Pining for Peonies

"This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready to break my heart as the sun rises, as the sun strokes them with his old buttery fingers."

- Mary Oliver

I pick May as my favorite month in the  garden, and Peonies are no small part of that decision.

There are more than 30 species and many hybrids and cultivars to choose from, but my peonies have all chosen me, shared by friends, rescued from forgotten gardens and transplanted from the backyards of parents and grandparents. Some day I am  going to figure out just what varieties I do have, but when the peonies begin blooming I usually find myself lost in the task of  just enjoying them .

T

Early in May the tree peonies bloom, with blossoms so blowsy and big the stems can hardly hold them up. 
Happy in a partly shady spot, they stand tall and graceful above the newly unfurled ferns .

The month long parade of blossoms in my garden is lead by the deepest shades of magenta, this one's delicate silken petals open
 to reveal centers of powdered gold

Pinks of every hue soon follow, until finally there armloads to gather and  buckets full  to  share. 

As cut flowers, peonies are outstanding, with strong stems and intense fragrance. Vases are filled and brought into the house to add beauty and fragrance (and an occasional hitchhiking ant) to every room.  

As May comes to a close, the last peony to bloom in my garden is this beauty, thick with blush satin petals touched by tiny cerise kisses 

The peony is a flower surrounded by tradition and sentiment, and in the garden it's one of the longest-lived and most dependable perennials. Drought tolerant and pest free, it's the flower you are most likely to find blooming away for untold years in old cemeteries and abandoned farmsteads. With colors from deepest burgundy, magenta, pink, coral and  yellow to the purest white, and unmatched fragrance, it's no wonder peonies have been a cherished favorite in gardens for hundreds of years.

As a wedding flower, if you are fortunate enough to pick a date in May, a bouquets of peonies combining fat buds and full blown blossoms is exquisite.

I'm sorry to see then go as summer continues into June, but the memories remain, and this year my peonies were the privileged participants in a beautiful May wedding celebration - An honor for the flowers and for the gardener who lovingly grows them.

NO Buttermilk Required

Martha says . . . . .     

1. Paint unglazed terra-cotta pots with yogurt, buttermilk, plant-food solution, or beer, then rub with earth; keep pots moist by planting something in them and watering. In three months they'll look centuries old.
   
   
   
   
   
   
   

 I have actually looked for a recipe to create moss on my pots, yearning for that green and mossy look that speaks to me of the English gardens. 

And speaking of English gardens, how about the days of drizzle and gray skies overhead, all evoking the feeling of a verdant countryside, laced with stone walls and hedgerows teeming with wild roses and softly chirping birds.

Well I have it right here in the Midwest, moss and all!  

                The dove does look handsome 

                 with his mantle of green.

                         

            And my miniature village is looking
            appealingly ancient .

Moss and Lichens are even growing on this garden seat - a tapestry effect that only nature could create.

If I sit still long enough , will moss grow on me?

Undecking The Halls

There are only two days in the year 

about which nothing can be done.

One is yesterday, the other is tomorrow.

But today . . . . . -dalai lama

 The glitter was great, the candles were aglow, 

but all glitter must eventually go –

 and I’m not at all sad about it. Well, maybe I'm little sad about the red wax on my tablecloth . ..

Sweeping away all the shiny bright from the mantel – 

and in it’s place a new vignette, simple, a little austere, but welcome. Now an  homage to books and reading, 

my favorite January indulgence.

The little feather tree is cleared away and on the table some blooming narcissus and the first stack of plant catalogs 

are ready for savoring. 

Because what follows the Holiday season?  

 Spring of course,with a few filled precious winter months 

to plan  and anticipate it.

  Back to the inspiration board with dreams of projects , paintings, and whatever else captures me .

There’s something about a clean slate, isn’t there?

What Do The Flowers Say?

