FURBALL COTTAGE NARRATIVE

CONFIRMATION FLOWERS

2011-10-29T22:02:00.000-07:00

In they filed, all attitude; boredom written all over their young faces. Five girls and two boys. A snowy morning in October and they're stuck in a Sunday School classroom instead of being cozy at home in their pajamas. Two church ladies waiting for them with two toilet plungers stuck in plaster of Paris. No beginning could have been less exciting. Breaking the ice took some doing. Talk of color wheels or elements of floral design was not even considered. Hands-on would be more like it. "Volunteers" selected, ideas shared, a great plopping accident - broken oasis ball - a very good example of "be prepared because stuff will happen". Hot glue guns, Spanish moss, coiled moss converting the plungers into something like nests... Uhm... maybe this isn't so bad after all... One of the comments: "We have flowers in church every Sunday? I never noticed".

Less than two hours later this group had created two magnificent arrangements to decorate the Sanctuary where they were confirmed on Sunday. They were so proud of their achievement! They accomplished this with very little guidance from the "church ladies".

What never ceases to fascinate me is how the boys, who are always so reluctant to get involved with flowers, are the ones who really become serious about it.

I have a feeling that from now on these young men and women will notice the flowers in the Sanctuary.

Soli Deo Gloria

COBALT BLUE III

2011-10-08T09:38:00.000-07:00

A summer Saturday full of fun. Gardens to visit and judge and enjoy. Good company. Three 'girls' running around the Philadelphia area, stopping at yard sales and even at a salvage store. Finding treasures in unexpected places. A little community church fundraising on the sidewalk in one of those almost scary neighborhoods, but not to worry, girls, you're with me, a smile, a couple of friendly words in Spanish and... what's that over there??? It's blue! It's cobalt blue! Yes, and we're selling it for cinco dólares. Oh joy! Of course you're coming home with me, blue bottle, I'll find a place for you among all the other blue glass that accentuates nature at Furball Cottage. The choice was right. It's been a happy summer.

PINK FLAMINGOES

2011-10-01T20:33:00.000-07:00

OK, one plastic pink flamingo is definitely a garden no-no, but A FLOCK is a statement. Ironic? Fun? Whatever. Found them a K-Mart. End of season cheap. Had to bring them to Furball Cottage. Almost got served divorce papers by the purist in my life. He said they had to migrate south, pronto. Then I showed him the box. Made in the USA, in Atlanta, to be specific. How many things at K-Mart are made in the USA? Begrudgingly they're staying in the marsh for now. They'll spend the winter in the garden shed and come spring... well, what if I count them as part of the great migration and send the numbers to the Cape May Bird Observatory? They're American birds and they're staying.

MEDICINE FOR THE SOUL

2011-05-19T08:13:00.000-07:00

Rosa Mr. Lincoln

Sniffle, cough, hack, sniffle, sneeze, shivers, feverish... That was me last Tuesday. A drizzling, cold, gray day. What old ladies in Britan call "filthy weather'. Running from the car to the front door I was greeted by a magnificent view! The Mr. Lincolns that grow by the grace of God without much care from this gardener were offering me a show of warmth, color and grace in the midst of all that misery. Ran into the house, grabbed the secateurs, put on the slicker and wellies and ran back into the garden before the glorious color could be damaged by the threatening thunderstorms. Glad I did, oh yes, so glad. They have been my comfort and joy for the last two days while I wallow in bed with the flu and thunderstoms and even a small tornado rage outside. Thank you, Mr. Lincoln, after all these years you still know how to deliver peace and harmony to a disrupted world.

MEMORIES

2011-05-15T16:38:00.000-07:00

Rooting through an old folder I discovered this postcard of the Philadelphia Flower Show. It must be at least 20 years old as the show was still at the old -now demolished- Civic Center in University City. Those were the days of the escalator that brought the crowds down from the icky winter weather into a magic realm of fragrance and color. Nobody who experienced it will ever forget it. Little did I suspect then that one day I'd be the Chair of Competitive Classes or that my garden club would win the first perfect score in the history of the Flower Show. Which reminds me... I must keep on rooting around to find the pictures of that great exhibit "El Patio de Carmelita" and share it here. And the little green shed that appears on this postcard? It's still the background, after all these years, of the Tulip Society's exhibit. Year after year. Never changing and always different. That's the power of flowers.

