English Country Gardens.

                                                                                                                          “How many kinds of sweet flowers grow in an English Country Garden? We’ll tell you now of some that we know. Those we miss, you’ll surely pardon. Daffodils, heart’s ease and phlox, gentian, lupine and tall hollyhocks, meadowsweet and lady smocks, roses, foxgloves, snowdrops, blue forget-me-nots. In an English Country Garden.” – Lyrics by Jimmie Rodgers.

This was one of my favorite children’s songs.

The opening scene in my next release, a Regency, takes place in the heroine’s enclosed garden, so naturally I want to have one on the cover.

As you can tell from my research pictures, there are many flowers growing in an English garden. Too many for a book cover. As beautiful as those flowers are, they can’t compete with the subjects.

You’ll notice that the gardens of great estates were quite formal, laid out with precision and detail. The country garden, however, were less formal. The flowers seem artlessly placed, as if they’d just sprung up where nature put them. Nothing could be further from the truth, though.

I know. My mother had such a garden with meandering paths. Pansies, phlox and lilies competed with each other in front of azalea, bride’s wreath, and roses. Some places were sparse, others crowded. Flowering shrubs and small trees were allowed to spread out. They provided wonderful hiding places for a little girl to play house.

Of all these English garden pictures, which would you say I should choose for my book cover?

Comment on any post through Apr 16 to win a copy of Bonnie Leon’s Return to the Misty Shore.

Rest Stop Blessings

 

“I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content."  Phil 4:11

 

My husband and I have traveled a lot and often stop at highway rest stops for breaks. When we were younger, we were usually on a mission to get to our destination, so we zipped in and out as fast as the lines in the bathrooms would allow. As we’ve grown older, the stops have become longer as we hit the bathrooms and take a few minutes stretching our aging legs. On those rest-stop strolls I’ve discovered something very interesting—mini-gardens dotted throughout the rest stop landscape. These tiny gardens are a visual blessing to road-weary travelers.

I’m not sure why these mini-gardens have become fascinating to me recently. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older and thinking about downsizing my own garden. Or maybe I’m captivated with rest stop gardens because  I’m always on the lookout for fodder for the two garden blogs I have, entitled  Through the Garden Gates and A Writer’s Garden where I talk about my garden, gardens I have visited, and the gardens of other writers I host. After all, you never know what might spark an idea for a post or story. At any rate, I’ve begun to appreciate small like I never have before.

When we think about gardens our minds often go to places like Versailles or Biltmore where a small army of gardeners tend hundreds of acres of landscaping that is perfectly trimmed, perfectly weeded, and always blooming. (Well, at least that’s where my mind goes, because I adore walking though and drooling over those gardens.) Likewise, the pinnacle of authorship represents best-selling books—lots of them. And that perfect home is all-brick (for easy maintenance), located in a fantastic neighborhood, and boasts five-bedrooms, four baths, with every room big enough that you can see empty wall space. If it’s bigger, then it must be better, right?

 

But sometimes, the best things come in smaller packages. A tiny garden in a plot or a recycled trashcan can bring as much joy as an acre of lush landscape you have to tend daily. The sweet success of seeing your name on the cover of your first published book is something that will never fade, even if you never reach best-seller status. And I guarantee you will always remember the first time you cross the threshold of your tiny, starter home.

 

So, the next time you’re tempted to wish for something bigger, or declare what you have already isn’t sufficient, step back and look for the rest stop blessing—that small, but beautiful, nugget that lets you know how much you really have.  You might be surprised at what you see.

 

Today's Birthday Bash giveaway is a winner's choice of one of Caryl McAdoo's books. The winner will be announced in the Weekly Windup post.  Good luck!

 

What's the Newest Surprise in YOUR Garden?

What makes a garden? 

• Just about anything if you love it, tend it and care for it. 
• If it makes you happy (or frustrated and angry, but you can't give it up), then it's a garden. 
• Whether you have a green thumb or black, if you love puttering in the dirt and plant seeds and plants time after time, it's a garden--to you.

1.  We have several flower gardens. Here's just a sampling of some of the flowers.

Here's a picture of a tough and beautiful flower that persists in blooming in my garden 

even when it's cold and showering snow during spring days. 

What a surprise every spring to see this hardy plant shedding it's 

understated beauty for us!

Beautiful Hydrangeas

Sweet Star of Bethlehems--some of my favorites!

