Each Little World

Saving seeds

I don't actually save seeds from plants in my own garden. And when I am smitten with a particular plant and buy a packet of commercial seeds, they tend to die of old age before I ever remember to plant them. Currently those old seed packets are cluttering up the spot in the garage where I keep my garden-related items like kneeling pads and gloves and twine.

But over the years I have amassed a collection of historic, political, sentimental, artistic, theatrical and literary seed packets. These seeds have all been gifts from traveling friends or items in press kits sent to members of the media in my newspaper days. This winter I decided to bring them out into the light of day by framing some of them in a shadow-box. 

At first I thought I would display them on another piece of the silk I used for mounting the antique Chinese collar embroidered with birds and flowers. But I didn't like the effect and decided that something more neutral was required.

I decided that lightly textured drawing paper would not take attention away from the seed packets the way the silk did. I tried a number of different colors but finally opted for an army green, as you can see from the finished project below.

At first I hung the "box" on the wall in my workroom/studio. Then I decided to just set it on my desk where it leans against the wall next to my computer. This location means that I see it every time I sit down at the computer. And it is close enough that I can easily identify all the packets.

Literary seeds (top left): A wildflower mix from the 2004 press kit for "Whose Garden Is It," a children's book written by Mary Ann Hoberman and illustrated by Jane Dyer. 

Historic seeds: Nigella Damascene from Monticello (one of many quirky garden gifts from my former boss at The Capital Times newspaper, 1998)

Sentimental seeds: A memento given to those who attended Fred Risser's 90th birthday celebration last summer. It was a cold and rainy day but still a big turnout. Fred represents our district in the Wisconsin State Senate. He is the longest serving state legislator in the nation. Fred and his wife are also serious gardeners.

More historic seeds (bottom row): Yarrow seeds from Mt. Vernon and Reine Marguerite seeds (Aster chinensis) from the Jardin de Versailles.

Political seeds: Golden Bantam heirloom corn variety from Dennis Kucinich's 2004 presidential campaign whose slogan was "Planting Seeds of Hope." If you ever want to hear a fiery, old-fashioned political speech that will get you ready to go door-to-door campaigning, go hear Dennis Kucinich.  

Looking at this little shadowbox of seed packets you can't tell how much time I spent trying to figure out which packets to include based on size, color and imagery. Compare this seed package from Thomas Jefferson's garden with the framed one. This illustration of Columbine is charming but the image of the beautiful brick building in Jefferson's vegetable garden is iconic and tells you right away where those seeds are from.

This package of wildflower seeds is from a theatrical press kit for this 1998 movie. I don't see the connection but I love it none the less. But way too attention-grabbing to go in the shadow box. At this point Martha's seeds are historic as she doesn't sell them any more — and they're from 2000! Visually, they pair nicely with Cate Blanchett but not with my other seed packages.

Seeds from the Wisconsin Green party and a package from an art exhibit.

The other side of the above packages. The small envelope is from Ralph Nader's 2000 presidential campaign. I don't really remember this art project but, according to myth, the flowers that sprang from Hyacinth's blood when he died were called hyacinthos. However, they are not our modern hyacinth but were probably some kind of fritillary. Thus I am not sure if it make sense to give out Hyacinth seeds as tokens of forgiveness. Maybe the artist knows something I don't.

 

This was another perfect little winter project — and nicely suited to display in a room devoted to art and gardening. Oh yes, I moved it back to a wall position but this one right next to the door into the studio where it can't be missed.

 

Suddenly Spring!

Sunday was all blue skies, sunshine, breezes and melting snow running in rivulets everywhere. Monday was more of the same but with a nice boost in the temperature into the high 40s. Today there's been another spike in the temperature well-into the mid-50s at the moment.

Whether March will arrive like a lamb or a lion later this week, I know that it is unlikely we've seen the end of snow and cold. I am not moving one sodden leaf off of anything yet, despite the fact that very early plants like Arum italicum are pushing through. Usually the leaves of this beautiful foliage plant are a pattern of green and white, but I love this quirky yellow-green version just as much. I'm sure it's a weather-related color fluctuation.

I've been going out to check on the progress of the snowdrops on the south side of the house. They started poking up yesterday, only the third time they've made an appearance in February in the thirteen years I've been recording when they arrive. Not much to look at but an exciting moment nevertheless.

Whether we will have a long enough streak of warmer weather to make the snowdrops bloom this early is still the unanswered question. The plants like Hellebores and Epimediums (below) that typically remain green under the winter snow cover did not do that this year. Too much extreme cold without snow turned everything brown and crunchy. They eventually got buried but it was too late. Just more brown leaves wherever I look, which makes the appearance of the snowdrops even more of a thrill. 

Naked trees

"I'm not sure you really know a tree until you've seen it

without its leaves. Naked, so to speak.