The occasion called for a Tussie Mussie - 
so many do you know , and the garden was happy to oblige.
I like to begin each of these little nosegays with a single red
or a group of small pink roses at the center.
The rest of the herbs and flowers are wrapped around in sequence, each one chosen for it's meaning

This pink and pretty rose is fragrant as well as beautiful. 

                   It doesn't matter the name or variety,

                               as long as it fits the bill.

Herbs and flowers are clipped and the stems trimmed. 

All grouped and laid out to begin.

Thyme, marjoram, sage, feverfew, rosemary, scented geraniums and mint.

The paper lace collars,  green floral tape, ribbons and reference books complete the picture

The finished Tussie Mussie is tucked into a little vase 

and ready for delivery.

A card with the meanings of all the herbs
and flowers is attached.

I have here made a

Nosegay of culled flowers,

And I have brought nothing of my own

But the thread that

Ties them together – Michel de Montaigne

Hollyhock Envy

No price is set on this lavish summer;

June may be had by the poorest comer.

-James Russell Lowell

Seeds of Promise

There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morn more fragrant than ever again . . . .anonymous

For me, that garden was in an alley !

Hollyhocks, they were the best thing to happen to the alleyways behind my house, and they seemed to grow there in spite of soil hard as concrete,  gravel, the heat and exhaust from the rumbling garbage trucks, and constant neglect.  I never wondered why they were there, I just waited with joyful childhood anticipation every summer, and when they unfurled their tissue silken petals, I was ready  to play

I'm  never satisfied, no matter how many wonderful things are happening in my garden, I always want more!
There are a few flowers I covet, have loved forever, and yet I can't seem to get them to stick around. So when I saw the tall,  bright pink hollyhocks in bloom in my neighbor's garden this morning , the envy set in immediately.

I had them once upon a time -  I have pictures to prove it - but they moved away,  I wonder why?

Hollyhocks were meant to be playthings for little girls
blooms plucked to make dolls in floaty dresses for tea parties on the lawn

The wedding party is almost ready . . . .now, where are those toothpicks?  The white one will be the bride, the pink and yellow ones the maids, we can float them in the birdbath . . . . 

Yay for May!

Where did it go, that sweet soft month of May, I want to hold on to the colors and the smells forever . . . .

MAY DAY MORNING

Oh lets leave a basket of flowers today

For the little old lady who lives down our way

Well heap it with violets white and blue

With Jack-in-the-Pulpit and wildflower too

We’ll make it of paper and line it with ferns

Then hide and we’ll watch her surprise when

She turns

And opens her door and looks out to see

Who in the world it could possible be

Virginia Scott Mike

Have you ever made a May Basket for someone else, or received one yourself?  If so, you wont forget the experience!

The happy children know it’s spring;

Then forth their little baskets bring,

And go abroad a-flowering

By twos and threes from home they stray,

And in the meadows green they play;

They choose a little Queen of May,

And crown her curls with blossoms gay.

And when at dusk they straggle home

 With flower-laden arms they come,

With roses on the cheeks abloom,

While in their hearts bird carols hum.

And when asleep they lie at night,

Their  little springtime dreams are bright,

With birds and buds and joy and light,

And all the wealth of green delight.

And this is why the tough of spring,

When blossoms blow and sweet birds sing,

Such very happiness doth bring,

It sets their heart a-caroling.

From Fresh Posies by Abbie-Farwell Brown

Houghton and Mifflin Co 1908

 . . .and the flowers of May are plentiful and fragrant beyond belief!

A time to gather violets and sweet woodruff to make a May wine bowl

But nowhere is May more fragrantly and artistically celebrated than in France, especially Paris, 

where the Muguet (Lily of the Valley) appears 

everywhere from May Day and on . . . .

 In the Candy Shops

the flower shops

and in my favorite tea room 

Its true, the greens will never be more luminous and fresh, the flowers more fragrant,

 and the morning dew so jewel-like. 

Spring gives way to summer, 

and May becomes a memory . . . .until next year.