Nature Studies, Backyard, Gardening, Vacations

Time Began In A Garden


This was first p
osted on April 27, 2009, on my now retired blog One Generation to Another. I hope you enjoy :)

I love gardening. But who can blame me? Time began in a garden, at least biblically speaking. God did not plop Adam and Eve down in the desert.  Nor did he choose a mountain side or a quaint cove along United States’ eastern seaboard. Nope. He created the Garden of Eden. Granted, this wasn’t a working garden. Adam and Eve did not need to toil from dawn to dusk tilling the soil or performing tasks as seemingly mundane as weeding, but, he knew when he fashioned the first humans, a garden would prove to be good for their soul.

Years ago I was given a garden sign that said, “I’m closest to God in my garden. ” Truer words have never been uttered. I like church just as much as the next guy, and I’ve humbled myself before God in the wee hours of the night, safely tucked in my bed, BUT, I have my best conversations with God while I’m in my gardens. Sometimes our conversations are purely philosophical. “Okay, God. What’s up with mosquitoes? I don’t get them. Was that a faux pas on your part, or did you intentionally put them on this earth just to remind us that we aren’t in Heaven yet?” Sometimes my gardens become an outdoor counseling session with me just jabbering away about my latest woes, and God just sitting back jotting down notes. But my favorite time in the garden with God is when we work side by side, without speaking, simply aware of each other’s presence.


My first experiences with gardening weren’t as cathartic. As memory serves me, when growing up our gardens were quite lovely. Couple an engineering father who NEVER did anything unless he had a blueprint, and a mother who could have been the editor of Better Homes and Gardens, our gardens, like our house, belonged in magazines. I remember pristine beds filled with roses and alyssums. A porch flower box always held geraniums exploding with vibrant reds. And, seemingly an afterthought, although nothing ever was, the side of the house was a dense planting of my mother’s favorite flower, the zinnia.

The problem with the gardens was they were not interactive; at least not for us children. My parents planned and planted our gardens. We were not included in the creative side of gardening. Our only true interaction with them did not instill love of the gardens. Perhaps coincidentally, although I wonder, my parents would always wait until the hottest days of summer… certainly only days over 90 degrees, (there is the slightest possibility that I'm exaggerating) when the soil was parched and hard as a rock, then they would say the 2 words that instilled undiluted horror, “Go weed.” We were given spoons and instructed to dig up the weeds. If this seems like a scene out of “Mommy, Dearest” I can assure you, that’s exactly how it felt at the time! I think I probably started talking to God in the gardens back then. It’s probably a very good thing he never answered any of those prayers!

But, there must have been some recessive gene that lay dormant, until I had a house of my own. I was shocked and nearly giddy, when I discovered the creative side of gardening. The pure, unadulterated joy of pouring over seed catalogs in the dead of winter. Hey, it might be -20 degrees outside, but I knew… nay, I felt it in my heart, that under the heaps and mounds of snow, my friends the plants were sound asleep, dreaming flora dreams, just waiting for the first kiss of spring to awaken them. I began to see my yard as a canvas and plants as my artist’s pallet. Colors and textures comingled in any way I fancied. Pulling weeds and removing sod were a small price to pay for this ecstasy.

Sometimes I spend hushed time in my garden. Sometimes I play in it. But mostly, according to Tim, I full body garden! It’s become a housekeeping imperative that if I wish to maintain any standards of cleanliness in our home during gardening season, that I strip down to my birthday suit at the back door, leaving behind mud and assorted insects, as I run naked through the house free as a child, praying no one catches me in the act! There are few sensations that can compare to showering after a day in the garden, when the hot water beats against your aching back, and the smell of lavender soap reminds you of your garden’s promise.

So, I often spend the last moments of daylight in my garden… my cathedral. As Tim and I listen for the birds to depart, and the bats and lightning bugs to make their entrance, my garden, no our garden, fades into the shadows. But I know, when I awake tomorrow, and find myself being drawn to my garden, that God is waiting, in the place it all began.

What type of relationship do you have with your garden? Is it mystical, a means to an end, or something you avoid like the plague? (BTW... some of my best friends fall into the last category... it is not a personality flaw :)

Patchwork Pots Revisited

 

Here is a fun spring project that we have completed in the past. The Patchwork Pots make for wonderful Easter table decorations or Mother's Day gifts. It is a fun way to bring a little spring inside. You can find the directions here.

Poppies A Penty!


If you can believe it, I'm still sick. I've been watching this flu/cold change directions so many times I'm dizzy. Seems this week I've settled in to a nice case of laryngitis! Can't complain, though, I am feeling lots better than I did last week at this time! Having said all that, it has put me behind on many of my normal routines, including preparing the Gnome Home for the Spring. So, over the next few days, I will be helping Britta do a bit of Spring Cleaning, and decking the house for the coming months.

I was thinking that it was time to introduce some new flowers into our decorating. Today, I was playing around and happened upon some poppies. Actually, they turned out so pretty I can't wait to incorporate them into the Gnome Home. Here is a peak at the poppies. I'll have directions up before the end of the week! Maybe if I start thinking Spring, it will start warming up around here and my cold will finally go away!  In the meantime, Brrr! 

{this moment - chasing rainbows}

{this moment} - A Friday ritual began by Amanda at Soule Mama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment you want to pause, savor and remember.

Have a lovely weekend ~ Kimara and Michelle

Art Outside

After several days (or was it weeks?) of miserable heat and humidity that was making everyone cranky, the weather broke and we are now free to enjoy being outdoors again. We've spent hours outside in the last few days making up for lost time. Although Pixie loves being outside, she can't go long without her art supplies. This often includes water colors at the picnic table, sidewalk chalk on the front porch and now since my grandma's move and we have piles of packing paper she has added to the mix soy egg crayons on the driveway. She has been very busy coloring on a large scale and we now have many, many, many colorful sheets of paper that will make wonderful wrapping paper for all of our upcoming fall birthdays.

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