Growing up green

Camera is MIA.  So until I borrow another, blogs will be a bit out of sync.  I'll catch up with the continuation of last Friday's work once I have a way to take progress pictures.

I've been thinking a lot about Gardens recently, particularly now that ours is making its way to Full Production Mode.  Radishes/check.  Lettuces of all varieties/yep.  Arugula/there, too.  Mustard Greens/love 'em.  Edible Flowers for salads/such a happy addition.  Swiss chard, a rainbow of colors/sautéed with garlic, simply the best.  Snap/sugar peas/excellent.  Once introduced, the dogs love them, too/how to defend against their foraging?  We have plenty to share. Could life be better?  I don't think so.

This was my very first garden.  Park Forest, Illinois.  Townhouses under construction.  Obviously not much of an inspiration on the green side of life.  I'm sure it got better as life progressed but I have no recollection of anything flowering in this, my first, home.

Fortunately, each summer we all piled into our station wagon and camped our way across the country to Bedford, NY, where my parents had grown up and where, thankfully, my Aunt Lil and Uncle Mont still lived.  

They were caretakers on one of the large estates/just blocks away from where Martha now lives.  My Uncle Mont worked in the garden, fields and forest.  My Aunt Lil spent time in "the Big House" arranging flowers and tidying up things.  And quite possibly making meals since she was quite a terrific cook.

Their/My Childhood Garden/had fields of daffodils planted under flowering fruit trees.  

Here is a picture of the Whitman's house, aka "the Big House." It may bear a certain resemblance to another home you know.

There were wonderful walled rose gardens with lovely fountains.

 

  

  

Cutting gardens for the main house and a greenhouse filled with exotic plants and flowers I hadn't see in Illinois.  Both my aunt and uncle were seed savers so much of what was sewn in the garden was germinated by the two.  As I look at these photos today, I am awestruck by the sheer size and scope of the work. Unbelievable, really. 

 

My uncle always warned against wandering too far from home because "there were Rackabeebobs in those hills."  I simply could not imagine how horrible a Rackabeebob experience would be/I stayed clear of the woods.

 

     

In addition to tending all the gardens, mowing meadows, taking care of miscellaneous animals and much, much more yet to be documented, Uncle Mont was also the family chauffer. 

Going to stay with Lil and Mont in their tiny gardener's cottage was nothing short of magical.  Snuggled in a window-seat-sized bed with pine scented pillows from Maine, listening to the night/country sounds. I could hardly wait for morning to arrive so that we could start our day.  A day that predictably ended with The Best fresh-from-the-garden fruits and vegetables, much music, games we could all play, dancing and lots of laughter.  Always, much laughter. 

Lillian and Mont Collins never had children of their own.  I was always pretty sure that I belonged with them.  So it was with great joy that, each summer for many, many years, I was able to go home to Bedford.

They, more than anyone else, helped me define what I wanted for my own children and for our grandchildren.

So here's to you, darling Aunt Lil and Uncle Mont! Your lives continue to impact others in ways even you, amazing duo that you were, couldn't begin to imagine.