ICE

2011-01-29T18:44:00.000-08:00

You know that winter is getting to you when you start looking for shapes in the icicles. I'm glad I found you, little horse, you remind me of the great chalk figures that dot the hills of Britain. Maybe one icy day a couple of millennia ago a woman was as tired of winter as I am, she looked out of her cave and there you were! A perfect ice horse! She kept your image in the back of her mind and started working on your portrait on a magnificent scale as soon as the thaw was over. Then, many, many centuries later, perhaps a man named Pablo saw your very simple lines on an icy Paris day and thought of portraying your simplicity. Nature. Ice. Dead of winter. Art.

CELEBRATION

2011-01-09T13:33:00.000-08:00

Second Sunday of the Epiphany season. Celebrating the Baptism of Jesus. Of course you need white flowers. Of course they have to look like they're praising the Lord. Of course you have to find them in the middle of a snowstorm and take them to church while slipping and sliding. This tropical flower was able to do all that and shovel the driveway to boot! The mums are like starbursts or fireworks. To counterbalance the stiffness of the stems, bells of ireland, that curve in whatever direction they want and there's no controlling them and variegated liriope (lilyturf) leaves which are very stiff until you stroke them gently for a little while, then they become supple, pliable, curvy and interesting. No snide remarks, please, this is a Church arrangement. An airy arrangement with lots of negative space to fill the air with song. I do believe that it looks like a prayer, like praise, like thanks. Amen.

Buche de Noel

2010-12-27T17:56:00.000-08:00

Christmas was just around the corner when I realized that my reliable Buche de Noel purveryor had closed her little French bakery. What to do? I had to create my very own and it wasn't hard at all. Bought a deliciously moist jelly roll and decorated it with gusto. Now that I got the knack of it and after looking at some outstanding examples on the internet, I can see this becoming a new Christmas tradition at Furball Cottage. I may even think of making enough for friends and family. Put your name down on the list if you're interested. Remember, Christmas 2011 is just around the corner.

A ROSE OF SUCH VIRTUE

2010-12-21T08:47:00.000-08:00

Advent is NOT Christmas. No time yet for carols and merry-making. Advent is a season of expectation where the cold, dry, dead-seeming earth is waiting for the arrival of the LIGHT. We are all expecting.... the Mother has not yet met her Divine Child. The Mother... The Rose of Such Virtue, the rose that bare Jesu: Alleluia. In this rose contained was Heaven and earth in little space.

Res Miranda [miracle of miracles]. That was the theme for our church's choir concert last Sunday. The Cantor, David Harp, asked me to do the flowers to adorn the sanctuary, a great honor. And a little later he also asked me to read two poems during the concert. Gulp! For the flowers we decided on something stark and dramatic representing the rose that blooms in winter. Two arrangements for the two front corners of the altar plus two swags hanging from the reredos. I think the results speak for themselves. The reading was harrowing but well worth the effort to hear the Rev. Tim Wengert say to me later: "Hearing you read is like going to a gourmet restaurant, to savor every word". Oh my!

MY (TEACUP) RUNNETH OVER

2010-12-02T20:04:00.000-08:00

Antique/vintage English teacups provided by David VanSciver for our class last night. Everybody's design was lovely, lots of spray roses - dark and light pink - something called 'ground pine' never seen before but a fabulous filler and it will last almost forever. All too ladylike for me... had to jazz it up... A spool of cool wire, some strange, shimmery fiber you pull with your fingers and attach wherever you want bling. Would this work for a New Year's table? Oh, you bet it would!

God's Polka Dots

2010-12-01T22:49:00.000-08:00

AN OLD CROCK

2010-11-27T19:11:00.000-08:00

Several years ago, a friend gave me her collection of stoneware crocks, nine in total, which I added to a couple of very old ones given to me by another friend. Never could do anything floral with them. Didn't feel like doing the old cliché of dried grasses or great bunches of daisies, so they just stayed in the garden shed catching dust and serving as homes for winter mice. When David VanSciver asked us to bring a troublesome but rustic container to our second lesson, I immediately knew what I should take. This crock is not tall enough for its height and nothing had ever looked good in it until now. The seed pods helped quite a bit and the colors blended nicely. Thanks, David, for the wonderful seedpods and for waking up this old crock from a long slumber. Oh, and the angled stuff is equisetum (horse tail) from my garden.

