Was someone in particular your inspiration for gardening?

I was reading the postings about the week's question concerning your oldest garden tool...and Yuska from San Antonio mentioned that her 95 year old grandmother was still gardening at 95 and produced the most beautiful garden in her neighborhood!

I started thinking about my sweet little Mamaw who was still gardening at about 90 (she lived to be almost 98!). She had a "Southern swept garden" in South Texas. There were flowers everywhere in the front and only a gravel path that led to the front porch (lined with Oxalis) and to other areas of the garden-- no lawn at all! (The back, of course, was the location of a fruit orchard and the "kitchen garden" where she and Papaw grew watermelons, strawberries, tomatoes, beans, okra, squash, potatoes, carrots, etc.)

The front flowers I remember most were azalea bushes, plumbagos, hydrangeas, bachelor buttons, hens and chickens in a mounded, circular "rock garden," phlox, cockscomb.... and zinnias in a side garden for cutting.

Mamaw Myrtle had a limited amount of water (from a windmill!) in our hot Texas summers, and I was occasionally "allowed" to apportion out the water to the most needy plants when I visited for several weeks in the summer.

I think of her every day when I work in my gardens...and in particular when I tend to one of her "favorites."

(I hope this thread is not a repeat of one already done...I did a search for "gardening inspiration" and only single phrases popped up...couldn't find a thread devoted to the topic, which is dear to my heart.)

When I was a little girl, I lived on Lake Erie. Our yard was fenced in, and the nextdoor neighbor had a beautiful garden on her side of the fence. She grew dayliys, bearded iris, and tall phlox, as well as many other perennials. My swing set was right beside the phlox. When I bought a home of my own, I wanted a garden like hers. Now I have a fence around my property, and guess what I plant - daylilys, bearded iris and tall phlox, as well as many other perennials. It's almost like going home again.

when i was young my grandfather had a garden in our back yard in brooklyn. i always remember wrapping the fig trees for the winter in some type of heavy tarp. he always had tomatoes and squash and when i bought my home i knew i had to have a garden, although i don't remember ever seeing a deer in my backyard in brooklyn. LOL

it was my grandmother. from the minute she laid those first four o'clock seeds in my tiny little hand and showed me how to push them into the soil. many years have gone by, but i still miss her terribly.

My Mother and Grandmother inspired me. ;) They both always had a large vegetable garden which actually took priority over anything else. My Grandmother had a few roses, marigolds, zinnias, 4 o'clocks, and some plants that I still don't even know the names of. My Mother is 84 and still gardening. Her yard is beautiful with many different types of plants and flowers, Her favorite being dahlias. We enjoy gardening together.

I can't forget my best friend. She has always grown the most beautiful roses. She started me out with roses. I had never grown a rose in my life. lol I had several failures before any successes. Now I have several roses that grow and bloom beautifully.

Lin

My stepdad got me started when I was 6. Strawberrys in northern Minnesota. Had a second garden with all the veggies - all together about 1.5 ac.

If we did not raise it, catch it, or shoot it, we didn't eat. Well almost - had a few dinners in Bemidji, and at the Interlochen club meetings, but that was mostly donated produce, cheese and meat, too.

One of our neighboors - a transplanted Canadian - Lizzie Gibbons - had almost 5 ac. in vegatables. I remember her shoving newspaper in her stockings to keep the flies and mosquitos from biting as she worked in the garden. Long dresses, long sleeves, gloves, and bonnets or broad-brimmed straw hats.

She baked bread for sale and also sold eggs and chickens. Her DH raised a few hogs and cows, so kept some fields of alfalfa. She would pay me in Canadian money to mow the grass in the flower garden. It was fenced so that the hogs and chickens could not get in. She had some dwarf fruit trees with several types of parsley for ground cover under them, and the most fantastic hollyhocks I've ever seen. The flowers always had an assortment of bees, hummingbirds, and other flying insects. I would watch them work the blossums for hours.

Loved to help turn the crank on the milk separater. I also helped gather the eggs. And what a cook - never measured anything - but if you dropped by, she would spread a smorgasboard that would feed a small army.

Fond memories, indeed.

