Each Little World

Going forward

If you noticed the headline on yesterday's post you will have figured out that I republished my very first blog post to acknowledge my 15th anniversary of blogging. I started my blog after a 30-year career in journalism that ended as my liberal local newspaper left print behind and went digital. They needed to seriously reduce the staff and my job was eliminated as they reconfigured the newsroom.

Most of the people who left were like me: long-time journalists who were nearing retirement. None of us was ready to leave and we definitely were not ready to see our daily paper fade into the ether. 

All this is to say that I taught myself to blog to show that this old dog could learn new tricks. If you go back to my early posts you will see that they read like newspaper or even magazine articles; long, literary and covering a variety of subjects. Over the years I've pretty much concentrated on gardening as that has consumed more and more of my mental and physical energy.

I used to check my stats but haven't done it for years. Mark, however, took a look. He said that in fifteen years I've put up 3,005 posts or 200 times per year or every 2 days; however one wants to break it down. I've averaged 222 page views per day or 404 per post. You've commented 16,328 times or 5.5 per post. Not exactly an influencer or as influential as a number of you whose excellent blogs have resulted in books, lectures and more.

These days I'm self-publishing my own garden books but I was on the lecture circuit for years; going back to the early 1990s using slides. I've got a library of over 7,000 slides that are all archivally filed, labeled and cross-referenced and I'm on my 26th volume of hand-written garden journals.

All of which is to say that I'm 76 years old. If I want to read more, draw more, make more books, see friends more — do anything more often — then blogging needs to happen less frequently. How much less?? I'm not sure; but definitely on a more random schedule when I have something to share. I know many of you only at a distance. But I've met a surprising number of you in person because you brought a tour here (Daniel Mount), were visiting Madison (Flingers, Kris in Kansas City) or you live here and read my newspaper columns long before I stared blogging. 

I may be ready to blog less but I'm not ready to give up all these blog-related relationships. My e-mail is listed on the blog so we should all be able to keep in touch easily. I will try to see if I can find a system that works for you to sign up for notifications when I post. And you can also do what I do on many blogs I read, just periodically stop by to see what's happening and leave a comment. I will still be here and I know you want to see how our road construction project finally turns out!

Let me close by saying that the idea of blogging less makes me feel panicky. For 45 years the first thing I've done almost every day is sit down at a computer of some kind and start writing essays, op-eds, editorials, lifestyle stories, columns and blog posts. It is going to be a hard habit to break. 

The first image is a snap of all of us who left the newsroom in 2008. Some of us, me included (in the blue sweater center left), are automatically smiling when faced with a camera. But you can see on some faces what a very bittersweet moment it was. 

The third photo shows Wisconsin native Daniel Mount leading a group of PNW gardeners on a tour of Midwest gardens and prairies. 

The fourth photo was taken the day Daniel Mount's tour group visited our garden. Blogging has resulted in me becoming interested in photography and in preserving the history of our garden, in words and pictures.

The last photo shows the crew putting in the new storm sewer in front of our property. They've now started to prepare the roadbed for paving, but that's still a ways away.

No place like home

Why not stay here forever and ever

enjoying this immortal rhythm,

in which both eye and soul are at rest?

— Virginia Woolf —

 

A Chinese necklace (probably bone) and a dried Magnolia leaf resting in our Thai Spirit House.

IVOM: By the book

Late last fall Typepad did some kind of massive update that screwed up my blog for a week or so. At first I was annoyed and frantic. Once I calmed down I began to think about what I might do with my unexpected free time.

In December of 2020 I made a 20-page magazine via Blurb.com. "A Christmas Miscellany" contained old family photos, pictures of my holiday decor and three family-related Christmas stories I'd originally written as newspaper columns back when I worked at a daily paper. I gave the book as a Christmas present to my sisters, nieces and nephew and a few close friends.

I was so pleased with my Christmas effort that I stared a 48 page 7" x 7" book called "The White Album." It was going to be white flowers and winter garden shots. 

I abandoned it when I got too busy with other things. Now I looked it up again and decided to finish it. Luckily I found a few notes I'd saved that helped me figure out everything I forgotten in the two years since I last made a book. 

I finished that book and did two others between Oct. 25 and Nov. 17. I did these just for me; a way to remember hundreds of moments in my garden for the day when I am no longer living in the midst of it. 

Back cover of the autumn book. This is also 7" x 7" and runs 152 pages. 

IVOM is the third in this 7" x 7" series of garden books. It is 140 pages. I'm not sure how many more I will do at this size, but I expect at least a couple more to showcase spring and summer in the garden. 

Currently I'm working on a small one about our ducks and a 6" x 9" book on "The Sweet History of my Dining Table." They are very satisfying projects that also include learning a new computer program, taking new photos and finding old photos from the blog that need to be resized. Like any art project it's all about the process.

