The Secret is Out

My Garden Club asks a question of its members each month. Once in a while the questions stir up old memories. This month's question is one of those.

I post my answer here. I don't think I've ever shared it with anyone before so, Melena, this one is for you.

The question:

“ If your garden could magically replicate any garden in the world, what would it look like? Describe it!”

The answer:

I have been to many beautiful gardens around the world but the one I would replicate is a garden of my childhood.

It was back in the woods near the town square of Landstuhl, Germany. I don't know who originally planted the gardens as the house no longer stood- only the remnants of what once was.

My friend and I found it quite by accident one day as we had taken little metal pails to pick blueberries. Somehow we got off the normal paths and came upon a clearing in the woods. Old grape vines had taken over their arbors and spilled on to nearby trees. They helped create a ceiling of extreme beauty. The remains of an old stone walk gave flooring to our new found secret garden and large boulders covered in cushioned moss seemed to say, "Come, sit. Stay awhile." I went back often- sometimes with my friend, sometimes by myself. I watched as the garden yielded up its treasures as each season unfolded. There were coral bells, blue delphinium, meadowrue and wild geraniums. My favorite were little violet plants theat seemed to tilt their heads at my approach. I would pick a few and take them home as if keeping them close would somehow keep me safe. One day I found the opening to a small cave. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I gradually saw slate tablets [for lack of a better word] that had strange writing on them. Some seemed to be whole; others broken. There were also broken pieces of pottery and china. I tried to imagine who had lived there and what the items looked like when in use.

My mind often wanders back to that secret garden of mine. I wonder if it is still there or if in the name of progress it has given way to concrete or blacktop but I really don't want to know.

I am content to keep it safely tucked away in my memories.

The Circle of Sisterhood

Life is like a huge revolving door where we enter and take our turn and then exit again so that the next person can enter. So it is with family.

Two of my great great grandmothers were members of Relief Society and so were their daughters and their daughters and then their daughters. Journals reflect their service and concern for others.

I am now taking my turn in this great worldwide sisterhood and watching my daughter and daughters- in- law serve as well. It truly is something extraordinary to behold.

I have always loved the message of Sister Lucy Mack Smith, who, frail and failing with age, rose to speak to her sisters in an early Relief Society meeting in Nauvoo. She said, "We must cherish one another, watch over one another, comfort one another and gain instruction that we may all sit down in heaven together."

As we celebrate this 166th birthday of Relief Society I marvel at all that has transpired in the history of my family's women and wonder at the adventures and friendships that my grand daughters will experience. I do not worry for them because I know that no matter what happens they will be blessed as there will be others there to help watch out for them and lift them when they stumble.

And so the circle continues... generation after generation. And so on and so forth...

I Hear Spring

I put suet out for the birds in winter. This morning there must have been eight or nine Downey Woodpeckers hanging on the suet cage chirping away... They seem to be happy to see the sun!

And the Snow Keeps Falling...

Terry flew back from Nashville during the wee hours of the morning. He made it through the door but his car remains stuck in the driveway...

The snow keeps falling and is forecast to snow until sometime this afternoon. If this keeps up we may be able to take a picture like this one.


[This picture was taken last year in Oswego, NY. The snow was so high that people could not see out of their windows. Some places had 13 feet of snow on the ground.]

So much for global warming, Al Gore!

I shall venture out on my snowshoes camera in hand...

Oh, to be Home in Georgia...

If I close my eyes I can almost feel the bermuda grass under my feet and smell the gardenias in the backyard. This time of year the pansies are nodding their little heads in the wind and spring is in the air. Soon, the dogwoods and azaleas will be in bloom and all will be right with the world....

Snow cushions-

Somewhere under the cushions of snow there is a bench. In better days it serves as a retreat from the world. I can sit under the trees and escape the telephone and myriad of things that I could be doing in the house. Today it is a grim reminder that spring is no where in site in Upstate New York.
{Logan was going to complain that the temperature in Tampa is a cold 60 degrees today. When he heard how much snow we'd gotten he thought better of it. Such a smart man!}

Outside the window...

We have always had a lot of wildlife in our yard. Wild turkeys, foxes, coyotes and coy dogs have been spotted at times. Neighbors tell of bears and even a couple moose. The deer have been frequent visitors but this month a young deer has decided that our front bushes are quite tasty. This morning she brought a friend.

Neither deer seemed to care that I was no more than a foot from their faces as I snapped their pictures through the window. They must be really hungry to not be spooked.

Skene Manor - Whitehall, New York

We took a trip to Vermont this past week-end. Before entering Vermont we spotted a stone house on the hill overlooking Whitehall, NY. Following the Mountain Road leading up the hill we found the entrance to what is now called Skene Manor. An elderly gentlemen came over and invited us in to have a look around.

We learned that it was built by New York State Supreme Court Judge Joseph Potter who contracted with the architectural firm of Isaac H. Hobbs & Sons of Philadelphia to design a permanent home for him. Contracting Designer Almon Chandler Hopson built the home with the finest materials and stone quarried from the site. The reported cost of construction was $25,000, which was a very expensive structure by 1874 standards. Judge Potter called his home "Mountain Terrace". Judge Potter died in 1902, and his widow Catherine sold Mountain Terrace to Edgar Lowenstein in 1906. Renamed "Lowen’s Castle", gas fixtures were installed and the carriage house built. It changed hands several times over the years but ended up vacant for several years as well. During this time there was water damage and kids vandalized it. Being the last of five such "castle" houses built in Whitehall a group of concerned citizens have raised money to buy and restore the home. They are in the 12th year of restoration but lack of funds and resources have made the process extremely slow.

October brings apples; lot and lots of apples!

The road is done- would be a great drag racing spot.
The mountains are multi colored now and the deer are on the run. The tourists are here driving around to see the leaves, go on hayrides, buy a pumpkin or a bushel of apples. Soon, the snow will fall so for now I will enjoy the journey.

August is leaving us...

Upstate New York will soon be bathed in the warm colors of autumn. Right now a few trees are trying to get a jump start but I don't understand the rush.