They are often at their most peaceful and romantic in winter,

like watching a loved one sleep."

. . .

— Nigel Slater, The Christmas Chronicles

Mark snapped this gorgeous little scene a few years ago at the Chicago Botanic Garden. We were there for a winter lecture by famed English garden designer Dan Pearson. 

Fiber Friday: Whirling Return of the Ancestors

Mark and I went to the opening reception for "The Whirling Return of the Ancestors: Egungun Arts of the Yoruba in Africa and Beyond" last month at the Ruth Davis Design Gallery on campus. Mark took photos while I schmoozed with friends. As always, the people who come to these fabulous textile exhibits wear their own finery. No matter where you look there is something interesting to see.

The exhibit runs through April 8th and there are a number of special programs in conjunction with it which I've listed below the photographs. 

There is more in-depth information about the work in the exhibit and a short video on the gallery's website (click link above).

. . .

Captivated by the gallery's window display

Drop-dead drama inside the gallery

This exhibit was researched, organized, and curated by students in the fall 2017 Art History Curatorial Studies-Exhibition Practice class taught by Evjue-Bascom Professor Henry Drewal (below).

The opening included an evocative Yoruba language call-and-respone performance led by the gentleman below.

Lots of discussion about the items on display

Watching the videos of Egungun dancers on an almost wall-sized screen

Rumi (center) and Jim O'Brien talk with another gallery visitor. Rumi had a show of her own stunning artwork in a variety of media in the gallery at this same time last year.

Professor Drewal stayed in the gallery answering questions . . .

and more question about the exhibit.

Lots of great clothes — especially headgear — was in evidence on gallery-goers

A series of public programs will supplement the exhibition:
Email Will Porter, Events Coordinator of the African Studies Program, at [email protected] for questions about event times, locations, or other details.

· Thursday, March 1, 6-7 pm: Death, Culture & Coffee: Honoring ancestors in Madison
Room 1199 Nancy Nicholas Hall, School of Human Ecology, 1300 Linden Drive
Join the African Studies Program for coffee and conversation on the ways that we honor our own ancestors in Madison. Four local presenters will discuss some of the funerary practices and traditions observed within various communities in the Madison area. Light refreshments provided. Please feel welcome to arrive early and visit the gallery exhibition prior to attending to the presentation.

Presenters:
Karen Reppen, Death Awareness Educator
Elizabeth Humphries, Death Midwife
Bryan Foster, Foster Funeral Services
Shedd Farley, Linda and Gene Farley Center for Peace, Justice and Sustainability

· March 7, 2018: Lecture-demo about African American Second-Line funeral processions in New Orleans
· April 5-8, 2018: Performances by a troupe of Egúngún masqueraders, singers, and drummers from Ọ̀yọ́tunji Village, South Carolina, who will give workshops at UW-Madison, the Madison Children’s Museum, and a Madison public school
· April 6-7, 2018: Two-day Symposium on the theme Honoring Ancestors in Africa: Arts and Actions

The beginnings of our house

We bought our house in 1994 from a young doctor and his family who purchased it from the Don Smith family who built it, and had been living in it since the mid-1950s. The doc and his family lived here less than two years before they sold the house to us. This summer we will have been here 25 years. 

When we bought the house we were thrilled to discover the original owners left behind some wonderful documentation. Among the material the Don Smith family left was this article from one of the popular magazines of the 1950s. I believe they bought these plans because this is our house — minus some later alterations. The biggest changes were a large addition and moving the front entrance. 

This is the advertising flyer from the man who developed our neighborhood which is known as Orchard Ridge. 

 

This is the reverse side of the above flyer and shows the proposed "Beltline Highway" that would get you downtown in 12 minutes. The Beltine was built and will still get you downtown in 12 minutes — but only early on a Sunday morning. The rest of the time it is almost always full of traffic. 

This is a sketch the landscape designer, Arthur Kreft, did showing all the trees and shrubs that were planted after the house was built. We were able to use this plan to identify everything still growing on the property when we bought it. And quite a few are still here.  

If you've bought many trees or shrubs, you will definitely enjoy this price list from the mid-1950s.

Come back tomorrow to see the history of our house in photographs. Click on any of the pictures to enlarge them so you can read the details.

Under the weather

It rained for much of the day on Monday and Tuesday. Mark and I barely noticed as he is down with full blown flu/bronchitis. I have an itchy throat but think my aches are from sleeping on the couch for the last three nights. We only left the house to pick up meds and to vote in an important election.

While we were out we were both struck by the glow of the the Japanese and Korean maples that have had leaves on them all winter. They were bronzed with an inner gold flame reminiscent of the Ash trees which we so recently lost. 

