Do you want a simple (and not totally scientific) definition of the Chaos Theory? Well, I can reduce it down to one word. SPRING. Spring hit my garden, and it exploded with growth, seedlings, climbing vines, wildflowers, weeds, ...you name it; I've got it, and it is out of control here.
Section of our front yard. Zillions of peaches and nectarines.
I run around at about 80 miles per hour. Don't do that because you'll soon find out (as I did) that you'll trip and do all sorts of horrible things to your body. The roses will bite you, the stone steps will remove your toenails, the hollyhocks will make a rash pop out on your sunburned arms, the stairs will trip you, and the constant lifting and bending will make you take to your bed with an ice pack and Ibuprofen. What a hobby.
Let's talk about weeds– you'll work on a patch, think it is totally clear, then turn around and find more sow thistle and dandelions that you somehow just didn't see the first time. And watch out; those over exuberant self sowing flowers that you thought you couldn't get enough of? YOU CAN get enough of them when they take over your carefully planned, mixed borders and turn them into a sea of love-in-a-mist (or? pick your plant) that tower over and shade everything.
|They ARE glorious though.|
Griping, no not really. Just stating facts, but I must also admit to loving every second of work. (I'll have to check and see if Jeff feels the same way. He helps me with all the heavy stuff.)
|The delicious kitchen garden with a peek of my studio doors in back.|
The borders around the kitchen garden entice children and birds. I am accustomed to Robins taking these berries, but lately the Scrub Jays have really been chowing down on them. These are delightful little fraises des bois.
Delicious and easy-to-grow chives are always a part of my borders.
Edible Sweet William flowers in the kitchen garden (aka potager) .
I plant Cecile Brunner roses wherever I garden. These sweet, thumb-sized flowers fill the air with their scent.
The back yard is crowded with figs, grapes, apples, apricots, kumquats, Mandarin orange, Washington navel orange, loquat, strawberries, nepeta, poppies, blanket flower, salvia, red osier dogwood and more. Heaven for me.
Sorry I've been away so long, but too much has been going on. I finished my article for Country Gardens magazine, and I just finished writing all the captions for the photos. I think the piece will be coming out in the Fall issue. I'll let you know as soon as I know. The piece is fun and shows a bit of the inside of our home. The bad is that I had just been in the hospital with a drug reaction to sulphur and my face literally looks like a pink pumpkin. I could barely open my eyes in the photo, so please excuse the way I look. Yikes.
If you'd like to see me with my normal face, please join me at the Curious Cup Bookstore, a wonderful, independent book store in Carpinteria, California, on Saturday, June 2 at 2:00 p.m. for a demo and booksigning. (Click here for more upcoming appearances.)
One of my favorite writing quotes is:
"Better to write for yourself and have no public,
than to write for the public and have no self."
Cyril Connolly (1903-1974)
Our WINNER of the fantastic antique quilted cow pillow is Julie Marie of Idyllhours.blogspot.com. Congratulations, Julie Marie. (e-mail us your mailing address) Julie Marie is a member of the Grimy Hands Girls (and Men's) Club so she'll receive a bonus gift.
Sending love across the miles,
P.S. Please visit my newest Lowe's Creative Ideas blog posting. Also visit Dee Nash's great posts, well heck, visit them all. They're filled with great ideas and inspiration.
P.P.S. I just attended the Cayucos Street flea market. We arrived late because I have this feeling that if something is meant for me, it will be there. And it was! This mid-1800 paint box if filled with raw minerals, a glass mortar, the slab of Stoke-on-Trent ceramic tile for mixing paints, a bottle of gold dust, and a slate pencil. I feel so lucky to have found it.
Look at the lovely writing and the beautiful blue pigment. Amazing.