Judith reminisces in her garden.
It would seem that Autumn has made its presence known. The mornings are quite chilly and many of the tender annuals are droopy and sad. I am emptying pots as I continue to gather seeds from various perennials. The chickens are not impressed with this change and now I close their little house door so they can be warmer at night. Soon it will be time to add the tarps around the outside of the coop. The potting shed needs to be tidied as it seems that some creatures have visited and tossed pots around. I am a bit sniffly these days because of leaf mold. Leaf mold and snow mold seem to know where to find me.
Autumn is here
While it seems sometimes that we are all alone in our little gardening world, we are not. We carry with us all those who advised us, praised us, and admonished us. As a child I thought of myself as unpaid labour as I grumbled through the gardens that my parents planted. I weeded vegetables and then picked them for freezing and canning. There were beautiful gladiolas that marched down the middle of the rows of vegetables. My mother would carefully pick the gladiolas for the crystal vase as they matured. I weeded and grumbled and picked and grumbled and I drank in all that knowledge without even being aware. In my thirties, when I suddenly desired a garden, that knowledge started to trickle in and when circumstances meant that I needed to find a job, I took that knowledge and worked as a gardener. I continued to study and met amazing gardeners and joined the Master Gardeners where I met more gardeners. They are all with me in the garden.
When my mother died in 2011, a piece of my knowledge seemed to crumble. But I found her books and notes and gradually I built my memories of her gardening knowledge back up again. She now has a gentle presence by the archway in my back yard. Last week my father died. He was born on a farm, on the Petitcodiac river near Moncton, New Brunswick. He loved to grow squash and potatoes and had many interesting ideas about them. He kept the potatoes that my grandfather had grown over the years and now I have taken up that task. Each spring I plant a seed potato that I collected in the fall. He really liked Hubbard squash which I am still trying to grow, but next year I know I shall have a bumper crop. While he suffered in the throes of dementia, I found that if I brought in a colourful seed catalogue we could go through it together and laugh and reminisce.
My father Don with my sweet dog, Belle
My garden takes away the sadness and allows me to work with my memories. I am now grateful to both of my parents for making me work in the garden. And I am grateful to my garden for giving me peace.
Enjoy your week. Judith.
(Email: sghorticultural@gmail.com)
Veggie Bites are available at https://sghorticultural.wixsite.com/website or https://gardeningcalendar.ca/articles/veggie-bites/
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