BEHOLD THE POWER OF LANDSCAPING

2010-11-27T07:48:00.000-08:00

Before

After

A little bit of cardboard, some glitter, a few hours of boredom... A putz is built. Once finished, the little house looks forlorn in its snowy field surrounded by its picket fence. As in real life, a house without a garden is like a body without a soul. So here comes a bit of dried-up moss... still something is missing... trees! Two snippets from my beloved cryptomeria japonica that died this summer due to the merciless drought. Now the wee inhabitants of this chalet can smile and I'm sure there will be smoke coming out of the chimney as soon as they settle down in their new abode. Good night.

ROOTS AND ALL

2010-11-11T19:17:00.000-08:00

Looking for interesting ideas for a design on a windowsill at the HUMC Harvest Festival, of course I went to the thrifty woman's flower emporium, the nearest Produce Junction. After looking at the unispiring variety of cut flowers, I fell in love witht the amazing colors of this calla lily and the rest, as they say, is history. The dish is from the fifties, found at some thrift shop or garage sale long ago. Never used before, waiting for its perfect complement. No way I was going to cut those flowers, so decided instead to use the whole plant, roots and all, add mosses and lichens and let it all hang out. A stiff backing of liatris was all that was needed. I enjoyed the puzzled expression of so many people who stopped over and seemed to wonder if this was a mistake, a broken pot, an unfinished work. A card explained it all: "A Naturalistic Design" Hopefully at least a few read it and learned something new.

ONE WEEK AND COUNTING

2010-11-11T13:34:00.000-08:00

David Van Sciver is a retired Methodist minister. His reverence for God is wondrous to witness. There's something else that makes David tick: FLOWERS.

We met through flowers and pretty much talk through flowers~ the never-ending conversation.

Some years ago he founded the Floral Arts Guild in his church in Haddonfield. This has grown and grown, has a great workshop-cum-gift shop, a fabulous refrigeration system that would be the envy of many a professional florist, and a corps of lovely volunteers that make every Sunday a marvel in the Sanctuary.

David, like any gardener worth his salt, loves to share. He does this by teaching and spreading the gospel of flowers througout this area. His classes start at 6:30 PM or thereabouts and end when the last student is gone. Last night I left close to 11:00 and there were still several ladies working on their arrangements.

I am learning all kinds of tricks and techniques that are never shared at the Philadelphia Flower Show or anywhere else. I'm also learning the ins and outs of keeping a church flower guild moving in the right direction. Sheer willpower and dedication have to be the first two items.

This little all-green arrangement comes from our first class, one week ago yesterday. The photo was taken right before going to the second class and as you can see, the flowers are still fresh. Well, that's one of the tricks! More information in future postings. Stay tuned.

THE FLOWER GIRL'S BASKET

2010-11-09T04:02:00.000-08:00

Bernie and Duane lost their spouses some years back. They met in church and fell in love. It was a joy to watch them as they slowly realized how much they cared for each other. Their wedding was this June and I had the pleasure to do their flowers. Here is the flower basket I made for Bernie's granddaughter. It is very easy and inexpensive to make. If you want details, leave a message in this blog. After the fresh flowers die, the basket will last for years, kind of a metaphor for these two love birds.

A GARDEN IN A DRESS

2010-11-05T22:58:00.001-07:00

Late 1950's.

By government decree, every woman had to march at a huge rally honoring the dictator. All had to wear white dresses, shoes, gloves, summer hats. My mother had her seamstress make her a linen dress with mother-of-pearl buttons down the bodice. Before the dress was assembled, Mother took it to a lovely Chinese woman in the tiny Chinatown in Santo Domingo. This lady hardly spoke Spanish, but through signs and my mother's own design, flowers bloomed all over the bodice and pockets. There were calendars on the walls of this lady's tiny shop. One showed gorgeous, smiling Chinese girls carrying parasols and wearing sinuous silk dresses with high collars. Another had illustrations of strange, steep mountains coming out of the water. As a seven-year-old I made up my mind that Chinese artists didn't know what they were doing because obviously no mountain could look like that. This year I went to Guilin and sailed around those strange mountains and for the first time in over fifty years thought of that Chinese woman and her embroidery machine in a sultry little room in the middle of the Caribbean. The dress was gorgeous. My mother was gorgeous when she wore it. She didn't wear it the day of the rally. She was "sick" that morning and had to stay home. No member of my family would ever appear at a government rally and shout vivas to the tyrant. There are many ways to resist tyranny, I don't know how many of them require a new linen dress. This one has resided in my closet for many years to remind me of my beautiful mother and her indomitable spirit.