We're planning on doing some major overhauls to our flower gardens this year. We want to create/finish one at the end of our driveway. With our major flower garden, I want to weed out some plants that have "taken over" (overgrown) their space. We also want to do another cleanup this year of our garden pond, do some repairs to the deck and add some different interest with new decorative figurines and stones. 

2.  We also harvest as much wild produce as is available on our mini farm. Some examples:

Our "garden" of mushrooms

Of course, they grow wild, but they're a source of food

and we jealously guard them.

Some of our raspberries grown wild on our farm:

3.  Last year we had a small vegetable garden and decided to "build" block raised garden spots.    I loved it, and we plan on using them again. Some of our vegetables included lettuce, tomatoes, carrots and herbs. We'll be expanding this year and see how that goes. 

How To?

If you love experimenting and getting the jump, start your own seedlings!

Here's an easy and simple way to begin. 

Wal-Mart carries similar (or make your own containers) 

Directions included. :)

Depending on where you live, you can begin these as early as February or wait till April.

Seeds can sprout within days to a month or more, depending on the plants.

In the meantime, when the weather warms up, 

begin your spring garden cleanup.

* Clean out flower beds from winter debris, twigs, left over leaves, 

and weeds that were ignored or abandoned at Autumn time

* Flower gardens: repair any damages, such as edging, decorative figurines, stepping stones, etc.

Decide if you'll keep present flower scheme or make changes.

BE CREATIVE!

* Try your hand at water gardens, containers or ground, they're lots of fun!

* Check out the abundance of figurines that add whimsy to a garden

* Do a color-themed garden. I've always wanted an all-blue one or an all-white one,

but haven't gotten to it yet.

* Use borders. I have friends who "collect" rocks for me.

They go in my flower beds!

* Stepping stones are such a fun way create interest

*And don't forget seating arrangements, even in veggie gardens.

You'll want to get plenty of resting time in your newly created garden.

Simple stuff, but perhaps it will get your interest in gardening moving. Even potted plants or very small patio gardens can be fun and interesting. Be brave! Start today. Blessings!

About Carole

Besides being a member and active participant of many writing groups, Carole Brown enjoys mentoring beginning writers. She loves to weave suspense and tough topics into her books, along with a touch of romance and whimsy, and is always on the lookout for outstanding titles and catchy ideas. She and her husband reside in SE Ohio but have ministered and counseled nationally and internationally. Together, they enjoy their grandsons, traveling, gardening, good food, the simple life, and did she mention their grandsons? 

Personal blog: http://sunnebnkwrtr.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CaroleBrown.author
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/browncarole212
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/sunnywrtr/boards/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/5237997-carole-brown
Google+:    https://plus.google.com/u/0/113068871986311965415/posts

Check out her books here

http://www.amazon.com/Carole-Brown/e/B00EZV4RFY/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1427898838&sr=8-1

THIS WEEK'S GIVEAWAY IS:

• PRUDENCE PURSUED    An EBOOK BY SHIRLEY RAYE REDMOND. 
• It RUNS THROUGH APRIL 10TH. 
• COMMENT ON ANY POST BETWEEN NOW AND THEN TO ENTER, AND REMEMBER, 
• THE MORE COMMENTS YOU MAKE, THE MORE ENTRIES YOU EARN!

    Winners will be announced in the Weekly Wind-up on April 11th.

 

CHECK OUT OUR PRIZES GALORE PAGE TO SEE ALL OUR GIVEAWAYS.

Reclaiming Inspiration and Joy

Columbines from Catherine Castle's garden ©

I recently started a new gardening blog thread on my website called A Writer’s Garden—Through the Garden Gates with…  The purpose of this blog series is to connect writer/gardeners with new readers, who happen to like gardening as well as reading. There are about 13 of us who have committed to write posts, and as gardening season opens I must admit that I’m excited to see what everyone brings to the blog.

 

 

I’ve been a gardener for most of my life and a lover of gardens for as long as I could say, “Pretty flowers.” I love flowers. I can spend hours perusing a seed catalogue, lost in dreams of putting most everything between the pages in my garden. I love gardens of any size. A well-designed flowerpot will make me stop and take a photograph. I even love weeding—at least I like the results of a clean, newly weeded flower bed.

