Each Little World

A blue Christmas

When you grow up as one of four sisters, you always imagine yourselves as "Little Women." I just never thought of one of us as Beth March. My 2nd youngest sister, Meg, died on December 16, 2021, having contracted a very rare version of an equally rare autoimmune disease that attacked her lungs.

Meg was working full time, taking care of her house, planning trips and making art — a month before she died. You can imagine what a shock it's been. Even more heartbreaking because Christmas Day is her birthday.

I've spent my life defining myself as a Brazill sister. I always picture the four of us standing together throughout life, much more than I think of each of us as individuals. We've lost our witty, wacky and wonderful partner — which means we will never be those Brazill sisters again. 

THE ONLY TIME THE FOUR OF US EVER ATTENDED A CONCERT TOGETHER: JONI MITCHELL IN TORONTO, 1972 (MEG'S IN PINK)

1988

1992

2004

2010

There are a few other photos taken of us together over the years, but these are my favorites. Living in four different states, we didn't get together as a foursome as much as we hoped we would.

The last time we were all together, it was a family gathering that included adult children, their spouses and children. It was a swirling mass of activity; so much so that we never managed to get one last picture taken of the four of us, alone together. 

IVOM: Another book for bouquets

"The Land Gardeners Cut Flowers" by Bridget Elworthy and Henrietta Courtauld is the polar opposite of "Ikebana Unbound." It is a big, extravagant, pricey book that is drop dead gorgeous ($60.00, Thames & Hudson). I am a sucker for British gardens and gardeners, so I was thrilled to be able to borrow this from my local library.

It is an elegant and beautifully designed volume with red and white striped endpapers, calligraphic title pages and recurring chapter motifs that are taken from the interior of Elworthy's 15th C. house. That's where the two women headquarter their business; specializing in cut flowers grown on the site for London florist shops and private clients. They also design walled gardens. 

The book is endlessly inspiring and at the same time overwhelmingly frustrating for most of us home gardeners. Even those who have enough space to allocate for cut flowers will be speechless at the sight of the multiplicity of gardens devoted to various kinds of flowers grown for cutting by the two women at Elworty's evocative Arts and Crafts estate, Wardington Manor (below).

I have a big brown and white pitcher that belonged to my grandmother that's reminiscent of the one on the book's cover. That was enough to convince me I had something in common with Elworthy and Courtauld. As I went deeper into their book I discovered that, despite the age of their house and the size of the gardens, these two women are serious gardeners. Serious about soil, compost and green manure. Their motto is "it all begins in the soil." Despite the gorgeousness of their surroundings, the two are not dilettantes. 

The book has a good map of the property and gardens to help you understand just where they are growing different groups of flowers. They talk about "your cut flower garden" and offer advice on subjects ranging from tools, seed collecting, creating the garden beds, paths, potting sheds and staking. They offer a "year of flowers" based on the four seasons and information on a wide array of plants from annuals to trees and shrubs. 

I don't have a dedicated cut flower garden and I am not going to create one. So I was most interested to see what kind of things they put in vases. For starters, Elworthy and Courtauld devote a section of the book to their "flower room." They cover gathering and preparing flowers for arrangements and potting up bulbs for seasonal displays.

I have as many vases and containers as they do, with a sink as big — though not as antique — as theirs. What was most encouraging is that their containers were filled with things most of us can grow: Lilacs, Peonies, Daffodils, Dahlias, Winter Berries and even, Rhubarb. 

The flowers shown are usually identified, so you could potentially grow something you like in the book. But I've learned over the years that many lovely varieties of plants are not available in the U.S.; or take a lot of effort to find. But some flowers the two showcased — like Peonies — included many varieties that are easily found here, like 'Coral Charm' and 'Pillow Talk.'

I'm growing one of the three daffodils in the vase above and I've already found sources for the other two varieties they mentioned. I'm looking forward to doing my version of that display and using my assorted blue and white containers to exhibit spring bulbs with white flowers as Elworthy and Courtauld do. 

I can't quite picture myself buying this book. But I know that I will be checking it out from my library again. And probably, again.

A green December

The storms that swept through the Midwest on Wednesday night did little serious damage near us. We lost power during the night and the winds sounded scary; in the morning everything looked the same as it had the day before and for a number of days before that. It has been fascinating to walk around the garden and see what plants still have not given up despite frosts and lack of rain. 

Polystichum makinoi with Adiantum venustum

The fronds are turning purplish-bronze but they are still mainly upright. I am not sure if it's the result of the fern's own hardiness or its protected location. 

Both my newest and oldest clumps of Dryopteris erythrosora 'Brilliance' are all standing tall and looking perfectly happy. I wish they had their autumn coloration now as well as in the spring. 

I put in two plants of Asarum splendens in 2019. Last summer I divided them and spread them around a bit. So far it has not been as aggressive as the native variety; nor has it gone dormant the moment it got cold. It is lovely to have that foliage instead of a big bare spot. 

