Before… a blank canvas.

I love to see before and after pictures of gardens. It’s very inspiring to view the transformation of a space and what a difference plants can make. First, let me say that I am not a garden designer. I am a graphic designer/artist that looks at gardening a lot like painting. I am a plopper of plants… not a planner of plants. Horrors! I know. If a plant doesn’t work in a certain space I dig it up and plop it somewhere else. When I purchase plants I am thinking color, texture, scale, repetition… just like a painting or illustration. It is a very intuitive process. An experimentation of sorts.

In design school I had a Austrian professor who insisted that good design was like an English Garden- full of repetition, contrast, texture, shape and line. He also said “sink” instead of “think”. “I sink good design is like a beautiful English Gaw-den.” Think Schwarzenegger. Perhaps it was his “Terminator- like” accent that struck fear into me- but I’ve never forgotten his comparison of graphic design and gardening.

My gardens have evolved over the years. In the beginning all of my perennials were divisions or  transplants from my mother’s beautiful garden in Rochester, NY. Our home was built in the middle of a hay field with nary a tree within stones throw or shade’s distance. Talk about starting from scratch. I purchased this puny little weeping crab (Red Jade) that had maybe 5 branches on it from a local independent nursery. The owner of the nursery insisted that it would grow laterally- fill the space that I had designated for it. My thought… when eating in the dining room I did not want to look out and see the driveway or our company’s vehicles. As you will see boy did that little crabapple ever do its job! So much so that when the tree leafs out I can barely see the kids playing in the driveway or who just drove up. But… oh the view from inside! Flowers in the spring, a little shady spot in the summer and crabapples in the winter.

On with the pictures!

Skinny little weeping crab (Red Jade). Dining room inside triple window.

Before any hardscaping. Japanese Maple (Bloodgood) in foreground next to Sunset Rock- a boulder dug up during excavation… a perfect seat for watching the sunset.

Perennials filling in.

3 years later.

Small fountain surrounded by hosta and irises with bleeding heart in background and lady’s mantle in the foreground.

Finished fieldstone walkway. Farmboy and I made it from stone pulled from the fields before spring planting… took what seemed like an eternity to finish.

Plantings of lavender, lady’s mantle, boxwood, spirea, lupines and Americana rose on trellis.

Walkway lined with Royal Standard hosta on left and boxwood hedge to right.

View to the barns from the driveway over looking the entrance garden. Japanese Maple to the right. Daisies, lavender and astillbe in the foreground. Sunset Rock behind lavender blooms.

Thank you for taking the tour with me. I hope it provides inspiration!

Did you know that as the days get longer it triggers the horse’s coat to begin to shed? I had always assumed that it was warmer temps that brought on those full grooming brushes. This is my fuzzy Paley with snowy whiskers that need trimming. She’s a delight. A long time friend.

My vegetable garden expansion took place last spring. Farmboy was busy farming, the ground was workable and I had the skid steer! My exisiting vegetable garden was a series of 9 raised beds about 3 ft wide by 5 ft. long running north to south. My sister kindly pointed out that it looked like a graveyard. I’m not a rectangle with rows kind of gal. I need paths. A destination. It needs to charm me, enchant me… maybe I just wanted a place for the kids to play without stepping all over everything. I needed paths. I digress.

View of old garden raised beds (early spring). Note playset in background… picture two-story state of the art chicken condo in a couple of years. Don’t tell the kids.

New area to the left.

I started my expansion by layering composted horse manure from the barn and topsoil. Hmmm. If I had planned it on paper I wouldn’t have made a giant raised rectangle. It was supposed to be left until Fall but I COULD NOT leave it alone. I had to see structure, shape, green plants… and paths. Out of that huge rectangle, I dug out my little paths. Ahhh. Structure. Geometry. A destination. I worked like a crazyperson. It had to be done. I couldn’t garden in half of that space and watch the weeds take over the other half.

I added a bench to sit and rest from my path making madness. On Mother’s Day I was given a lovely birdbath/fountain to add as the focal point of my emerging potager. I added an apple tree to each side of the bench as well as Little Gem globe arborvite to mark the entrance and termination of the two main paths.

View to the west through the pea trellises.