 

But love isn’t a word that I have used a lot recently when referencing my garden. I still think of myself as a gardener, but, for the past couple of years, I’d rather view someone else’s neatly weeded flowerbeds than work in mine. Bad knees, side effects from meds that make me weak, fighting hornets, wasps, and getting into a chigger patch last year, have created lots of places in my garden that have gone unattended, unweeded, and unmulched.  Had it not been for the efforts of my hubby, who worked beside me last year, nothing would have been done in the garden. Quite frankly, keeping up with the chores had become a job. Most of the season, I was wishing for winter so I could stop gardening.

 

Now, for the first time in several years instead of seeing my garden as a stretch of endless chores I’m viewing it like I used to. Renewed inspiration, thanks to the gardening blog, has me anticipating yanking out those weeds, which I will have to do without my husband’s forced labor this year. I’ve got him working on something else. Instead of dreading the chores, I’m planning which section to attack next, deciding what I want to put in my vegetable bed, which perennials I’m dividing, and how I’m reworking the beds. I’m rethinking my gardening strategy, and my garden, to better fit the needs of my aging knees. I’m also looking for gardening tidbits to write about on the blog. I’ve even started my gardening log again, which had fallen by the wayside when my husband retired a few years ago.

 

 It’s funny how we humans forget so easily. We let the here and now, the tyranny of the urgent, our lazy natures, our human frailties, and every other obstacle that comes our way stop us from enjoying life to the fullest.  Instead of finding inspiration around us, sometimes all we see are problems, chores, and endless frustration.  

 

This spring as I go into gardening season, I’m going to claim Revelations 21:7 as my garden mantra —“He that overcometh shall inherit all things.” I will conquer negativity. I will reclaim the pleasure I lost in doing garden chores. I will sit on the deck after a job well done, and revel in my backyard patch of Eden. I will reclaim inspiration and joy from nature, which God has gifted us.

 

The little cares that fretted me,

I lost them yesterday,

Among the fields above the sea,

Among the winds at play, . . .

Among the hushing of the corn,

Where drowsy poppies nod,

Where ill thoughts die and good are born,

Out in the fields of God.

—Anonymous: Out in the Fields

 

What about you? Is there inspiration and joy in your life that you need to reclaim? “The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul.” (Proverbs 13:19) Don’t wait to rediscover what you’ve lost. Find a way to take it back today.

 

 

Catherine Castle is not only an award-winning author, she is an award-winning gardener. You can see her gardens and read about her book, The Nun and the Narc, at her website.

 

Don’t forget to leave a comment to get your name in this week’s drawing for James R. Callhan's book Cleansed by Fire.    Be sure to check the Weekly Windup for the winners.

Blooming Blessings

This is a little longer than most posts. I wrote a short story about the history of a plant in our yard that I didn't plant. I hope you enjoy it. Lora

May 1878, Five miles west of Smithville, Missouri

Sarah Anderson dribbled water onto the cloth surrounding a wilting vine. She could kick herself for letting it dry out. If Mama’s precious wisteria died, Sarah would bear the loss for the rest of her life. There’d be no going back to Virginia to get another cutting.

“Sarah?” Her husband, Will, held the hand of their toddling son. “You about finished? Little Ralph needs a diaper change, and we need to get this wagon unloaded.”

Sarah bobbed her head. “I hope it makes it. I’ve done my best to nurse it along.”

“I don’t know anybody better with plants than you are. You’re gonna be handy to have here on the farm.” He gave her the dimpled grin that had won her heart three years ago. “I know the train would’ve been faster, but the freight prices would’ve cleaned us out.”

“You don’t have to explain. I remember our reasons. It hasn’t been as bad a trip as some I’ve heard. The ferry over the Mississippi—that was pretty hair-raising, but the rest has been uneventful. We’ve been very blessed.”

#

May 1923

A welcomed rain shower splashed onto the purple-flowered vine climbing the fence. Looking out the farmhouse’s front window, Wilma Anderson whispered a prayer of gratitude. The dry spring had her new husband, Albert, fretting somethin’ awful. No rain meant no crops and no repairs to the roof. Wilma smiled as his brawny hands traced her waist and pulled her into a solid embrace.

“You’re as grateful for the rain watering that worthless wisteria vine as you are for it saving the corn crop.” His warm breath tickled her neck. “Wisteria don’t put food on the table, you know.”

“I know, but it puts joy in my soul. Your dad would grieve if his mama’s plant died.”

“Yeah, he would. I’d be kinda sorry myself.”

