Higgledy-Piggledy

This is my higgledy-piggledy garden-a what, you say? According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary higgledy-piggledy means in a confused, disordered or random manner. That's my garden, for sure, but I've done it this way on purpose.

For years I've wanted to be the type of gardener that finds pleasure and healing in working in the dirt, the person that gets lost in the plants and looks up to find darkness descending. That has been quite a struggle-too often gardening was merely a chore and more the idea of working in the yard, as we said in Texas. Weeding for fun? Not for me.

Until...I began to notice the flower gardens of a couple of my friends (Doug and Debbie, that's you). Each had a contained space which was a repository for cuttings and transplants from others, end-of-season annuals and perennials, and plants that would self-seed year after year. No formal borders, no graduated heights. In short, a beautiful higgledy-piggledy display.

I loved these gardens and when we moved to Maryland I asked Bill to dig up a space for one as a birthday gift. As you might imagine that is a lot to ask for, but two years ago my dear husband did just that. The first year was spent getting the soil ready, weeding, removing rocks and planting a big red rose bush that blooms all summer. At this point it was starting to feel like a chore, sadly.

And then the pandemic happened and I had time, lots of it. A neighbor gave me iris, I planted leftover Easter lilies from church, I went to garden centers and bought just what I liked with no thought of color scheme or blooming schedule. I began to be that person that goes out to weed for pleasure!

As you can see from the photo above it really does look a mess, but that's exactly how I want it. Most days in the late afternoon I spend some blissful time checking on it-trimming, weeding, watering, clipping blooms for a bouquet. I sit down in one of the blue chairs and just look.

Lately I've been thinking of my life in terms of higgledy-piggledy.  Director of Music at an Episcopal church, accompanist for a community chorale, spiritual director, retreat leader, devoted wife of 38 years, mother of dear Emily, Nana to 3 beloved grandchildren, daughter whose role is quickly changing, fortunate friend of many.  Sometimes I struggle to keep my life's garden watered, weeded and trimmed. And I wonder is it too full?

As far as the flower garden goes, though, Moxie is always there to help and here he is in the nasturtiums.

Summer's End

 The summer of 2020 was exceptional and I feel a great need to document it with words and photos. In some ways it seemed to endlessly stretch from one impossibly hot and humid day to another, while concurrently it was over in a second. With the advent of an early fall my head and heart have been restored a bit and I can see more clearly.

The first few months of the pandemic allowed us time to expand our vegetable garden, which ended up being a huge disappointment.  We have not managed the transition to gardening in Maryland particularly well!  Have you ever heard of a gardener bemoaning the lack of zucchini? Well, that's us. The basil, on the other hand, was spectacular, and I'd guess that we supplied at least a dozen folks with enough for a good batch of pesto.  Bill's signature crop, garlic, did well-enough.

This was the second year of my higgeldy-piggeldy garden and it came into it's own. Do you know what a higgeldy-piggelgy garden is? The definition of that term is in a confused, disordered, or random manner, and that's exactly what my garden is. Anchored by a few perennials, the garden is home to whatever is on sale at the nursery or has been given to me by friends.  I love it!  St. Francis is hiding in there somewhere-next year he needs moving.

For a few blissful days we were restored by the peace of a cottage in Central Maine.  It was a different sort of Maine trip, due to the pandemic, but I cherish every moment we were there.

The summer was notable in that we finally ate crabs, after 5 years on the Eastern Shore. Courtesy of dear son-in-law Jeff, we sat on the porch and made a huge mess.  Wow, crabs are a lot of work!  I really don't mind eating mine in a crab cake, tho.

And then...it was the summer of our family's relocation to Colorado Springs.  Zev spent a few days every week at Nana Camp and Ari made frequent visits as well.  It was intense, exhausting, and life-giving. There was time to introduce Ari to the books of Robert McCloskey and weekly trips to a farm market for lovely produce and yummy ice cream (especially the peach!). Zev and I greatly expanded our baking repertoire from blueberry muffins to include oatmeal cookies, homemade bread, blueberry crisp and banana muffins. Did we ever make a mess...but oh so much fun.

