In Love

with my shed. And the new colors that are  beckoning in the garden. A few first time bloomers as well. 
I love the patience my garden teaches.
 At the side of my shed is The Sanctuary Garden. Yes, all my gardens have names. Easier for my husband to find me when I get "lost" in the flowers.  There is a small red birdhouse at the back of this garden. The house never made it into a tree so I stuck it on a birch log.  The other day I noticed some motion near the house and saw two tiny wrens busily gathering  twigs and pieces of  a coco fiber basket liner . When they would find just the "right" size they took turns carefully tucking  their selections into the  house.
 I am honored.
A Yard Sale treasure  is the strawberry planter, complete with strawberry plants. I noticed today one is in bloom!
I love found treasures.
One view inside my shed. The company chair. waiting for, well, company. New cuttings from an old Jade plant. Crossing fingers they will take root so they can be passed along to friends old and new.  I love sharing what I have grown.

My shed in the perfect setting. I love how a few steps can take me so very far.

Flea Market Morning

It seems like a easy breezy way to earn a few extra dollars.  Sitting in the sunshine, people offering a handful of quarters...or just one. Some laughter, some challenges, some pseudo arguments as to  the price tag value of  50cents. The communication value of language barriers that are crossed with a show of fingers and a smile.  The feeling of accomplishment when  someone  pays for and walks away smiling  while holding Auntie Mabel's wedding gift of a chartreuse hand made ceramic lamp! Success!!! 
 The whole process can start several days or hours before the gate opens.  Assembling an assortment of shiny things, okay, dusty things that with a good cleaning will now be shiny things to add to the "Must Go" box.  Taking those now shiny things out of the Must Go box because they look pretty good. Arguing with yourself about getting new shiny things to replace them and finally  putting them back into the  box and closing the lid.  
 Trying to hold onto the philosophy of "Does it make you smile" to be able to part with long held treasures. Treasures held because you felt you had to hold onto them, yet realizing you no longer  need, want  and maybe never even liked ...and now you can let go.  You finally have that choice. You can load up your wagon and go!
 The morning starts so early.  Smacking the annoying buzz of the alarm does not change time to allow you "5 more minutes".  Stumbling about before the sun peeks from it's slumber you try to remember the last minute "stuff", kiss the dog, kiss the husband...and journey onward.
 The  back roads drive can be beautiful. A hint of brightness awakens the  birds and small animals to play their style of hopscotch across the path. A dew mist can linger over freshly mowed lawns, carefully tended designer gardens, and color "pops" in a field of wild flowers. Perhaps I should apologize to my alarm clock for that  "5 more minutes" smack!
 Arriving, waiting, sometimes heater running to ward off the chill, wishing for coffee, remembering not to panic when a flashlight beams into the back of your car for its only  a "dealer" trying to spot the good stuff.
 Gates open, cars parade in, find your preferred table and start the rush of unloading and set up before the swarm of "dealers" looking for that collectible valuable "buy it cheap' item.  Or not.  Sometimes I am granted an ease of set up. Carefully placing items that will catch the sparkles of sunlight, an eager eye of a child, a reminiscent grandmother, a laughter of silliness, a puzzle, a must pick up and shake, a box to dig through, a pretty container that must be opened, a gadget with a plug for the handyman to ponder, books for a potential scholar, if only for an escape to a garden.  
 My price tags are low. Too low I have been told.  But as items are wanted, I wrap and bag and add another quarter to my pocket I am satisfied.  
 A world of people pass my  table. The suave morning shopper, the giggling fashion queens, the "do you a favor and give you a quarter for it" buffoon.  Well dressed couples,  too long married couples, so young "how did we get here" couples.  Family mullet style country stars, young "wanna be's" in Classic Rock style tight hiphuggers and Beatle caps, gothics and harleys, polka dots and tattoos. Cigarette flickers and "Yo Dude" looking at chicks, snickers. Tattered old Marines proudly sporting their emblems, Elderly ladies you wish you had known, tall tale telling gentlemen, bargaining just to have the time.
 Familiar faces that now smile and share a word or two.  Updating life over a clothed table of wares. 
 Some totally annoying obnoxious out for a mean parade that remind you again of balance and patience.
 And the dear new friend, new trust,who will always stop and guard my table while I  dash, sometimes madly to the local porta potty.
 Most all stop and look, some pass on by. My pockets become heavy with change and dollars and words and connections and  smiles. I've held tightly to set values and eased to let some go. For some buyers they have smugly "won the battle". Others are truly grateful. They thank me for the "gift". And selfishly it makes me smile.  Somewhere along the way someone has done the same for me. I may not realize it until much later when I pull that item from the shelf, dust it off and remember the shine. 
The day ends when the flow slows down, boxes are once again packed and  "forget about it" items are tossed into the trash. Some days the boxes are still heavy. other times the load to carry home is light.  Yet I always have  extra change in my pocket, a feeling of accomplishment a smile in my day, and my shopping list dream of more cat food, more milkbones, something for supper,  something new for my garden and perhaps something shiny for my shelf.
  

