I have written about my mother’s everyday routines – quiet, small practices, some taught and some untaught. My father, a physician, had grand, energetic routines centered around gardening, travel and 35mm photography. I particularly remember his gardening this time of year as he waited for spring to arrive.
His gardening was prolific, with multiple flower and vegetable gardens at his different properties. For decades, until his early 90s, he planned more gardens, more bulbs to plant, more supplies to get and more ornamental and water features to place. A master gardener, his unceasing drive to create colorful views and conduct gardening tours for friends and family (and a reason to have a party) was unmatched. He made plans this time of year inspired by travels and by attending the spring Bachman’s Flower Show.
While his gardening wasn’t simple, a greenhouse he added at our family home was remarkably sustainable – saving and protecting plants year after year instead of replacing them. In a picture recently used for my younger sister’s milestone birthday, the greenhouse setting (see pictures below) perfectly captures those memories: fall crisp nights digging up plants, the humid greenhouse air with geranium scent, and the anxiety of freeze alarms during our parents’ travels.
When the family home sold, he converted a screen porch and bay windows at his hobby farm house into “greenhouse” space, still wintering dozens of plants. My mother patiently deadheaded and cleaned fallen leaves year-round.
As he aged, watching his passion outlast his physical abilities became difficult. His children and grandchildren helped bring in plants and dig bulbs in the fall, and plant them again in the spring. In return, we received garden tours and fresh flower arrangements and remember his passion with stories (and some grumbling) and treasure the photographs of his lifelong passion.
When my own geraniums survived nearly to Thanksgiving this year, I planted them for wintering over in a heated shed. Though not as grand or beautiful as my father’s greenhouse, the plants with their unmistakable scent are thriving in the sun, being protected and saved, and waiting to return outside.
Want to weave simplicity into your life? Sign up for The Silver Thread, a light and variable email sharing my weekly post with thoughts and ideas on moving towards simplicity.
Thank you for subscribing!
Oops, there was an error sending your message.
Please try again later.