A Change Of Heart

Listen! The wind is rising and the air is wild with leaves. We have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!

-humbert wolfe

I'm not sure how or why it happened, but somewhere, somehow,  I lost the connection to my garden this summer.  It wasn't just the physical connection, more so the emotional connection. Nature threw some tough curves with the drought and the heat, so I could blame it on unforseen and  uncontrollable forces at work against me, but that seems like a bit of a cop out. I just couldn't care any more.  

The gardening year went by, and I mostly cowered in the house on those 100 plus days. I often gazed out the windows, hoping to fell an urge to go outside and DO something.  I tried  at first to  keep up with watering by hand, but soon gave that up.  I felt guilty at first, then overwhelmed , and  finally just resigned to the situation.

But Autumn brings with it another chance, a newly formed hope fueled by the refreshing cooler temperatures and welcome soaking rains.  The color green returned, and a walkabout on a cool September morning revealed some astonishing discoveries, some good, some not so much.

BEFORE PICTURE  - The front of the perennial bed has been invaded and mostly taken over by a crop of invasive sea oats that has infiltrated the roses and peonies. The situation struck me as hopeless at first as I considered the prospect of digging all the peonies up, removing the grass and then replanting the peonies. And all this has to be accomplished in one short week as peonies can only be transplanted in the fall. 

AFTER PICTURE - Then I began the job of cutting everything down so I could see the situation more clearly, and decided I might just be able to leave the peonies and rid the soil of the invading grass all around them, its worth a try after all. Things are looking up  . . . .

Filled with a new energy, I began to see even more positive places, and in the short space of one day I actually began to feel the old enthusiasm return. The basil, marjoram and parsley in the little garden were still thriving.

 The Nasturtiums never looked happier

 The Anemones were luxurious

 The Hydrangea were handsome in all their fall finery

The Asters were rosy and glowing

The Perennial Ageratum were resplendent in blue

Good news and good feelings returned as mysteriously as they had disappeared, and the changing season brought with it a new optimism. It felt good.  One of the best lessons of the garden returned to me,  the promise of another year is always present.

What's Your palette?

Messes are the artist's true friend - we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here -

While browsing in a vintage shop

recently, my friend and fellow shopper commented  "That's perfect for you, its your palette". That led to an interesting discussion of how each of us has our own unique set of color preferences, and we are indeed drawn to those colors or combinations of colors over and over again, almost unconsciously. An awareness of this has remained with me ever since, and sure enough - just look around you , in your closet, in your bedroom, in your garden.  You might discover a layer of your own personality that is uniquely you, your palette

From an artist's point of view, what ends up on the canvas or the paper starts here - on the palette.  Its the place where the painter has the most fun and faces the most challenges .  Here are the mixes, the choices, the happy accidents and the struggles to achieve just the right shade.  The loaded and well-used palette itself  is art of a unique kind, to be appreciated by anyone with a love of color and an understanding of just how sensitive and magic color can be.

A palette can be an  expensive ceramic piece

Or a simple plastic model

A metal folding model is perfect for the Plein Air painter

The glorious mess that happens on a palette has a story to tell

Inspiration for fashion and photography

Vintage palettes are a rare and special find 

This little vintage metal watercolor palette has found new life as a display /magnet board for miniature watercolors. I like to imagine that it must have been someone's traveling companion years ago. Clean now of paint, except for a few stains, I wonder what lovely washes were mixed long ago, and what paintings might have resulted.

  You don't have to be an artist to relish colors , they are all around us every day, just waiting to be noticed and marveled at .  What's your palette?

shabby but not chic

How quickly the natural world returns to its own order after we have passed through it, shouting our names -

Joe Comer, Pocketful of Names

Shabby seems to be the word that describes it best, most of my garden needs a haircut and so do I.


Viewer discretion advised . . . these are not pretty pictures

The foxglove is still struggling to stand tall, but the stalks are covered with browning blossoms, and the seed heads are forming.  Since this patch of elegant flowers seems to enjoy staking out its own territory in my garden, I'm going to ignore the untidiness of it all and let it happen , secure in the knowledge that they will reappear again next year in all their pink and crimson glory..