Who are you?

2010-10-18T07:53:00.001-07:00

Squirrels have developed a bizarre appetite for certain compounds not found in nature. Fiberglass, which is used to create molded decorative elements impervious to weather, has become one of their favorite fast foods. I don't know if the squirrels die after such a diet, but the lovely statue of Budha, a gift to the garden by Cristina and Freddy de Castro, succumbed under the rodents' newfangled passion. After disposing of what was left of Budha, the space where he had stood for several years looked desolate but the idea of replacing him with just any old pot was unthinkable. On a shopping foray at Ross [dress for less, uhuh] I spied this blue, perfectly coiffed and bejweled entity. He smiled at me from high atop a shelf. I reached to touch him and realized he was pottery... squirrel-proof though most probably not frost-proof. Love at first sight. I looked up the price - since our trip to China I've been rather thrifty- oh baby, the price was right. He came home with me. Again there is a focal point on that crucial axis. He is not cobalt blue like everything else at Furball Cottage. Instead he is a turquoise color that brightens up the shady spot. As I'm a crazy lover of turquoise jewelry, this was a double mitzvah. Now I'd like to ask... who are you? What deity do you represent? Are you a young Gautama? Were you copied from some ancient temple in India? Will I ever discover your identity? Or are you just a melange of symbols made in China to feed the insatiable hunger for consumer goods of the American public?

How Sweet is This?

2010-10-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

The ladies from the National Cathedral Flower Guild charmed us all at the Harvest Festival celebrated this Saturday at the magnificent Methodist Church in Haddonfield. In the morning they gave us a demonstration on how to do fabulous church flowers in what seemed no time at all. In one and a half hours they made four enormous designs plus three smaller ones. What talent! After lunch there was a hands-on workshop where we made these adorable topiaries. Although the plant material was the same, no two came out the same. And that, in a nutshell, is the joy of flowers.

AD MAJOREM GLORIA DEI

2010-10-14T07:36:00.001-07:00

What could be more rewarding than giving flowers to the glory of God? After all, He is the creator of all our wealth. All we're doing is giving it back to HIM. Everything but the little gourds in this arrangement and its twin came from the gardens at Furball Cottage and went to adorn the sanctuary at Saint Matthew Lutheran Church in Moorestown. Let us give thanks for the bounty His generosity has bestowed upon us. All Glory to Him now and forever. Amen.

2010-10-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

ON FIRE!

Fall arrived in all its glory. The fire bush [euonymus alata] looked magnificent. Call the firemen, my garden is on fire! Well, that was exactly one year ago. This year the drought has destroyed its beauty, branches have cracked and several of its neighbors, including a spectacular cryptomeria japonica which will have to be cut down. I'll have to enjoy pictures from years past because this summer was a bummer.

FLAVOR EXPLOSION

2009-11-16T07:42:00.000-08:00

The pomegranates have arrived!

Where could anybody find a most sensual fruit? Well, there's always guavas and mangoes, but in this latitude, finding these luscious flavor bombs in the market is always a red banner day. The Spanish word for this beautiful fruit is GRANADA, and that is also the word for hand grenade. I can see it so clearly... an explosion of flavor inside your mouth. Close your eyes, fill the passion running on your tongue. You are eating rubies. Enjoy them while they last, which is not a long time. For those who have asked me how to eat a pomegranate: Slice off the top with a knife, break the fruit with your fingers. Remove the seeds. Put a handful of seeds in your mouth and press with your tongue onto your palate. I recommend you don't wear white clothes while you do this. The juice will run and spot everything. Maybe eating them naked would be more appropriate. Throw a fistful of seeds into the mouth of your naked eating partner... Uhm... I have the feeling this could turn pornographic if I go on... And remember... not only is it sexy to eat a pomegranate, it's also chuck full of antioxidants. A new friend advised me that squeezing the juice of a pip into the eyes will cure conjunctivitis (pink eye). I can think of more ways to eat this juicy, sweet, full-flavored gem, but I've had enough titillation for one day. Have a satisfying experience!

