Spring in Seattle

After about 10 days of relatively frantic preparation, living through and recovering from a 5 day workshop I hosted at my Seattle studio, all the visiting teachers are gone, I'm halfway through the mountains of laundry my 3 houseguests generated, my fridge is empty and I seem to be rather sluggish.  I'm tired.  Or at least I was until I took a nap which was surprisingly soon after having wakened this morning.  I guess some days I need to sleep in successive shifts.

The magnolias are in bloom in Seattle.  The apple and cherry trees, too.  Daffodils have come and gone and we're still heavy into tulips.  The city looks so gorgeous with so much color.  I think we appreciate it more than folks who live in places with a more balanced climate.  After such long dark and dreary winters, the color of spring blossoms seems almost like neon, almost unreal.  

The windows are open all night now, we have in fact survived another winter and although John's still snow skiing, it's supposed to be a beautiful spring down here at sea level.  

My own garden, such as it is, is coming to life and I'm especially excited about having two quite opposite climates in which to work, both on my tiny postage stamp piece of land.  

The kitchen garden is shady, really small but with a steep slope, sort of private and intimate.  I'm not sure I have enough sunlight there to grow herbs but I imagine myself harvesting basil, then dashing into the kitchen mere steps away to mix up some pesto.  There's room for a table for one and a super small umbrella.  

The roof top garden is much bigger, it sits on top of the master bedroom and the thing really heats up even though you would think that Seattle wouldn't be able to muster a true, southern-style bake.  No trees provide shade or a wind break and the deck material is a rolled on membrane that doesn't feel hot under your bare feet but sure does provide a sort of warming-tray effect.  I've got a teak bench and table, a fancy chaise, a fabulous French metal Deauville chair and a 10 foot offset umbrella, brand name Southern Butterfly.  So far, that's all I've got going on the roof.  

As budget provides, I'll get one of those propane heaters so I can be out there a few of the non-summer months of the year. 

Mom didn't really garden in any formal, daily up keep, weekly weeding type of way.  I think the best attempt she ever mounted was when she lived at Five Towns and had that perfectly-sized screened in back porch.  We'd made her planters for either her birthday or Mother's Day and filled them up with something pretty with a long bloom cycle.  She also was a genius at pothos, the plant that is irresistably attractive to all gardening under-achievers.  

Mom loved Ivy and for as long as I can remember, she had a couple little 4 or 6 inch pots of it stashed around the house.  Varigated, solid, small leafed and big.  She was a big fan of Ivy and they always did really well for her.  

When Mom moved to North Carolina, she was amazed at the difference in color, the different flowers and shrubs that she was seeing there that hadn't been in Florida.  She had an appreciation for these types of characteristics unique to a place and because she hardly went anywhere, everything about someplace new seemed to hold an exaggerated significance.  Mom was downright thrilled by the simple visit of a bird to the feeder right outside her door.  

I think it's good to be moved by the simple.  Wonder abounds but hardly anybody takes the time to notice.  Mom did, though.  I loved that about her.

I wonder what Pooge has done with the ones Mom had up until she died.  I have some chicks and hens from my friend Kristin's garden.  We search for connections and find them in all sorts of ways.

I don't know how I came by my interest in gardening and, believe me, Jimmy and Heidi are none too thrilled when maintenance falls to them when I travel.  In the heat of the summer, which for us is August, daily watering is required. I'll be gone for the last half of August and the first week of September.  I expect a revolt.  

But for now, I'm excited to see so many big beautiful blossoms all along my walks thru town.  I'm off for one now, I'm meeting Jimmy at the studio so we can watch the Blazers on my big 9' x 14' screen.  

Love and Prayers From Here to There.