HOW THIS ALL BEGAN:

Mark had two of his photos selected for a competitive exhibit this past fall. We went to the opening and stayed for the excellent lecture by the judge, Aline Smithson. I was particularly struck when she pointed out that my generation is the last one to have had the experience of shooting film, taking the roll to the local drugstore to get it developed, followed by the thill of picking it up and discovering what we had captured — or didn't.

She also emphasized how technology is constantly changing and there is no guarantee that we will be able to access our images when we want them again. Prints — real, physical prints on paper — are the only archival way to retain our treasured images. 

Mark has done almost 30 books of all different sizes, kinds of paper and subjects. I decided it was time to join him; though I consider mine more like scrapbooks than photographic art publications. They are essentially vanity publications but I am happy with them; knowing that I can look at my house and garden when and wherever I want once my images are committed to paper. 

You can look through my books page by page without buying them if you are curious. Here's a link to see the three I've recently done. Click on the preview link and full-screen. You can also find Mark's books on Blurb.com here. Scroll down to see them all.

Holiday trees

We got a holiday card from the group of arborists that take care of our trees. This is the wonderful quote from Wisconsin's legendary environmentalist, Aldo Leopold, that was inside their card.

“Acts of creation are ordinarily reserved for gods

and poets, but humbler folk may circumvent

this restriction if they know how.

To plant a pine, for example, one need be neither

god nor poet; one need only own a good shovel.”

— Pines Above the Snow, A Sand County Almanac

. . . 

Mark bought me the above book. which is also a calendar. Each page follows the year beginning on January 1st with a tree image and text. It will go on the kitchen counter where we will turn over the pages as the year unfurls. 

It is clear to see from these examples of the pages, that this is going to be a wonderful way to start to our days. If you double click on the photos you can read the text.

Remembering Ravilious

During the Second World War, the War Artists Advisory Committee in the U.K hired 300 artists to cover the conflict. On this date in 1942, a plane on a mission off the coast of Iceland crashed into the sea, killing its pilot and 39-year-old passenger, artist Eric Ravilious.  He was the first official war artist to die in active service. I fell in love with Ravilious's work the first time I saw it. He was an illustrator, painter, printmaker and designer of commercial images like the one on this mug. 

This is one of a pair of large cups I have that were produced by Wedgewood to celebrate the coronation of Elizabeth the 2nd, the current Queen. Ravilious originally designed this one for her father's coronation and it was reissued in this colorway for Elizabeth. 

I'm not usually a fan of pink and yellow combinations but I think it works in this design. At this time of year, however, my garden doesn't as offer quite as many choices for pink and yellow blooms as it does in the spring. Still I found more than I expected. 

The provenance of the cup is printed on the bottom. 

The two books pictured are "Bawden, Ravilious and the Artists of Great Bardfield," edited by Gill Saunders and Malcom Yorke and "Long Live Great Bardfield: An Autobiography" by Tirzah Garwood, the wife of Eric Ravlious.

The first is a big, illustrated history of the group of artists who lived and worked Great Bardfield in England and the second is one of many superb books by the great Persephone Press in Bath, England. I am a huge fan of their books and have quite a long shelf full of them. In fact, they are listed as their own category on this blog!

We agree.

I have been lost in the pages of "English Gardens from the Archives of Country Life" by Kathryn Bradley-Hole. It's a big, heavy, expensive and absolutely gorgeous book I ordered from the public library. It's an in-depth look at England's national love affair with gardens, divided into themes like topiary, cottage, rose, and modern gardens to name a few. I've filled the pages with strips of paper marking ideas and inspiration.

The text that really jumped out at me was by Sir Roy Strong talking about making changes in one's garden. Strong's "A Small Garden Designer's Handbook,' was my bible (above) when Mark and I created our first garden in 1990. I own "The Laskett," the book Strong and his late wife, Dr. Julia Trevelyan Oman, did about the garden they made together. And the follow-up book Strong wrote (below) about the changes he made to their garden after her death. 

In this big Country Life volume, Strong was talking about "the literal 'bringing in' of new light, air, and energy" to the garden. He said:

 

"Never cease to be brave, I say, even if you are about to enter your seventieth year. I'm tired of emails from elderly friends always downsizing and disappearing into retirement homes or sheltered housing. My instincts are to do exactly the opposite and go out in a blaze of madness . . . It's exciting that, thirty years on, innovation is still possible. The worst thing that could happen to The Laskett garden is for it to atrophy."

 

It was an unexpected pleasure to discover we are not alone in radically changing our garden after almost 30 years and well into our 70s! It's a message that seems the perfect way to begin the new year. 

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.

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. 

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).

The Bard said it best

As Women's History month is ending, enjoy these words from Shakespeare celebrating women:

ANNE HATHAWAY COTTAGE/SHAKESPEARE BIRTHPLACE TRUST

“From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:

They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;

They are the books, the arts, the academes,

That show, contain and nourish all the world.”

 

― William Shakespeare,

Love's Labour's Lost