Day In The Life of My Garden, June 2, 2010

Things are looking mighty fine at Chez Chaffee. Behold those poppies- every time they bloom they surprise me with their beauty. The Snow in Summer is a billowing mass of white loveliness.

My peonies are perfect. I suspect the rose chafers are on their way to wreck their beauty, but sigh.... enjoy them while I can




I am smitten with my new planter. I have been coveting these echeveria for years and finally splurged. The pink blush on those chubby leaves make me want to pinch them. But like one of little nieces I just reach down to plant a little smooch on them to express my admiration.

And here is the new arbor- installed! My Henry Kelsey roses need to get to work now.

Flowers!

One of my artists is an elderly gentleman who lives in Canada. I have spoken to him once and met him once, but we email every so often. He is an absolutely charming and delightful correspondent. As he slows down his physical world becomes smaller but I suspect he reaches out to more people, like myself, to stay engaged and pertinent in the world of the mind.

Also like myself, he is a gardener and enjoys watching his plants and flowers move through their cycles. Yesterday he wrote to me that "despite being a potter who should enjoy bringing in flowers to fill my vases I prefer to enjoy them outside. The only culture that knows how to bring flowers inside are the Japanese."

I have always been miserly about bringing flowers into my house so this statement made a lot of sense. My boyfriend is a bit of a bouquet fiend. I always claim to not have enough to share with his vases. I realize that my artist/correspondent has hit upon the true reason. Flowers are never as alluring as when found in their native habitat- springing naturally from their clumps, stems, whorls, branches & vines. In nature they are spaced ever so perfectly, whether that is symmetrically or randomly. They face in the appropriate direction- out, so as to catch the most light or the attentions of a pollinator. There is a balance of foliage to blossom that seems right.

I have also worked hard in my garden to position them next to the perfect backdrop or complimentary plant- orange poppies next to a blue spruce, exuberant Rudibeckia next to severely upright Karl Forester Miscanthus, silver Lamb's Ear interspersed with the dainty blossoms of Grape Hyacinth. How could a bouquet compete with that?

THAT being said, I have always felt the most successful bouquets were mostly fillers and greens to set off a few blossoms. Or- the exquisite placement of a single flower in an Ikebana vase.

Household Addition

Being in "the business" I occasionally receive gifts from artists. It isn't expected. I assume my role as a supporter of the arts is to purchase artwork like everyone else, but it is always a delightful surprise to receive a gift- especially the gift of art from an artist I respect.

This past week Fred Lynch gave me a small painting from his Division Series. This series is currently featured at the Portland Museum of Art in Maine. While my boyfriend is as big a fan of Fred as I am he was a little leery of squeezing one more piece into our home. Like two little old ladies we fussed with items, moved them two inches, changed plants, considered moving furniture and finally came to a conclusion.

The small painting came to rest on a trunk underneath a large painting by Fred of a pink rectangle. The new painting contains a little of the same pink making a connection to it. The new painting also has a some ruby color which related directly to the Gerry Williams to the left. And to top it off we moved a beautiful fine line porcelain plate by Rebecca Lucerio next to the whole lot.

The placement of all of these pieces gives me an overwhelming feeling of pleasure and rightness with the world. The exquisite rendering of the plate is similar but different from the nervous line of Fred's painting. The low-res images, unfortunately, don't give you a sense of their delicate precision. The grouping's colors relate but aren't so matchy-matchy that you think you walked into a Pottery Barn display. And there is a sense of historicity- a connection from past to future of this particular aesthetic trajectory.

Finding these connections is one of the most enjoyable parts of owning an art collection.

A Day In The Life Of My Garden, May 9, 2010

It has been a while since I have posted about my garden so this is just a little catch-me-up for those of you who care. Things are just beginning to take shape. We have a couple of below freezing nights predicted so the boyfriend is a mite afeared for the fruit trees which are in blossom right now. He also went out to pick all the asparagus that had poked its head through- better eaten than frozen.

There is a whole flock of pure purple Johnny-Jump-Up which is blooming its little fool heads off right now. As always it is a fabuloso contrast with the golden cypress. You might notice one stray sedum that ducked my hell bent for eradication trowel of death last summer- I just got sick of the cheap sedums from the grocery store showing up every spring full of promise - that only delivered a summer of heartbreak and mushy, withered stems.

Not too far from this complimentary color scheme are some last minute daffodils that are enhanced by the broad green back drop of rhubarb. Sometimes I think I like rhubarb more as a plantable than an edible. mmm, mm good no matter how you dish it up!

My purple smoke bush is just starting to show its colors- hope it doesn't get bitten by the frost the way it did last year. It is a particularly girly combination with the pink azalea and the fluffy ruffliness of the white iris in the foreground. Be still my fluttering heart!

And just because I have a camera in hand and this blog belongs to me I will inflict yet another season of Bleeding Heart on you! I love the bleeding heart but I am muy impressio'd by my Ladies Mantle. I dug up a plant that was swallowing a low slung sculpture and must have flung its seeds hither and yon. Now I have little plantlets everywhere- much to my avaricious delight. Nothing like too many plants to move and hoard.
Another shot of my Jane Kaufmann orb surrounded by pulmonaria and hostas getting ready to spread their wings. Right now they look like Piroulle cookies standing on end. Soon I will have to move the orb as the hosta are space hogs.

