Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gardening. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Summer Journal: In My Own Backyard

I'm so happy to see my old friends have found me here! I'm sorry it has taken me a few days to reply to your lovely comments. We went away for the weekend to attend my niece's bridal shower, and I thought I would have more time before we left.

For as long as we have lived in this house--twenty years!--red squirrels have been living in our backyard. They are feisty, territorial creatures. I do love them!

Hummingbirds are feisty, territorial creatures, too, yet so delicate and fairy-like.
I planted five new English roses this year, bringing my rose count up to fourteen bushes! This one is Lady of Shalott:


One of my favorite roses is a beautiful salmon pink one called Boscobel. At first, her blossoms were so pale that I thought David Austin had sent me the wrong rose. She has grown a lot since I took this photo earlier in the season:

 The rose below is the Ambridge Rose. A camera really can't capture her ethereal beauty:

Hanging from a low branch on the pear tree across the street from my house is a basketball-sized, papery nest of a bald-faced hornet colony. Today, the Animal Warden stopped by. He parked his truck in front of the nest, rolled down his window, aimed a can of spray at it (briefly), and drove off.  I think the wasps laughed. I know I did.

























Munstead Wood is a deep, dark, crimson rose with incomparable form and scent.

My neighbors down the lane planted two apple trees in their side yard when they bought their house. Those neighbors moved out a couple of years ago and new neighbors moved in. This year, for some reason or another, the new neighbors decided to remove one of the trees. It is sad, because the trees were so vibrant and healthy. Now the tree that is left is dying, we think of a broken heart. Many people don't realize that trees are communal creatures.

Our kittens Rhys and Wyatt are getting  B I G.

Wyatt goes by many different nicknames: Lightning, Stripes McGee, and Ricky Raccoon.

Over the weekend, we got to visit Rhys and Wyatt's sister Miss P (my sis-in-law's kitty). Do you see the family resemblance?  Her eyes are amber like Rhys's and her coloring is a blend of both brothers. All of them have pink noses, and white mittens and shirts.


"The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last for ever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year – the days when summer is changing into autumn – the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change."~ Charlotte's Web by E.B. White

We are in those days now. I am savoring each one of them, although I know 'nothing gold can stay'. ♥

Love and roses,
Sue


Friday, August 31, 2018

Summer Journal: The Mount

Earlier in the summer, I read a historical novel called, A Lady of Good Family, by Jeanne Mackin. It was about young Beatrix Jones Farrand, the first female American landscape architect.  In the novel I learned that Beatrix Jones was Edith Wharton's niece and had spent time at her aunt's country estate, The Mount, in Massachusetts' Berkshire Mountains. Edith designed both the house and gardens at The Mount, and I imagine she must have been an important influence on Beatrix.

While traveling through the Berkshire Mountains one weekend, we stopped at Lenox, Massachusetts to visit The Mount:

Edith loved European gardens and architecture. You approach The Mount by entering a walled courtyard--the first room of many, as Edith envisioned life as a series of rooms and designed her home to reflect her vision:
"But I have sometimes thought that a woman's nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall, through which everyone passes in going in and out; the drawing-room, where one receives formal visits; the sitting-room, where the members of the family come and go as they list; but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned; no one knows the way to the, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes." ~ from The Ghost Stories of Edith Wharton



















































We toured the gardens first:


























After descending a beautiful, wide double staircase to the garden, you encounter the first garden "room": an impressive alle of pleached linden trees known as a "lime walk":

















































































At the end of the lime walk, to the left of the house is the French flower garden. It is a sunny, open garden featuring a central dolphin fountain and pool that is surrounded by mixed beds of colorful perennials and annuals.






Inside the house, Edith favored symmetry and natural light, which you can see in this photo of the gallery. This room was used as a waiting area for guests before they were received into the drawing room.


























Edith disliked socializing and detested "small talk". She had an intimate circle of close friends, among whom Henry James was counted.


























The drawing room still features the original plaster work on the ceilings--it is gorgeous. However, most of the furnishings are historically accurate reproductions, which means that visitors are truly invited in to Edith's world with no need to stand behind velvet ropes.


























Through the doorway in the photo above, you find yourself in Edith's library, the only room with original furnishings (we had to stay behind the velvet ropes).


























My favorite room in the house was Edith's bedroom. She did all of her writing in bed on a lap desk. Guests and household staff knew not to expect to see her until noon each day. She stayed in bed writing until 11 am. As she completed each page, she let it drift to the floor.

Edith began her writing career at the age of thirty-one with the publication of a non-fiction volume called, The Decoration of Houses. She went on to write forty books in forty years and was the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize. She was awarded for her novel The Age of Innocence.


The view from Edith's bedroom window. I need white dotted swiss curtains for my bedroom and that soft blue-gray for my walls. : )



Breaking with tradition, Edith preferred a round dining room table with limited seating. She believed a dinner party should be an intimate affair, ultimately a gathering of equals, as this was most conducive to excellent conversation. 

























We enjoyed our lunch on the beautiful wide terrace that wraps around the back and sides of the house:


Our favorite part of  The Mount was Edith Wharton's "secret garden", a sunken, stone-walled, Italianate garden. We visited the estate on a mizzling day, and the secret garden was several degrees cooler and veiled in silvery mist:


























All of the flowers in this garden are white: astilbe, climbing hydrangea, and jasmine. The effect is wild peace.





































































































































Thank you for reading!

Love and roses,
Sue ♥

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Do you know this flowering shrub? It grows wild in one spot near the pond, or at least it is wild now, although someone may have planted it long ago. It has the most heavenly fragrance. I believe it is called 'summersweet', but I am not certain.
                                                                                                                                                                     

 Someone left this lovely painted stone on one of the trail markers. We were so happy to see it.


 My front door.  Welcome! ♥























































New England spider cake (recipe below).


























This morning, a baby cardinal came to our garden and inspected the feeder.

It was a mostly quiet week which was just lovely. We've had a lot of out-of-town company this summer, with more on the way, so it was nice to have time to potter around the garden and walk in the woods and read and just be.

A couple of weeks ago when I was in Gloucester, I found the slim paperback book pictured above. It is a historical novella called Moss on Stone about Susannah Norwood Torrey who lived on Cape Ann in Rockport during the 19th century. The novella incorporates excerpts from a diary Susannah kept early in her marriage and reads like a memoir. I feel I owe a debt to the author Sandra Williams for introducing me to Susannah. In 'Susa' I have found someone very kindred to myself. The book is a lovely, lovely volume with beautiful illustrations by the author's artist husband, and though it is not an exciting book or a particularly compelling tale, it captures the spirit of a person and place that have captivated me. You can read more about Moss on Stone here.

In the book, Susannah and her husband make a New England spider cake for supper one evening. I had never heard of spider cake. I found a recipe for it here and made it for breakfast yesterday. It is made with cornmeal but does not have the same texture as cornbread. It reminds me of Clafoutis. It was quite good with maple syrup, but I think it would be excellent with fruit preserves, as well.

 New England Spider Cake

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Combine 4 teaspoons of white vinegar in two cups of milk and set aside to sour (it helps to warm the milk slightly first).
In a separate bowl, combine 1 cup of yellow cornmeal, 3/4 cup all purpose flour, 3/4 cup sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon baking soda.
Whisk two eggs into the soured milk. Mix into dry ingredients and set batter aside.
Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a 12 inch cast-iron skillet (I used a regular oven proof skillet). Pour in the batter. Pour 1 cup of heavy cream into the center of the batter. Slide skillet into oven and bake for 40 to 45 minutes or until top is set and golden. Slice into wedges and serve warm with maple syrup or fruit preserves.