Bill and I made a similar cross-country leap when we moved from Dallas to Maine in 1993. Begrudgingly I have to say I understand the reasons for the move to Colorado. Of course it is different here without them 55 miles down the road and I miss them terribly. But I am happy for Emily and Jeff and proud of them for trying to do what's best for their family.

How could I not say something about the state of our country and the upcoming election? I am worried, yes, and the above says it all.

Every day I make it a point to remind myself that we are all God's beloved. May we treat each other as such and work for healing and peace.

Happy New Year

Last week I led a Quiet Day at a nearby retreat house. There were 18 of us there on a cold, winter day and we sat around a cozy fireplace in addition to bundling up and walking around the beautiful grounds. I asked the group to think about this season as a hinge between the old year and the one to come and the first question for silent reflection was what gift did you receive in 2019?

Having received too many gifts to even list I wondered how would I choose? But after a few minutes of reflection it came to me, the gift of friendship. Every day I am blessed by contact with friends from Texas to Maine, from childhood to now. I feel loved, accepted, respected. As I wrote about this in my journal I felt a smile on my face and warmth in my heart.

For several years now I've chosen a word for the year rather than some resolution impossible to keep.  The word for 2019 was plant.At the beginning of last year Bill and I had been in Maryland for 3 years and my feet were not yet on the ground.  I complained mightily about the traffic, the summer heat and humidity, and a seeming lack of enthusiasm for classical music.  Having lived in many different places I realized each location has its own personality and way of doing things, and to buck that only brings unhappiness.  It was time to accept, adapt and adjust. So, plan for the traffic, stay in the air-conditioning on a sweltering summer day, and listen to a recording or one of three classical NPR stations available.

Specifically, we've invited frequent dinner guests, attended community events, and hosted a neighborhood party.  And most concretely, with Bill's help, I started a new flower garden which first involved the most basic chore of digging up soil and tilling the ground.  Last summer it looked bare, with a few annuals and a couple of perennials struggling in the newly turned earth.  But little by little, year by year, it will become beautiful, assuming I put in the work.  You see, I took my word plant literally and it made all the difference.

Back to the Quiet Day, I asked the attendees to wander outside to look for signs of new life while thinking about an intent for the new year.  My intent came quickly and easily- write. For four years I have been remiss in writing this blog, which is one of the ways I notate and make sense of my life.  My intent is to post at least twice a month- there, I've said it aloud!  I hope you'll hold me to it.

Happy New Year

Herb Garden Supper

One of our biggest projects here in our new place has been to establish gardens.  Perhaps decades ago someone had a vegetable garden here, but we couldn't find any evidence of it.  Rather than try to tame the local heavy clay soil we opted for raised beds.  Back in January we ordered the wood and Bill began building them.  We had some rich garden loam delivered and a choir member brought over a load of horse manure.  The garden was in business!

As you might expect, gardening is a bit different here than in Maine and it's been a summer of trial and error.  Some crops, such as garlic and beans, were a wipe-out, while others went on a rampage, like the squash, of course.

My first project was an herb garden and I'm sorry to say I didn't keep up with it.  But yesterday, in the midst of the weeds and bolted plants I managed to collect enough for one of my favorite summer dishes, Pasta with Fresh Herbs. This is adapted from the Moosewood Collective's Simple Suppers. It makes just the right amount for 2 servings but can easily be doubled or quadrupled-whatever you need.

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and add about 1/3 pound of pasta and cook until al dente.  (I like to use penne, but use whatever you have on hand.)

Mince a large clove of garlic and 1/2 cup of 3 or 4 fresh herbs (basil, parsley, chives, oregano, thyme, mint or others).  Try to use approximately the same amount of each herb.

Warm a generous tablespoon of olive oil in a small skillet on the stove and add the garlic until it is golden, not brown, about 1 minute.  Add the herbs and cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly.  Add 2-3 tablespoons of the pasta water and remove from heat.

Drain pasta when done and place in a serving bowl, adding the herb and oil mixture and salt and pepper to taste.  Toss in some grated parmesan and serve right away-enjoy!

We braved the heat and sat out on the front porch.  Add some red wine and a green salad and you have a lovely summer meal.