MEDICINE FOR THE SOUL

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

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

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

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

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



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

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!