RAPTOR IN THE GARDEN

2009-11-13T06:33:00.001-08:00

A flurry of activity inside and outside Furball Cottage. I'm flying to get ready and leave for a court assignment. The birds outside are chattering and flying about sending distress signals. Must explore the situation. The judge can wait. Right there, by the window, perched on a branch of the old cherry tree, a hawk! No time for binoculars or identification guide, just rush for the camera and try to get as good as shot as possible. Of course he turned his head at the last moment and, sensing the clicks, only allowed two exposures. His claws, however, tell the whole story. Bright yellow in the early autumnlight, those prehensile toes and hooked black nails, perfect for the purposes of capturing prey and ripping it apart. What a magnificent creature. The birds may not like you, Mr. Hawk, but you're always welcome in my garden, especially if you go after the squirrels, moles and chipmunks. Oh, and by the way, I made it in time for court, although I had already rehearsed my apology: "Your Honor, unavoidably detained by raptor".

WAIT TILL NEXT YEAR!

2009-10-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

Bud of Viburnum 'Eskimo' / Snowball tree

They are gone forever, or so you'd think if you didn't know better. In reality they're just hiding and will explode again next spring in all their glorious force and blow off our eyeballs and minds with their tremendous beauty. Here they are, lurking and waiting to surprise us in just a few months.

For now, we wait, and huddle around the fire and count our blessings as one season leaves and another approaches.
We are alive. We have made it through another summer, another year, and so have they. O that we may be just as resilient and assured of what is to come as they are!

Buds of Cornus florida / Dogwood

Buds of Hydrangea quercifolia / Oak leaf hydrangea

SOUVENIR

2009-10-23T20:57:00.000-07:00

Josephine Bonaparte was born and raised in the Caribbean. She had a penchant for roses and gardens and clothes. Those are pretty much our only similarities. She married a short man; I married a tall one. She was an Empress. I rule my own kingdom in half an acre. This faded oak-leaf hydrangea reminded me of Josephine. Malmaison, her house outside Paris, is now a museum that shows many of her personal belongings. Besides being a flirt, she was a tender and good-hearted woman and I'm convinced she would have loved these subdued tones. She faded rapidly after her divorce and died pining for her "Petit General". This blossom would have made a perfect offering at her grave.

OCTOBER LIGHT

2009-10-23T20:41:00.001-07:00

Yes, it is richer and warmer and more complex than any other light at any other time of the year. It envelopes and caresses like a lover's last passionate embrace before a long voyage. If you keep your eyes wide open, you will see what's coming right behind it. But for now, all you want to do is cling to it, cover your skin with its warmth and hope against hope that it will never leave you.

NANDINA AND HER BERRIES

2009-10-23T20:32:00.000-07:00

Nandina domestica / Heavenly bamboo. Will grow anywhere, from Tucson to Siberia. Full sun to shade. And those berries...! Think of the flower arrangements! A true winner. As resilient and graceful as the Philadelphia Phillies, who, by the way, are going to the World Series next week! Go Phillies!

A THING OF BEAUTY

2009-10-23T20:11:00.001-07:00

Callicarpa dichotoma / Beautyberry. Need I say more? Graceful branches arching down covered in the most astonishing, metallic purple. Not a birds' favorite, so they add color for a little longer in Furball Cottage's Fall garden.

BERRIES NOW, BEFORE THEY GET DISAPPEARED

2009-10-23T19:47:00.001-07:00

Ilex verticillata/Winterberry. OK, here's the drill: Take a very good look at them now, because if you blink, they'll be gone. It happens every year. The birds adore these berries and they disappear in a matter of hours. I have seen pictures of snowy fields punctuated by brigh red berries on the bushes and ask myself whether there are birds anywhere near. In my garden, flocks of robins feast on them so quickly that I had to shoo them away with a broom in order to take these pictures. It;s a mixed blessing, but just for once, I'd love to see them against a fresh snowfall. Dream on.