The roses are flushing out in a meager burst of bloom, nothing to compare with their first glorious show a month ago, and while I'm not impressed, the Japanese beetles seem to be less discriminating.  So its "off with their heads" by me, in an effort to win that crazy game.

Geraniums have gone from compact globes of brilliant blue to tall, scraggly, tangled masses. Its as if they  know that as long as they are blooming in some fashion I cant bear to cut them back. But I will gather my courage and my scissors and show them who is boss tomorrow!

The chamomile flops, refusing to perform as a lawn or ground cover for me, and the trumpet vine threatens to take over the world. It definitely has taken over the stone well - 

The hollyhocks are smallish , their bases riddled with rust and insect holes, and I fear I may not even get one  hollyhock doll out of them.


I could go on and on, but nobody can stand a gardener who whines all the time.




This year my garden has survived a very hot and dry spring, as well as a large helping of neglect from the gardener, that's me. So in all fairness, I really need to be both forgiving and tolerant.  With eyes that look at the big picture, I must say that for every shabby spot there is also a spot of  beauty,  Its always an  adventure to see what happens when I DONT  take control and nature does. I know, I never really had control anyway.

Notes on a French Market

Joie de vivre - a feeling of healthy enjoyment of life, exhuberance

It was a gathering of Creme de la creme

 One whole day, lots of vendors with beautiful wares, and some really tasty treats to keep everyone well fed! Let's relive it one more time!

This is our signature scene for the Market with a French feeling,  so if you haven't been to Paris yet, just come to Moss Ave. on September 22, no air travel required!

Setting up is half the fun, Stone Well Garden offered vintage garden antiques and herbs. 

Happy Customers and Happy Vendors - who can tell the difference?

French women cant have too many beautiful scarves. They were going fast. The artist here must be calling her silk broker in the Orient to order more precious fabric. 

Exquisite jewelry , letterpress and sweet creations of linen and lace, a winning mix.

Baguettes and Croissants - yummy and double yummy . . . . .

As if the French bakery wasnt enough, more breads, beeswax candles and books from our favorite Monastery, St. Bede's.

The line at the Creperie never stopped!

Pastries must be washed down with French Roast!

Every Atelier requires a smiling staff

There were fabulous finds at every turn, and we cant wait to do it again in September, au revoir!

French macarons

England is A Garden

The words are from a poem by Rudyard Kipling, and how true they are. A recent day spent in my own garden inspired me to reflections on England. It was a gray drizzley day, (is that a word even?) and as I worked in between the soft showers all day long, I imagined I was gardening in England, where I'm sure such a damp day is the norm for a day in May.

This beautiful book is one of the treasures that I found in England, so unique in the way the artist combined sketches of  architecture in pencil with watercolor illustrations  of flowers 

Inspired by the book, I decided to try the technique to illustrate my gazebo and the peonies 

 blooming nearby.

Some talismans that keep the English gardens always close  ..

my trugs, terra cotta pots and fancies, and of course my water cans.  The large conservatory can I hand-carried on board the plane on my return flight - much to the amusement of my fellow travelers.

In addition to tangible inspirations, I returned from 

England with visions of cottage gardens, stone walls, wattle fences, dovecotes, thyme benches, and of course masses of climbing, rambling roses. 

I immediately set about transforming my own spaces and places to channel the gardens of England.  Some of these endeavors were successful, some were not - another wonderful learning experience from nature.  The climate in the Midwest is NOT the same as the climate in England - and that single factor does make a difference.

This little cottage became the setting for a Beatrix Potter Garden, inspired by the little books and planted with many of the vegetables and herbs mentioned in the stories of Peter, Benjamin, Jemima Puddleduck, and Jeremy Fisher.

A staddle stone  (looks like a mushroom!),  a stone trough with a burrowing hedgehog , and the majestic spires of foxglove all contribute to the feeling.

Got most of what I need for a cottage garden - just missing those chickens - I'm not giving up on that one yet - stay tuned 

Well worn Wellies