The tree below is our Koran maple (Acer pseudosieboldianum) with a vernal Witch Hazel in the lower right of the photo. Our native Witch Hazels often have leaves on them when they are flowering, making it hard to see the blossoms, which are not that obvious to begin with!

Dreaming of June

Last June we toured a private garden that verged on what I would consider an estate garden. Certainly its location in the Highlands neighborhood right next door to the home of the president of the UW System, suggested a treat was in store. As it turned out, the homeowner — who is also the chief gardener and designer — was as down to earth as his garden was heavenly. 

Love the way the flower buds on the Spirea echo the foliage on the Barberry.

The same plants from the first two images above but viewed from a distance.

This is a closer look at the plants on the left side of the grass path above.

Not many of us have gardens where the grass paths widen out into serenely beautiful spaces where you can sit back and reflect.

The photo above and the two below all show the same area but from different viewpoints. 

The variegated leaves on the Dogwood tree are the clue to where you are.

On the wall on Monday: Chinese flowers

I bought this embroidered Chinese collar so long ago that I am no longer exactly sure of the circumstances of its purchase, though I believe it was a rummage-sale type of fund-raiser for the old Madison Art Center. Judging by this textile, the items for sale were not your ordinary second-hand goods.

This would have been part of a Chinese robe, though everyday or ceremonial I can't say. I can say however that it is a lovely piece of work.

It's heavy dark blue silk covered in embroidered birds and flowers, along with scallops created out of couched gold thread. 

For years I thought I would add it to a collarless fabric jacket so I could wear it myself. But eventually I decided if it was ever going to live anywhere but in a dark drawer, I should mount it. And so I did. I will say that sewing a heavy silk item to lighter silk fabric using silk thread, silk pins and even a silk needle was a lot harder than I expected.

But now that it's done I'm more than happy with the results. For the time being I decided to just put it on top of one of the bookcases in the studio. The basket is part of my small collection of Ikebana containers, though it is Japanese not Chinese.

My sister-in-law said I needed to put something in with the collar to indicate its size. The stretched silk frame is 22 inches wide (55.88 cm.) x 26 inches high (60.96cm.). I think the dollar bill works nicely to show the scale of the collar. 

Still no flowers from my garden. Snowdrops are the blooms I usually see first as I have some planted close to the house on the south side. But until they appear, my flowers may be pretty but they won't be living. To see what other gardeners could actually pick from their garden, visit Cathy at Rambling in the Garden who hosts this addictive Monday meme.

A difficult choice . . .

I couldn't resist sharing this cartoon from the Feb.5, 2018 issue of The New Yorker.

 

A river runs through it

Despite the fact that it will be weeks before I can work outside again, garden concepts are never far from my mind. Ideas and inspiration percolate regardless of the season. This is a "river of Iris" that I am trying to create in my garden.

. . . 

Spreading down the slope from the front support post of our Tea House are dwarf Iris cristata. This is a lovely little plant that will flower in a fair amount of shade and seems to have no pests or problems. 

I really need to divide them again so they fill in on the upper slope to the same degree that they have at the bottom of the hill. I love how they've spread around the stone there.

The lower part of my river of Iris is just the straight species. The upper part is a named variety with bigger flowers that are more intensely blue. But they don't quite bloom together. So in addition to filling in "the river," I need to mix the two types of Iris together so the bloom is equally spread out.

Iris cristata's leaves look good all through the growing season and flowers don't make an unsightly mess as they fade. They're shallow rooted and so easy to transplant.

This Iris grows so well in shade that I've spread it across the gravel garden where it's partly under a Hemlock. But it doesn't flower all that long, so it's a good thing I love foliage. For the same "river of plants" concept — in sun and with a longer flowering period — read on.

While I have swaths of a number of plants in my garden like my stream of Iris cristata, nothing beats this stunning river of Geraniums at Adrain Bloom's Foggy Bottom garden in the UK. The Geranium is 'Rozanne' since you would want an almost continuously blooming plant to keep this effect going for as long as possible. The photo is by Adrian's son, Richard Bloom, a renowned photographer of gardens and landscape. Though I love my river of Iris, it rather pales in comparison to this display.

Here is similar effect using Japanese blood grass, also at Adrian Bloom's garden. I've got a clump of this grass starting to spread in my front garden. Now that I've seen this image, I think I need to orchestrate more thoughtfully how and where I let this bright foliage go. You don't get this kind of "wow" moment without a plan!

I recently ordered a couple of Adrian Bloom's books from my local library. Few families have the kind of garden history, knowledge and plant introductions that the Blooms' can lay claim to. And few gardens are as gorgeous as his family's Bressingham Gardens or Adrian's own Foggy Bottom garden and woods dedicated to North American trees. Every image on their website and blog — no matter the season — is an inspiration. And Bloom's books — even the older ones — are well worth a read. I've learned a lot on subjects I thought I knew!