SURROUNDED!

2009-10-23T19:26:00.001-07:00

Yes, Furball Cottage is surrounded with color! A magic palette has emerged overnight! Wherever I look there's mind-blowing brightness. Autumn in the Northeastern United States never disappoints.

OCTOBER SKY

2009-10-23T19:15:00.000-07:00

Be dazzled. Bedazzled. Become dazzled. No other sky holds so much promise. The way everything, yes, dazzles under this slanting sun, the clarity wherever you look, the cloudless eternity of that patch of blue. There will be dark days ahead, but this sky will keep its brightness in my mind's eye long after October has given way to the frigid months ahead.

MORNING GLORY

2009-10-23T19:05:00.000-07:00

Late summer's special treat. Wake up and say it, Morning Glory/Evening Grace. Ipomoeas exist all over the world, I have seen them blooming in ancient crags in Crete and Dubrovnik, on empty beaches in Samaná and Maine, under lamp posts in Philadelphia and Cairo, usually a washed-out purple color. But this beauty, this glorious blue of the morning sky that fills my eyes with Heaven and my soul with gratefulness, climbs and clambers and roams until it reaches my window and peeks in. Could anybody want a better way of waking up?

HARVEST FRUIT

2009-10-23T18:53:00.000-07:00

All of a sudden the light changes, there's a different feel in the air. Not chilly yet, but the warmth seems to be saying goodbye. The slant of sunshine that enters my window in the morning is brighter and lower. There's a sense of anticipation. Not one leaf has turned color and yet I know that soon there will be a riot of color all around me. The desire for summer's bounty recedes. That delicious watermelon does not appeal; there's no interest in cherries or peaches. My tastebuds yearn for the honeyed mellowness of a fig... the crisp grit of a pear. Autumn is in my heart before it manifests itself in the world.

ICEBERG ROSE

2009-08-13T14:16:00.000-07:00

This has to be the toughest of all floribundas when it actually survives in my garden in New Jersey withouth coddling, extra watering, or chemicals. Lovely fragrance. Bunches of 7 or more buds per branch start blushing pink and open to perfect white. Can take any kind of abuse and looks great in simple summer arrangements.

SWANNING RIGHT ALONG

2009-08-06T19:43:00.001-07:00

Lysimachia clethroides - gooseneck loosestrife - swimming across the flower border, who knows how far it will go by next spring!

COBALT BLUE II

2009-08-06T19:35:00.001-07:00

BLINK! WINK!

COBALT BLUE I

2009-08-05T20:05:00.000-07:00

It is a color not found in nature and that's why it shows so beautifully in the garden.

More to come.

OVERGROWN

2009-07-29T06:57:00.001-07:00

Just the way the butterflies and hummingbirds like it!

GATE TO PARADISE

2009-07-29T06:42:00.001-07:00

LIBELULA

2009-07-28T10:44:00.000-07:00

One of the signs of a healthy garden.

GHOST

2009-07-28T10:24:00.000-07:00

Female ruby-throated hummingbird feeding on monarda dydima

SHADOW PLAY

2009-07-28T10:20:00.000-07:00

WAITING TO BE ARRANGED!

2009-07-28T06:32:00.000-07:00

You tell me, do they really need arranging?

ANOTHER NECTAR BAR

2009-07-20T13:27:00.000-07:00

Butterfly and hummingbird delight. Monarda dydima,

aka bergamot is in the mint family (square stems), grows with abandon, loves the summer heat and spreads around wherever it pleases. The leaves have a lovely , strong, fragrance and can be dried and used in teas and poptpourri. Another winner at Furball Cottage. The hummigbirds fight each other over these blossoms. Just look at those flower bracts (pseudo petals). They're meant for hummingbirds' tongues!

BLOOMING BUFFET

2009-07-20T13:10:00.000-07:00

First come the bees and the butterflies for the nectar and then, when the color is gone and they look ready to be cut down, the goldfinches arrive in flocks and paint the sky with yellow and gold and eat the seeds and make my heart rejoice! I'd say that's what a true all-seasons plant should be all about.

DEWDROPS

2009-07-20T08:29:00.000-07:00

On a very fragrant hosta flower...

HUMMINGBIRDS WELCOME!