I put a piece of Arum italicum 'Ghost' from the large mother plant in with this variegated ivy. The ivy makes the Arum foliage have a much more yellow cast than I ever noticed in the location. 

Epimedium 'Domino' has never slowed down. It's been a drama queen all season. 

I'm enjoying the sight of all this greenery in the garden; but I'm definitely ready for the moisture and insulation of some snow.

GBBD: 12.12.2021

It's December in Wisconsin so it's not exactly the moment to find flowers in my garden. We are not buried under snow like last year, however, and so I did unearth a few things hidden under the leaves yesterday afternoon. It's foggy this morning with a forecast of rain and possible severe storms. The temperature at 8 a.m. is 52°F.

I clipped enough Helleborus niger flowers to fill three small Heath vases that I put in my bathroom. I used their colors as the theme for a bit of holiday decor. 

The buds in this vase on the other side of my vanity sink haven't opened yet. 

I love the pattern on this vase against the tissue holder's faux shagreen. 

I used Hellebore foliage in two of the vases. 

In the third I put a leaf from a Hepatica and a frond from a Hart's Tongue fern.

I've been cutting Hellebore flowers from one plant for over a month. Each one lasts at least two weeks so I should be able to enjoy these right up to Christmas. 

Christmas weather

It looks like Christmas indoors at our house. I started decorating the day after Thanksgiving. 

I am making a point of reading in the evening, ensconced in my grandfather's chair in the red room with the my glittery pink tree aglow.

"The Animal's Merry Christmas" was one of our favorite books as kids. So I had to buy a copy when it was reissued a few years ago. I read a couple of my favorite stories and then turned to some I remembered less well. "Green Christmas" is a long poem where the animals say

"When the ground is bare of ice and snow,

And stars are bright, and the winds don't blow.

Hurrah for Christmas and still no snow."

In the days when I used to drive or fly out East to spend Christmas with my family, nothing would have made me happier than a dry, green December. Pretty much the weather we're having now. The temperatures the next few days are all going to get up in the 40°s, culminating in a potential high on Wednesday into the 60°s. It's a weather pattern that I no longer desire and can barely enjoy. 

These days I agree with the townsfolk in the poem:

"It's not like Christmas without some snow!"

Sigh the townsfolk, wishing the wind would blow — 

I don't need any blowing wind, but I would be happy to have the seasons resemble those I grew up with; before we unleashed climate change upon ourselves and our world. 

A new fence

I posted these first two images in the summer of 2020 when I was writing about garden reality versus the pictures we post on FB, Instagram and our blogs. 

This was the state of our Arborvitae hedge along the west property line after almost 20 years. It was being shaded out by trees we planted and damaged by snowfalls and snow piles from our neighbor's parking spot. 

In December of 2020, we had a big snowstorm which brought down one of the trunks of the neighbor's Arborvitae tree (rear of the scene) and almost flattened our hedge on the right. This year we kissed the hedge goodbye and Mark took it out. 

Mark checked with the neighbors and the city and located the lot line. Then we decided on the kind of fence we wanted to put in, in place of the hedge. It's cedar, board-on-board, meaning the front and back sides are the same. The boards are the same width as the ones on the neighbor's fence, so ours will complement theirs (below). Ours will also fade to the same subtle gray color. 

We used a company called Amerifence. The gentleman who came out to talk to us and give us the estimate and the team who put in the fence were all pleasant and professional. On Tuesday of this week they put in the metal support posts. 

They came back the next day to attach the boards. 

We get along well with these neighbors and have a gate into their garden in the fence that separates our properties farther down this side of the garden. They knew we wanted to hide their white vehicles, so they were fine with the type and height of fence we put in. 

There's so much greenery on both sides that the fence will be much less noticeable in the growing season. 

The crew was very respectful of the plantings and followed the gravel path through the front garden; which meant walking along meandering curves to avoid dormant plants and a lot of "fern crowns."

Even thought the fence was just a long straight line, I was amazed to watch it all come together so quickly. 

Look at the way those River Birch trunks show up against it.

It's such an attractive backdrop, I think I will plant more big ferns in front of it. 

It really changes the view of the front garden as you come down our street. Mark thinks the fence will become the landmark people look for when they come to our house in the future. I think he's correct for now. But I'm guessing it will be barely noticed once the garden is green again. 

Pods and more pods

The last year or two we had fewer Honeylocust pods; meaning fall cleanup was much easier. This summer's hot dry weather sent the trees into overdrive producing record numbers of seedpods. We've filled bags full of them to take to the dump; usually working while the wind continued to knock them down on top of us.

They've carpeted the ground under the 'Golden Shadows' Dogwood and everywhere else you look. We've managed to get them off the pond, the paths and the area around the Tea House. There's still going to be an awful lot to clean up in the spring, and the weather's turned nasty enough that I'm not tempted to do any more work outdoors at the moment. 