Bubba...wow...that brought back other memories of the days of my Mamaw and Papaw...especially the bonnet part! I remember Mamaw never tended the garden without her bonnet, and she made them out of scraps of fabric! My grandparents also had their own hogs, chickens, cows, horses, etc. I'll never eat a sausage today without remembering how the casings got their start. LOL

I've never heard the detail about newspapers in stockings to try to stop the insects from biting! I'm outlining a novel that includes a character who loves to garden in slave days in the South...and I will include that "local color" detail if you don't mind! ...Connie

And Dancy...I had forgotten about my grandmother's roses! She had a small rose garden to the right of the curving path to the front porch. I've not had good luck with them either, but still keep trying. At least they are pretty when I bring them home and for a few months! ha

Go ahead. The deer flies and horse flies could take a chunk of flesh. They were actually worse than the mosquitos. They did not mind "working" in the hot sun, but the mosquitos waited in the shade or came out after the sun was setting.
Deer flies look like houseflies, but with yellow stripes down their bodies, I believe the "new" term for horse flies is Black Flies - as big as a hornet, over an inch long.

But fishing at night was a real treat - double blue jeans and long sleeves with a windbreaker, and the @#$% mosquitos could still take some blood.

If we did not raise it, catch it, or shoot it, we didn't eat.

That; and the 3 s's philosophy (shoot, shovel, and shut-up) was the way I was raised in Montana--serves me real well for down here too.
;)
Debbie

I'm so enjoying all of the postings here. Each one brings back memories for me. Thanks for adding to my morning 'cuppa'.

This message was edited Jun 15, 2006 7:45 AM

I got interested in gardening when I had to spend time after school practicing my handwriting in the nuns convent garden. It was this walled in sanctuary that was ablaze with every flower imaginable, trees, birbaths, etc. A truly magical place.
My second grade teacher did the gardening,,,she was about 99 years old and would lift stones, plant flowers, dig holes etc. and plant seeds, bulbs, cuttings, etc.
She would put a big straw hat over her habit and be out there for hours while we boys had to make legible characters out of our chicken scratch.!!!
I had never seen such an amazing sight in my life...so much color and so much variety...roses, lilies, zinnias, those reallt fragrant carnations, etc. etc. etc.

My grandfather opened a marigold seed head and showed me all the seeds within - he said "You only have to buy seeds or a plant once - God takes care of the rest."

He strung cord up his front porch for morning glories and would sit out there with his coffee in the morning. He said "This is like living in the heart of a rainbow."

He taught me how to look at nature and constantly be amazed. He died at 82 in 1974 and I still miss him!

Sterhill...your photo is simply perfect! I love the light from above...such a photographic metaphor for the "God takes care of the rest" that you posted above, as quoted by your grandfather!

Mom was my greatest inspiration. We were sharecroppers on a farm so we always had farm chores to do including working in the vegetable garden. Mom, mother of 11 children, always had time for flowers too. We didn't have grass in our yard, it was soil with flowers, sometimes few, sometimes lots. Probably depending on whether she was pregnant or not because she always did the flower beds.

My grandparents always had flowers too. I especially have fond memories of the worn out granite kettles and pans planted with begonias. There was a red flower that we could squeeze and it would pop (any ideas about what it was?).

A few weeks ago two of my brothers and I went on a trip to Germany where we visited all the places our ancestors lived. What beautiful gardens! I'll never forget driving up to to a home to visit some friends and there was the 70+ year old "Frau" happily gardening in her gown and robe! That's where we inherited that love of beautiful flowers and gardens and I inherited the love of gardening. (One of my brothers informed me that we didn't all inherit the "love of gardening".) Coincidentally, we are related to Gregor Mendel, the botanist who discovered how genetics works in experiments with hybridizing garden peas. So it's in my blood!

Now that is in your blood.

I still have and use an old garden trowel that was my Mother-in-laws. She gardened all her life and had some beautiful plants. She had a very nice greenhouse. So no telling how old my trowel is. It is my very favorite tool.


Lin

It is ironic how those old tools seeming last so long, when the new ones break!

My maternal grandmother lived with us all of my growing up years - and she found her peace in the garden. The property was not large (if I drive by now, it looks tiny!), but it was alive with flowers. Her favorites were fuchsias and begonias, along with geraniums and honeysuckle. Every once in awhile I will realize I know something about a flower or plant that I could only have learned from following her around as a small child. It's amazing how much information is stored in our brains if only we can tap into it!!

Her father was a landscaper in Ireland on a private estate - which is now a public garden (I can't remember the name). When the entire family moved here in the early 1900's, my great-grandfather continued to garden professionally in the Seattle area. I was recently given a gardening book, published in 1944, that one of my grandmother's sisters gave to another, with a very endearing inscription. It is an absolute treasure! Incidentally, my grandmother tried to book passage on the Titanic to come to the US, but there wasn't any room. Whew!