Once the paths were established I added landscape fabric and mulch to keep the weeds at bay.  Along the raised edges I planted nasturtiums to keep the weeds down. They were very prolific and effective. Note to self: plant dwarf varieties next year.

View through side perennial garden and arbor into the potager (towards south).

View of potager (mid summer) from house.

View to east through center axis.

View to west from bistro set.

The bistro set was a welcome addition to the potager. La La and the Bean enjoyed breakfast out there on numerous occasions. Junebug (my mom) and I contemplated life, gardening and much more while watching the sunset and having a glass of wine. LaLa often brought us appetizers of chives, broccoli, mint and fresh green peppers.

Mid summer view to the south with oats in background.

View from studio in late fall.

First snow 2009. (view from studio)

Next year I hope to add two more fruit trees. One on either side of the bistro set as well as some type of fencing. I am entertaining the idea of a picket fence. One day perhaps the paths will be in some sort of stone. I think I’m ready to add permanence to the shape. My main quandary at this time is where to hide the compost pile.: )

oats in my bucket
do you have oats too paley?
i like to eat them.

here comes farmboy again.
there goes that rake flashing by.
crunch crunch in my teeth.

there is a brown deer
i hope it doesn’t eat me
better to stay still

what’s that on the ground
following me every step
oh its just my hoof

michelle just came in
she turns, halter in her hand
yawn, stretch, pick me first!

Machinery is getting moved around at the farm. I can hear tractors, trucks and the combine faintly. It’s that time of year again. The corn has turned that beautiful soft pale ochre that I love. It sparkles against the dark fall sky. The clouds are getting fluffier, bolder in their reminder of what is coming.

It’s often a stressful time of year. Farmboy comes home from his 9 to 5 job, changes clothes and goes to the farm to do what is possible in the dark. Thankfully the combine has lights. He often can go into the evening long after the kids have been put to bed. They miss him and so do I.

Farming was foreign to me growing up in Mississippi. My grandparents had land and cows. Every now and then timber was harvested. My grandfather had the most beautiful vegetable garden. Our freezer was always stocked with brown peas, butter beans and okra. That is all I knew about farming.

The first time I visited Farmboy’s farm I was enchanted- the barns, the land, the sunsets. On the surface it was all so romantic and picturesque. I was so naive. I was clueless. I didn’t know the dangers of spinney things, the neverending jobs, the dependence on the weather, the delicate relationships of farm families. To me, harvest meant- Cornicopia! Harvest moon! the warm fuzzies! The first year after we were married I was in a state of shock. I mean, I know I got married… I saw the pictures. My husband was no where to be found. Now, memories are funny… especially mine because I seem to have so few of them, but that year was tough. I wondered what in the world I had done. I’m no princess but geez, how do you compete with a mistress so demanding?

Sixteen years later, how lovely that mistress is. She is still demanding, sometimes dangerous and wildly unpredictable, but how she revives me. How she revives Farmboy. He would suffer without her. Now I am happy when he is with her. She is good for us. She is a blessing. She embraces our children. I’m thankful that they have this taste of life. Both of our children have slept strapped to their dad in a baby bjorn in the heated cab of the combine on snowy nights. I am also thankful that Farmboy has a job off the farm. He doesn’t like the term “gentleman farmer” but I think its fitting because for us it works. Somehow he and his dad make it all happen after hours and on the weekends. I don’t know how full-time farmers do it but that is another post.

Who doesn’t want a pony? When have you ever NOT wanted a pony? Everytime anyone ever asked me “guess what’s in the box?”, “the car?”, “the barn?”, “the envelope?”, my answer was… “A pony??!!!!”(fingers crossed).  When I was little I did get my sisters’ handmedown pony when they outgrew him. Tony the Pony. His nose could fit in a teacup. He was a stinker but loved and adored.

Welcome Queenie. A fiesty little Pinto mare. She is fitting right in and hopefully will one day earn her keep. Ha. Makes me laugh to think that. Riding lessons for the kids are going pretty well although it is hard to find the time. LaLa prefers English and The Bean prefers Western. Riding was/is such a part of my life I do hope they take to it and that it becomes something we can all do together.