Breathing in Spring

My morning routine includes a peek outside from my front door.

I was thrilled at the color and sunlight emanating from this patch of lavender, alstroemeria and more lavender. At some angles, it looks like the sun is hugging the tops of the lavender. The neighbor's splash of pink blooms escalates the scene as do the remaining blossoms on the redbud trees.

Aren't the blooms of spring and their colors spectacular this season?

The calendar says fall. But the garden says spring.

These sweet Delphinium Elatum (Black Eyed Angels) debuted a few weeks ago and now, they're prolific alongside white Cosmos and a white Rose in my garden. They really are summer lights in my nighttime garden.

I was surprised by them coming up all together while the white rose finally bloomed. They must be in cahoots and remind me how much I love surprises, the garden and flowers beyond my dear Dahlias.

This year was my first real attempt at a Dahlia garden inspired by Charlie McCormick's Instagram displays. (See his fabulous dahlias in this article - look at the pinks, reds and corals!) His are magnificent and thoughtfully placed and grown. I had a long row of 12 against the edge of the garden facing sun. Pretty, but I may rethink position next year, hoping for the dense look of all the different varieties in reds and purples popping up together. A few new ones will arrive and I suppose I'll learn the art of dividing too. Ah, Dahlia's. But I digress.

I was considering fall. We've a pumpkin or two on the porch. Mums coming up in the different pots from a very intentional planting last year. (I had no idea they'd only require deadheading and are so prolific, blooming a couple of times a year.) Again, I digress.

Fall. White Delphinium, White Cosmos and White Roses. Lovely. Unexpected joy in the now-cool evenings. Time to sit and savor the last of the post- summer nights and enjoy the intrigue of the display.

Fall. Full of surprise.

AdventWord::Awaken

Awaken
Jesus calls us to live into the fullness of our humanity, to embrace what we, in our brokenness, experience as physical, psychic, or spiritual limitations. Jesus urges that, rather than seeking to be cured of our limitations, we ask God to heal us in them, and waken us to the spiritual gifts hidden in them.

-Br. Jonathan Maury

Not unlike the unfolding of the Narcissus. These were tucked in a bag, purchased in November and forgotten with a couple of ornaments. They tried to sprout, to grow. But they needed the light. They needed the water. 

All I need is a good book.

Part of both art classes, Sketchbookery and also the Journey of Letting Go, is making an art journal with Coptic binding.

For my first attempt, I worked with Mary Ann Moss's version, a Coptic watercolor book with a chevron binding.

I'm very happy about the process and the outcome. This is the outside view, of course, made with three inner signatures of hot pressed watercolor paper, bound with bookbinding thread and utilizing a book with a perfect cover but expendable pages.

It's an arduous process for sure. Thankfully, I didn't hear the part about not making the book in one day until I was sewing the chevrons through that binding tape. It's probably best that way. Completion is it's own reward.




When I finished, I shared it with anyone who would look. My clan is supportive, with the greatest supporter, my dear husband, who would like to buy one from my store. (I have no store.)


Later, I kissed all my people goodnight as they peeled off to go to bed and when the last was gone, I went into my kitchen studio area (that would be the kitchen table) and put some paint into the book.

I worked from a picture on my iPad taken of my treasured Hebe plants and christened the first page. It's a working book, a place where I can learn.

Hebes & the Hebe Society

Hebes are beautiful. Mine are just about this color with this wonderful vibrant magenta, and some lighter pink flowers. My friend MaryEllen loves them, which made me notice them all over again. Noticing is good.

It was a rather happy day in my happy little art space.

How about you? What are you painting?

Enough.

Gifts are lovely.
These are so sweet and beautiful, last week's Valentine's treat from my permanent boyfriend, my best friend, my husband, my Dear.

They (were and are) enough on that wild day of expectations.
And so is he.

Where are you finding enough? I'm curious.

November 29 - Giving Thanks:: the Kale Rose

And, as a garden lover, I will say, I'm always grateful for the plant someone else started. I will love these well as an addition to my front garden, welcoming friends; and to the life of my just-started Potager garden. (Can you hear the delight?)

Giving thanks - November 28:: a patch of dirt and a few seeds

There is much to be thankful for in a patch of dirt.
Inspiration.
Promise.
And in this case, Sweet Pea seeds.

A Thanksgiving weekend tradition celebrated at dark:30 on a Wednesday after morning.

Giving Thanks - November 16:: Brita for Inspiration

In the next town there's a beautiful garden store -- Brita's Old Town Gardens.

It's the store that inspires me to go beyond and seek new plantings and to love a mish mash of colors and always add this and that. (As long as they get the right sun and the right kind of soil.)

I doubt that Brita, a beautiful tall woman with joy exuding as she strolls the garden looking for just what you need, would remember our first meeting. I do. We'd moved into our first home. I knew a bit about gardening, but knew I wanted to know more. And there I was with a flower bed right in front of my living room window. All shade. I was determined to have flowers.

Brita helped find to helitropes and bleeding hearts.

I went to visit her this morning with a couple of tasks. First we had to pick a rose for a climbing wall, then, part shade flowers for beds to live with rooty birches. But the most fun was when I mentioned the Potager garden.

I have a very eclectic garden on the way there now, roses and strawberries and lavender.  But I'm ready to dive in with sweet peas and lettuces and cabbage, and, and, and. Her eyes lit up as we gathered from her stock and toured the lanes of her store grabbing the thymes, and mint and pansies and chard. She heard my love for the white rose next to the lavender, but not just for the color, for the uses and fragrances. She's the gardening friend, but really, the shopkeeper with zest and knowledge for what the garden can be.

I'm enthused about the next steps.

The best inspiration in film is Meryl Streep's potager in It's Complicated. Mine isn't quite this big and won't have the perfect rows, oh, and I don't look like Meryl Streep, nor am I married to Alec Baldwin - but you can believe the colors and joy of the mixture will be there. I love, love, love the tomatoes working up the frameworks. Tomatoes will have to wait while Sweet Peas meander up in mean time.

So, here's my Thanksgiving today: to Brita whose sea blue eyes sparkle and whose ideas breathe breeze into my project. And for the stylist who designed Ms. Streep's garden. To Alec Baldwin for standing there. And for my own Dear Husband, who keeps saying, "I'm glad your doing just what you want there, Dear."

I'm inspired and so grateful for the ones who join in.

The Farmers Market Day: Flowers

Yesterday I made a wonderful trip to the Santa Monica Farmer's Market. I promise to tell the whole story, right down to the grilled purple scallions we had for dinner.

But for now, for you, a few flowers:

It was almost impossible to walk away from the vibrant fragrance, life and color at just these stands.
Do you have a favorite?

February 22 - I Love:: These beauties

I love these Pincushion Flowers.

Scabiosas have a funny name, but boy, this plant has been providing sweet flowers since summer. And here they are in the midst of winter.
I love them in all their colors. I have these black ones (really kinda maroon), white, pink and lovely periwinkles. They make long lasting cut flowers too.

I love Scabiosas.

February 18 - I Love:: The Christmas Cactus

All right, it was a while ago, but this lovely cactus kept performing. Red and white blooms cheering my kitchen table. I love, blooms of all sorts.