2009-07-20T08:21:00.001-07:00

Jewelweed is loved by hummingbirds. This is a wild flower that has been growing and thriving in my garden for several years. It's in the impatiens family but it's very tall. I didn't plant it, but I'm glad it found me! Right now the hummers are buzzing all over the garden having a feast on this and the other hummingbird-friendly blooms out there.

HOT, HOT, HOT!

2009-07-20T08:13:00.000-07:00

A perfect verbena ball of fire!

A RESIDENT

2009-07-20T08:08:00.000-07:00

They eat the cherries and the acorns, they dig all over the place, they're pretty brazen, but they're oh, so cute!

TREASURES

2009-07-20T08:04:00.000-07:00

The Treasures you Find when you Dig in the Garden!

CARMEN SEURAT

2009-07-20T07:41:00.000-07:00

So many little dots!

CARMEN CEZANNE

2009-07-20T07:34:00.000-07:00

He painted fruit, you know.

2009-07-20T07:29:00.000-07:00

BIRTHDAY FLOWERS MAKE JULY SPECIAL

SUMMER AFTERNOON

2009-07-02T14:35:00.001-07:00

As it has been said before, the two most beautiful words in the English language. SUMMER AFTERNOON. No matter how hectic the schedule or busy the mind, undone tasks put aside without a hint of remorse. Touching the sweet, green grass, lying down on its softness, looking up at the bright blue sky and slowly, oh so very slowly... finding the shapes in the clouds. SUMMER AFTERNOON. A peaceful memory to carry me through whatever the months ahead may bring. SUMMER AFTERNOON. It's worth repeating once again. So go ahead, say it.

SUMMER PUDDING

2009-06-22T19:30:00.000-07:00

If you're like me, you'd prefer digging in the garden to tinkering in the kitchen. The perfect recipe should have five ingredients or less and one of them must be water. So here's an easy dessert that looks beautiful and tastes divine. It's my adaptation of the 'puddings' I have loved at the Henley Royal Regatta. This is a poor people's dessert, so I don't know how it made it to such an exalted location. There are no measurements - follow your heart and enjoy the results.

1 loaf day-old white bread summer berries (blackberries, blueberries,

sugar or Splenda to taste raspberries, strawberries)

1 packet gelatine summer fruit sliced very thin or

chopped very small

Butter the inside of a bowl. Remove the crust off all bread slices and butter one side. Line the bowl with the bread slices. Leave no gaps.

Cook the fruit with the sugar or Splenda until it's all mushy and beautifully colored like rubies on the headdress of a maharani. Add gelatine. One tablespoon of cherry Jell-o will also work. Pour into the bread-lined bowl. Cover with the rest of the bread slices. Push it down with something heavy like a brick. Cover with plastic wrap or a kichen towel. Refrigerate overnight. If you're brave, which I'm not, unmold it into a serving dish. Otherwise, just slice it from the bowl and serve with Devonshire cream (Wegman's) or vanilla ice cream. Bask in the compliments.

2009-05-23T06:15:00.000-07:00

CAMELLIAS

No fragrance, almost impossible to work with in flower arrangements, nevertheless, what jolt of beauty in the garden when almost everything is still bare! My four bushes are named, but right now the varieties escape me. I've just enjoyed their flashing, colorful display, mostly from a window as the days were so cold and drizzly. The bushes were covered in color, the branches hanging from their weight of blooms. It is a cliché, I know, but still, what a sight for sore, wintry eyes.

2009-05-22T07:27:00.000-07:00

QUINCEAÑERAS

I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling this: whenever I see a magnificent oriental peony [this one is Sangu Kiku] I think of those fantastic Latin American celebrations for girls when they turn fifteen. Yes, I had mine too, and I was tempted to post my pictures here, but really, as time goes on, they become more and more elaborate, expensive, over the top. This peony reminds me not only of my own birthday dance party but of all the skirts and crinolines and ruffles my young aunts wore in the 50's. Christian Dior came up with his 'New Look' after WWII. I wonder if he was inspired by an Oriental peony

A BLESSING FOR THE GARDEN

2009-05-22T07:19:00.000-07:00

Finally the rain has stopped and the gardener must get to work. Backaches will certainly ensue. Deep digging and heavy lifting are not for sissies.

