Wednesday, September 18, 2013
On the One Year Anniversary
Today is the one year anniversary of my mother's death. After she passed I received many cards, email condolences, flowers and dish gardens from family, friends and co-workers. And one very unexpected gift, a small potted Rose of Sharon to plant in my garden in my mother's memory. In the days after the funeral the plant sat in its pot on my deck, showing off its beautiful purple flowers. I named it Betty in honor of my mom. But as days passed into weeks and the flowers died I began to wonder where in the world I was going to plant it. November was approaching, the weather turned cold and the plant needed a home, a place to put its roots down. Literally. Now my house is 23 years old; we had it built for us on a windy hill (hence the name of my studio) where there is absolutely no topsoil to speak of. For the first few years we had very little grass, no shrubs that would last through the cold windy winter. We were grateful for anything that was green and would grow. Over the years I have learned the hard way what will grow and what will not thrive in that poor soil. And when something did grow...I just let it go because at least it was green! So, 23 years later we have a yard full of some really nice plants and some things that we just let grow because at least they are green! The challenge was finding an empty space in our very overcrowded (and green!) yard. I finally found a place for Betty, next to a very aggressive Pussy Willow which we have been hacking away at for several years. I planted Betty in mid-November and hoped for the best. After the winter and spring passed, and summer rolled around we finally saw some life in Betty. (Rose of Sharons never really look too good till the end of July or early August). Betty bloomed in August with beautiful pinkish purple flowers. I hacked away at the pussy willow to give Betty some more light and space to grow. I'm happy to report that on the one year anniversary Betty looks wonderful and has held her own against that aggressive pussy willow. Well, my mom never did like cats anyway.