IVOM: A book for bouquets

I recently discovered a wonderful little book for those of us who post every Monday about the bouquets we make each week. It was a serendipitous find on the "new books" shelf at my local library as I had not heard or read anything about it. Authors Amanda Luu and Ivanka Matsuba, of Studio Mondine, describe their book, "Ikebana Unbound," as "a modern approach to the ancient Japanese art of flower arranging." I was hooked from the moment I looked at the image on the cover.

The book opens with a brief introduction to the history of Ikebana and a helpful section on basic techniques of flower arranging. There was not a lot of information that was entirely new to me, but it was a good reminder that I could be doing a lot more to create the kind of floral displays that I am drawn to — and don't quite manage to create. The book ends with a nice list of resources I perused online for a quite a long time, making notes and contemplating tools and containers. 

"Ikebana Unbound" is divided into four sections: Naturalness, Movement, Balance and Simplicity. Each one begins with a brief introduction to a specific concept of Japanese philosophy as it relates to the flower projects and techniques. Each arrangement has a title that illustrates the theme and a paragraph that explains the ideas behind the arrangement. Each one lists the flowers used (not always with botanical names) and shows in a series of photos and descriptions how to recreate that display. 

The names the pair have given to each arrangement perfectly encapsulates the concept of that display. A few of my favorites: Into Spring, Cresting Wave, In the City, Alone Together, Haystacks and Oudolf's Meadow. What really excited me about the arrangements in this book is the fact that many of them use flowers and plants I am actually growing in my garden or have something similar to use for the desired effect. They use spring blooms like Tulips, Daffodils. Fritillary, Muscari and Hellebores as well as a lot of grasses and dried material. I even saw 'Diablo' Ninebark and 'Black Barlow' columbine — two stars in my garden — in various displays. 

I have a number of books on Ikebana and even took a workshop on the subject. But reading "Ikebana Unbound" is the first time I've felt like the concepts and themes made sense to me. I look forward to trying my hand at any number of the ideas within its pages. Definitely a book to own ($24.95, Artisan/Workman publisher).

Cyclamen shooters

When I placed a late summer order with the excellent Avant Gardens in Dartmouth, Massachusetts in 2018, they included a Cyclamen purpurescens as a gift. It was a delightful surprise as I'd been curious to try Cyclamen but was a little hesitant to take the plunge. That plant settled in beautifully and encouraged me to try more. They've even seeded around a bit. Of course, in a location that makes it extremely difficult to safely move the plant elsewhere. C. purpurescens 'pewter leaf' is growing under bricks that edge one of the gravel paths. 

This year I decided to try C. hederifolium, ivy-leafed Cyclamen, They did well for their first year in my garden; given it was a very hot and dry season for us. This year I also finally discovered the marvelous twisted stems of the Cyclamen are not holding flower buds. 

Those are seeds ready to be scattered into the wider world when the pods split open. 

These twisted stems with their precious seed pods are one more reason to love this little charmer. They make the plant just as interesting as when it's in bloom. 

December delights

Despite overnight lows down into the teens and snow flurries a number of times last month, my garden is surprisingly green for December 1st. Of course, my conifers are the green mainstay once serious snow arrives. For now, however, quite a few plants are still providing bursts of greenery.

Many of  my Carexes retain their color, but none looks better than C. plantaginea. I have it growing in ground cover swaths as well as specimen plants like this one along the stone steps up into the front garden. 

At the top of the steps is one of many Christmas ferns (Polystichum acrostichoides), all looking good. This fern takes a while to attain a decent size; but once there, it is an instant garden treasure. 

Not far from the Christmas fern is this big patch of Epimedium perralchicum 'Weihenstephan'. This is one variety that retains good looking green foliage longer than any other Epimedium variety in my garden. 

This Helleborus foetidus functions as a shrub in the back garden. 

Luzula sylvatica 'Solar Flare' is interspersed among Hellebores and spring snowdrops. It keeps its bright yellow green color until the snow covers it. 

Euphorbia 'Ascot Rainbow' is a Zone 6 plant that has survived for three years in my Z5 garden. It always looks good but the plant is shrinking rather than growing. 

Last spring I moved and divided my Autumn fern (Dryopteris erythrosora 'Brilliance'). It has taken a long time for me to finally find the right home for this fern but all of them settled in beautifully and are still looking sprightly. 

I keep adding interesting ferns when I see them. Polystichum makinoi is from a PNW nursery but has done well here. 

The deceptively delicate-looking Adiantum venustum aka the Himalayan maidenhair fern. When this fern is happy it can be a bit of a monster. Another clump of it is currently eating an Epimedium that may not survive the process. 

There are a number of Digitalis seedlings in the garden which make it look like spring is almost here!