Lessons at the Plant Nursery

 The other night I  joined a "premium" class at the local nursery, Bemis Farms Nursery. I have taken many of their workshops, some successful, some not quite so.As the time I just could not get those lavender bunches tied tightly enough, and sure enough, on the car ride home my  dainty lavender wreath exploded with a profusion of scent and tiny purple blooms , all over the car.  If you've ever been in an enclosed  area with too much lavender, you understand the term "heady".  "Really Officer, it was the lavender!"

 So I have learned to be careful. I have learned to  watch the bumps, bring extra padding and pull the  wire just a little bit tighter. A bit like life, isn't it?

  At the premium workshop participants had the opportunity to work with the designers, Tina and Bart, and just let your imagination run wild.  And so it did. Selecting the pottery of your dreams, selecting what colors and textures and styles to place in the planter, all following the guidelines of Chillers, Spillers, Fillers and Thrillers...terms for the various  types of plants that make up a container garden.   It was not as easy as you think!

 I had a general idea of the colors and design and effect I wanted to try. Selecting plants  from the vast sea of "pick me" flowers was daunting. Support from our "leaders"  encouraged us to try.  And so I did.    I picked plants I normally would not try, I picked colors that reflected a "never be seen in that" side of me,I picked pinks and silvers and stripes and plumes. I tried angles and placement and fuzzies and  smooths.  I tucked a  deep color to pull into the depth of the planter.  And because I like  the focus that some small figures present, I  tucked a lion statue representing courage into my creation.

 My efforts received  compliments and which made me smile. Until I looked at the other creations.  Mine looked bland compared to their  styles. Their artistic  creations sported twigs and bark and moss and treasures, twists and turns and an assembly worthy of ribbons at the local flower show.  

 Yet, I like my creation. I know it needs to grow and fill in.  I know it needs some tending and "be the plant" encouraging to get the spillers to trail where I envisioned them.  I know the  colors might change and bring it all into a different perspective. I know its not a show stopper but that was not my intent.  My intent was to try what I normally would just smile at and wonder "if".

Carefully placing  soil, plants, textures, stripes, bolds,   patterns was an incredible experience. Remembering what might be a Chiller could also be a Spiller.  Choosing the Thriller and knowing  for your container that it is perfect. And adding the extra, the Fillers, that help provide the depth and pull it all together.  And  to understand and perhaps applaud  the courage, to even  try.

 A lesson learned  at the nursery. For I know now that when I reached into the pile of soil, I was reaching into myself.

A moment in time often needs no descriptive words beyond those that are felt in the heart

And with that being said.....

I spent some time with my garden today. It was teasing me with a glimpse of color here and there, textures of green  standing strong and the most delicate of scents tickling my nose. How could I resist?
And so I wandered  amongst the  weeds and greens. Chatting, quite possible out loud, about this and that, ideas and dreams, complimenting and thanking  the brave warming up to Spring blooms. 
There is a feeling of safety in my garden. Yes the stupid unmentionables still make me scream  like a lost 5 year old.....so I secretly beg a bargain that they don't come out near me unless they grow legs.  But beyond that I  feel protected and content.  I lose track of time and years. And I am pulled. And wrapped. And lost in the bluest of tiny blue colors, and the delicate scent that can only be from fairy kisses, and the dancing of the sun and shadows  through stems and leaves, and the sparkles from carefully placed found treasures. 

I once read that a persons garden is a reflection of themselves.  I look in my mirror and I see  imperfections. I see  lines of challenges never won, I see questions and doubts and impatience.  Yet when I look into my garden I see beyond the mesh. The tiny  buds that stand  proud, the struggling out of place  plant that manages to bloom anyway, the mishmash and imperfect structures and alignment , and yes, a few weeds that don't fit in but still blend together to provide each day with a new surprise, a new discovery, a sense of contentment . It is mine. I painted these colors in the bare dirt. It grows. And in its own style is beyond beautiful. I encouraged, respected, cheered and accepted.  I am proud of my garden. Just as it is.

   Tomorrow when I go  back into my garden.  I think I  will tuck my mirror in there too.

And once again.......

Goodness, talk about false starts!  here I try to make a good impression and Nnoooo, it disappears.

So okay, no good impressions, no invisible impressions, just another start to  my Blog attempt. A review and view, and here and there, journeys near and far,babbles and nonsense that might just make sense.

  Hopefully this time  it will "stick" and blogger will let me experience the world of words to no one in particular hoping everyone  will read them.
 Welcome! I'm glad you're here.