And here is what left of my disaster of a rose arbor. The wind finally did it in. The boyfriend bought me a new cedar one- but I need to make some concrete anchors so the wind doesn't do the same thing to it..... may find it a bit northeast of me in Goshen if it isn't properly battened down.
Enjoy!

The Big Wonder

I have been rolling these thoughts around in my head for several weeks and can't make sense of them still. They aren't hooking their carts up to other thoughts nor are they sorting themselves into the
appropriate cubby holes for future reference. Perhaps putting them down "on paper" will help.

A few weeks ago I was able to listen to the whole Speaking of Faith interview with Fr. Guy Consolmagno and Fr. George Coyne, two Jesuit monks who are astronomers with the Vatican Observatory. That is a sentence worth repeating and paying attention to- astronomers at the Vatican Observatory. Who knew there was an Observatory at the Vatican (or that they have an outpost in Arizona) or that there are monks with PhD's in Astronomy? I was also dumbfounded to learn that the Vatican Observatory has the largest collection of asteroids in the world.

What really grabbed me about this conversation between Krista Tippett and her two guests is how happy they both seemed. They were living their lives doing exactly what they wanted and were filled with joy while doing it. They both expressed awe and wonder at the world around them. Most astoundingly neither felt conflict in pursuing faith and hard science. The world was put before them to discover and more deeply understand their God.

This is not to say it was easy. Fr. Coyne said that faith is a daily struggle and not a given. He said there is an assumption by lay people that people of faith are sure of their beliefs. He stated that the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty.

Religion is something I have struggled with since my youth. As a young girl I questioned my church going neighbors, occasionally attended church with friends and replicated rituals I had learned at my first grade Catholic school with blocks for an alter and raisins to represent the body of Christ. In college I befriended Moonies and a feminist friend graduated to join a convent and move to South America. I was attracted to people with strong faith- much to the chagrin of my atheist Mom. I think I wanted to know more.

People of faith seem at peace with the world and the horrific things that happen. I could dismiss theirs as a simplistic view but I have to admit a bit of jealousy, and I think I am not alone in this jealousy. Many of the ideas from conventional religious faith have been co-opted by modern spiritual or secular humanist thought: be at peace with yourself, karma, ritual, communion, etc. But it seems stripped of the rigor of religious humanism. Why has this divide been created between spiritual journeying and the established religions?

I keep coming back to the two Jesuits who have reconciled their faith with the world around them, led productive lives, joined in the messy fray of human interaction and are joyful in the process. I am not sure this is something I can attain or if religion is a requirement to attain it. Or perhaps this is a lifelong quest.

Hellllooooo out there- any answers?

My Girl Orly

I dropped in to see my friend Annie- and her pooch Orly. Orly is a Briard who is 11 years old. She was one of my Golden Retriever's dearest walking buddies- as we would meet up most mornings for a brisk 1 mile walk. For a treat we might drive to an outer borough for a longer jaunt. As youngsters my Golden & Orly would race around biting each other and rolling on the ground. As they reached middle age this segued into companionable walking. They were just happy to be in each other's company - no interaction necessary.

Lady died at the young 7 years of age. Annie listened to me cry and Orly put her paw on my lap. She missed Lady too, but she was always happy to see me and soon welcomed my new pooch, Henry.

She was happy to see me this time too. She got her weak back legs underneath her and came as she heard my voice in the front yard. We spent an hour looking at the new sod, peas coming up and lolling on the grass with the dogs. I noticed that Orly's breathing was a bit raggedy and Annie squeaked out that she"just wasn't ready for this."

I remember saying the exact same thing as I negotiated the week that started at the vets and ended at a surgeons. Contemplating the death of a companion is difficult, doubly so when you have to make that final decision- when your companion can't speak for themselves. Watching Annie negotiate these same decisions brings tears to my eyes now. In some ways it was easier for me because Lady was clearly in the end zone and my decision was to pick which hour instead of which week. I can see that no one is ever ready for this decision whether a life is cut tragically short or it has been lived to a full and natural conclusion. That pain of loss is just as full.

My thoughts are with Annie, Orly and anyone else struggling with these decisions.

New Summer Do

The weather has been so warm here in New Hampshire that it seemed the right time to give Henry his new summer do. This is a procedure fraught with wrestling, stern voices and much skittering around in the front entry that I close off to keep him from escaping. I use to take him to a groomer but these tough economic times forced me to buy my own clippers and experience the struggle first hand. Here he is with the new clip. I like to keep it a little long around his face so he doesn't look too ridiculous. He has a very long, thin snout.

After the clip comes the bath. I have found it easier to just take him into the shower with me. He hates showers about as much as he hates hair cuts. There is no struggling, just cowering. After a quick dry I let him loose to shake off and run away from me. He usually tries to find a sunny spot- even though it was 70 degrees! This is his "I want a new owner" face.

Now for the blow out!