Wilma stroked Albert’s stubbly cheek. He acted tough in front of folks, but deep down, he was quite a softie. She was so very blessed.

#

May 1992

“Bill, could you cut out this rotten vine on the fence-row?” Lora Young brushed the hair from her eyes and shoved the garden trowel back into the tool bag. “It’s wrapping itself around my lilies, and I’m afraid it’s going to kill them. I’d do it myself, but there’s poison ivy in there too.”

“Let me grab the brush cutter.” He opened the shed and got to work.

Thirty minutes later, the once robust vine had been trimmed back to a few straggly bits clinging to the wire fence.

Not many husbands would have so readily done that job. Bill was first among her many blessings..

#

May 1993

Lora looked out the passenger seat window as Bill slowed to turn in the driveway. She frowned. “What are those flowers on the fence-row?”

Bill leaned forward. “Don’t know. Let’s take a look.”

A few minutes later, after getting her little girl out of the booster seat, Lora followed Bill and their two boys across the lawn. As she walked, a heavenly fragrance filled her nostrils. Deep green leaves covered twenty feet of the fence. Clusters of purple florets hung like grapes and dotted the vine

“This is the vine you trimmed last year.” Lora set down her wriggling daughter and fingered the dangling flowers. “Cutting it back must have encouraged it to bloom, and now we get to enjoy the blessing it brings.”

Could it be that God’s pruning will help us bloom?

Don't forget to post a comment to be entered into this week's giveaway!

Lora Young

Garden Memories

Right when you think winter will never end, God presses the reset button and a sprig of green pokes through barren earth. In perfect timing, spring announces the season of growth and new beginnings. The players seem to burst out on the stage overnight. In the south, they’re already everywhere.

Spring is a time of preparation and planning, anticipation and looking forward, but I always turn nostalgic this time of year. The reason is because my mother was a great gardener. I don’t know why her skill didn’t rub off me. Or why plants still cringe when they see me coming.

Mama certainly taught me everything to make a garden grow. We had a large garden away from the house, large in that it ran an acre or so, planted mostly in corn and peas, beans, okra, tomatoes, all those vegetables that would be frozen or canned. I was even allowed a couple of rows for my popcorn. Did you know it gets hot enough in South Georgia to pop corn on the stalk? I couldn’t find a picture of it, but take my word for it—it does.

The garden patch near the house was reserved for all the salad vegetables; lettuce, cabbage, carrots, radishes, beets, and scallions. I wasn’t too fond of eating those vegetables, so it’s no surprise I balked at working in the garden, especially on Saturday mornings when Bugs Bunny was on.

It wasn't bad enough I missed cartoons, but my mother seemed to make the whole thing harder than it should have been. She choose this spot where Bermuda grass loved to grow, and insisted we dig it up with a hoe, shake it until the dirt and worms fell out, and haul it off to be burned. Mama had a hate thing going with this Bermuda grass.

But she knew what she was doing. Her garden patch had no need for fertilizers or manure. We didn’t have to worry about additives. Yet that was the richest, blackest dirt on the face of the earth, and well aerated by earthworms too. The worms were usually deposited into a tin can for fish bait.

Mama couldn’t stand a blade of grass anywhere in her yard, and she kept the bare paths swept with brooms made of dog fennel. Every other square inch of the yard was filled with flowers, mainly annuals she sowed from seeds. You can’t get those seeds anymore except as heirloom. They’ve been tampered with in attempts to improve them—or keep people from growing their own—until they don’t grow from seed anymore. Pansies, petunias, daises, asters, marigolds, carnations, sweet-william. I can’t remember all the different ones.

Besides all the flowers and dirt paths, flowering trees of dogwood, red-bud, and holly were gathered from the woods and strategically placed around the yard. I Wish I could show you a picture of my mother’s front yard, but all that remains is in my mind.

The first stirrings of spring remind me of that garden. I wish my yards contained such beauty, or that I could grow such vegetables. But I know the hard work that went into them. I never developed a talent for gardening, and by the time I was in fifth-grade, my mother dismissed me from garden chores. Maybe because she was afraid I’d kill more plants than I helped, but I think it was really because she saw the value in studies, reading, and writing. She recognized that the seeds planted in my brain would yield more than those I managed to plant in the ground.

Is anyone out there an avid gardener like my mother? Do you have a garden that rivals yesteryear’s?