks Billy for the birthday splurge!) This afternoon I dirtied my new gloves with the first of many hours weeding and transplanting in the yard. I planted a blooming pink gerber daisy and a purple clematis bulb in the bed around my mailbox. I dug up the hens & chicks at the mailbox and moved them the memorial bed in the center of the yard. (when my lil sister died unexpectedly two years ago, I planted a Japanese Maple in her memory. Under the tree I placed the memorial stone I received when my dad died almost 6 years ago. Last summer we added memorial stone pawprints from Chula, our nearly-17yo dog who died in July. There are plants emerging all over the yard, and the new growth excites me. As always, I have grand intentions for my yard and garden.

So I thought this seemed like a good time to start my blog. My new blog. I abandoned my old one a long time ago. Lots of life changes in the last few years, lots of time spent figuring out who I am - who I want to be. I have several people depending on me and a lot going on in my life, and I sometimes I lose myself. I lose focus and I lose joy and I wonder what I'm doing. I'm hoping this might be just the place I need to keep me grounded. I signed up for Shimelle's "Blogging for Scrapbookers" class after reading about it on my bff Cheri's blog. I'm late to the party (I usually am) but I'm going to try to catch up. So here goes, I have grand intentions for this blog, like my garden, and I know I can get it to grow.