A paternal great aunt of mine gardened until she died at the age of 99. How I hope I will be like that - active both mentally and physically!!

Carole

What touching stories everyone!

Until 8 months ago, I always turned up my nose at gardening. I didn't want to get sunburned, and I was terrified of spiders. Then I bought my first home, and I fell in love with the land like Scarlett O'Hara. Just like her father told her that there was " no getting away from it, Katie Scarlett, this love of the land," I felt the drive to dig my hands into my own little piece of Earth.

It runs in my blood. My grandfather was a landscaper for Los Angeles County, and did quite bit of work at Griffith Park. When I was a little girl, I'd visit my grandfather every now and then who lived in Camarillo, CA. His back yard was a perfectly scaled down Japanese Tea Garden. There was a real stream, with a pond turtle named Jimmy, and he had koi that ate by a mechanized feeder that he invented.

The truly amazing thing were his Bonsai. He had atleast 50 of them. He pointed to these huge pepper trees on his property. "See those?" then he pointed to a tiny Bonsai pepper tree forest. "These are the same age. Forty years." He had "pet" birds. The wild birds would land on him and eat from his hands.

My dad is an amazing gardener, and he lives only a mile away from me. We share seeds and plants now, and argue over what looks best where and whose begonias are bigger.

Sometimes, on a Saturday I'll just show up at his house unannounced, and he'll be exactly where he always is- out in the front pulling weeds, and I get out and help him, and we just talk about "stuff" or sometimes nothing at all.

What's so bittersweet is that he used to pull weeds with his mother on Saturdays and that was their special time together. Grandma is now entering the more difficult stage of Allheizmer's. She's 88 years old. I plan to continue the Saturday morning weed pulls with my boys- my 5 year old loves to help me sow seeds- I don't care if they come up crooked or too far apart or he loses half of them in his pocket. They're all the more sweet because my little boy planted them!

This message was edited Jun 21, 2006 11:19 AM

croclover,

What a beautiful piece of reflective writing! Loved reading it!

Thank you Connie! I too enjoy writing, and I can see you standing under the windmill in your story. I lived in Dallas for about 4 years, so I know that Texas Summer heat and the bugs. Whew! If only I'd known about the newspares in the stockings, perhaps I wouldn't have been bitten as often by the chiggers!

Outlining a novel about the pre-war South? Count me in- I'll read it! I love stories from that era coming from all perspectives.

Croclover...it will probably be about 5 years before I begin writing in earnest, but I hope to still be on DG then! :)
DH will retire in about 5 years, so I figured I may as well go ahead and teach a bit longer...I would SO MISS it if I had retired this year, as I could have (but under the minimum retirement plan, and each year that I teach now adds 2.4 percent).

Well my grandparents on both sides of my family always gardened. My grandfather (maternal) had a farm in Jersey where I grew up. The street he used to live on had four houses on one side of the street. The other side of the street for as far as you could see was my grandfather's garden. I would sit on his lap on the tractor and we would plow the field and sow the seeds. He used to take me out in the garden during harvest time too. We'd get red mud all over us. His back yard had a grape vine, and two peach trees. He would place me on his tall, broad shoulders so that my little hands could (barely) grab one of those peaches. I would bite into it and the juice would run down my arm. I was one sticky mess when we came back in the house. He always had beautiful flowers that surrounded his whole yard. I felt like I was in the garden of Eden.

My paternal grandmother had her own farm. She never went to the store for anything except sugar. She made her own butter, ice cream, had her own cows for butchering, chickens, and a massive veggie garden. I remember one summer she took me into the chicken coop to get some eggs. She went to shoo the chicks off the eggs....well when they started flappin' and a flyin' 'round, little Audra flew out of the chicken coop. Too scary for me! My grandma literally peed in her pants laughin' so hard at me.

She was an antique dealer, and I remember her showing me how to make ice cream with those old-fashioned ice cream makers. We'd go out to the lake, fish for our dinner and come back and my mom and dad would be out in the field pickin' the veggies for the evening.

My brother and I would pick aggots out of her dirt driveway. Then we'd wash them and shine them and they looked so pretty.

I hope to retire on my own farm one day.....

This message was edited Jun 21, 2006 5:35 PM

This message was edited Jun 21, 2006 5:36 PM

Wow...another beautiful memory put into words. Most kids nowadays will never experience what we did, yes??!

So true...but I'm trying to build some of these memories for my kids....