This statue was a surprise gift from Cristina and Freddy de Castro. Freddy thought it should face not only the garden gate but also the guest room window and so it does.

The truest blessing is cultivating a garden of friends and sharing them with others.

RAINY DAY AT FURBALL COTTAGE

2009-05-05T09:19:00.000-07:00

It's been raining for days. Good for the garden; not for the gardener who cannot go out and dig and pull and say hello to her little friends she hasn't seen since last spring. So what's left is to take pictures from the windows or wait for the rain to stop for a few moments and snap a shot or two. The pink lawn is not covered with flowers. Those are the petals of the cherry tree that the rain brought down. The house looks smothered by the viburnum opulus with its green snowballs and the white dogwood that the birds planted by the window. From the house it feels as if you're inside a cloud. The Buda Cat is a constant companion and the birds are not afraid of him. He is a serene reminder of our beloved Percy the Sweet Babboo whom we lost last September. Rain is good. I'd love to see some rainbows, though, and a few rays of sunshine peeking through these clouds.

THE ALLURE OF GREEN FLOWERS

2009-05-05T02:37:00.000-07:00

Nobody is indifferent to green flowers. Some, like me, love them, plant them and use them as much as possible in flower arrangements. Others are incensed if not downright insulted by Mother Nature's blatant lack of common sense. A green flower! Who'd think of such a thing? Leaves are green, but flowers have to be red or pink or yellow or whatever. Here we have three of my favorites. They thrive at Furball Cottage, where nothing is ever coddled and plants have to fight it out. The winner stays. That's always been the plan. Viburnum opulus is bending right now under the weight of so many green snowballs. Viburnum plicatum tomentosum 'Mariesii' or double-file viburnum is majestic once the flowers turn from green to white and it can be seen from our bedroom at night if there is a full moon [and there will be one at the perfect time this year]. Helleborus orientalis [lenten rose] started blooming in January and is still going strong. There are a gazillion seedlings all around my hellebores. They also will have to fight it out. Whoever wins will need a new home soon enough. Any takers?

agapanthus

2009-05-04T09:48:00.000-07:00

Dear, all-knowledgeable about flowers Rene Torres has reminded me that no matter what the 'marchantas' call them in the DR, agapanthus are not lilies. They're summer bulbs. But we knew that, didn't we? When I first did my posting it was like 2:00 in the morning and I called them panthenotis! Thanks to Rene, this has been rectified. Now if he'd really go to the blog Generation Y and see what's happening in Cuba, I'd die happy. Gracias, René. MC

2009-05-04T06:13:00.000-07:00

A friend has mentioned that her father used to quote Omar Khayyam often. What a treat! It is also a treat how he is able to fit in Spring, Moses and Jesus in one verse. Was he a Zoroastrian? Was he a Moslem? I know he did much work in algebra, which should be a reason for me to hate him as they had to burn the school to get me out of algebra I. Any comments?

2009-05-03T21:46:00.000-07:00

Agapanthus.. Blue blossoms so hard to find. Not much luck in sultry New Jersey, but these were everywhere in Johannesburg, South Africa. Johannesburg is as high as Denver, so I'm wondering if that thinner air would make a difference compared to our unbearably hot and humid summers. Or maybe it's the longer growing season there. The flower vendors in the Dominican Republic call agapanthus Lirio-panty. Panty-lilies, that's something anyone will remember. They are grown in the hills of Jarabacoa and Constanza, so again, lighter air, nicer temperatures.

2009-05-03T18:48:00.000-07:00

O love, how green the world, how blue the sky!
And we are living --- living --- you and I!
Ah, when the sun shines and our love is near,
'Tis good to live, and very hard to die.

2009-05-03T18:28:00.000-07:00

For spring is here, with all his ancient fires,

Quick with old dreams, and thrilled with new desires,

Vowed to repent, yet sure to sin again --

O leave repentance to your withered sires!

O listen, love, how all the builders sing!

O sap! O song! O green world blossoming!

White as the hand of Moses blooms the thorn,

Sweet as the breath of Jesus comes the spring.

Spring, with the cuckoo-sob deep in his throat,

O'er all the land his thrilling whispers float,

Old earth believes his ancient lies once more,

And runs to meet him in a golden coat.

Omar Khayyam - XI century