Saturday, August 20, 2011

Green Thumb

I will never have my mother's green thumb, but when I have some success, I always remember her.

Although the farm house was falling apart around her, she had beautiful flowers surrounding it.

At the end of the rickety open porch, under which so many batches of kittens were born, she would string up the binder twine and attach it to nails on the porch's roof edge.  She would then take the trailing vines of morning glories laying on the ground and wind them around the twine till they had a nice grip, and in a few weeks, the end of that broken down porch was bursting in lovely blue cups of flowers.

The side of the house and the woodshed would have their patches of colors too.


Geraniums were a specialty of moms.  Old gnarly wood stems, stored in the cellar in winter, would burst forth flowers in summer. She would pick up a few others to add from the local greenhouse in town.  I still can smell that wonderful humid, greenish scent of walking into that large greenhouse.

Her glory though, was the large flower garden at the side of the house.  We would always take special occasion photos there  She would plant tulips and daffodils and glads in spring, surrounded by, when they grew to full stature in summer, 3 foot tall peony bushes of all colors.




Flowers blossom even in the midst of decay.


                                                 copyright Stepka 2011