Our favorite place in the summer is the wrap-around-porch. There is usually a breeze somewhere on that porch. Our house was built on the basement of an old house that had burned. Amazingly, the plan we had chosen was almost a perfect fit. It was built by Amish builders. The carved bear was done by them also. The white hydranga is from my friend Mary Ruth's yard. She is 94 and still lives by herself in a little stone cottage on a nearby farm.
My garden is like a memory book of family and friends. I call this rose "Aunt Marie's Rose" after a dear lady in Jack's family. I have given cuttings to many friends, who, in turn have also passed along cuttings. It is a 'repeat' bloomer and will have another show of blooms in later summer.
These lilies came from my mother's yard on Jackson Street in Hamburg. I dug these bulbs and some of her prize iris rhizomes before she sold her home of 50 years. It was the only house I really remember living in. Lots of sweet memories left behind.... The old picket fence came with the yard. Every year Jack props it up and says it probably won't make it through the next winter!
These garden phlox came from my grandmother's backyard. I have transplanted a clump of them everytime we have moved. I can remember, as a child, smelling the sweet fragrance as butterflies fluttered 'round. I would often pick some to put in my playhouse.
This sedum, or Autumn Joy, (I love the name!) is from Louis and Jean, an elderly couple who live in a sweet little cottage in Boxley Valley. There is always something blooming in their garden. He always refers to Jean as "my love". The blooms start in late summer and still look pretty in their dried state in late autumn.
The lavender is one of my favorites (and, obviously the butterflies love it too!). It comes from my friend Debbie's Belle Rose Farm located on Fire Tower Road nearby. I have one plant that is at least six years old. I could never grow lavender in south Arkansas--too humid!
Must go now! Next time we will walk the other side of the yard. Wait till you see my "mountain spa"! Or "hillbilly hot tub, as Regena's husband calls it!
You're only here for a short visit. Don't hurry. Don't worry. And be sure to smell the flowers along the way. The Walter Hagen Story
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