Gardens, public and private

This is the story of a garden - a public garden tended, planted, designed, weeded entirely by volunteers in my community - the community of Silver Springs in northwest Calgary.  And this is the meditation Labryinth - designed after the famous Chartre Labryinth, planted and dedicated last summer with creeping Thyme.  It is putting on quite a show at the moment

You can read more about the history of the garden  here www.BotanicalGardensOfSilverSprings.ca
Right now, because spring has been so late arriving in Calgary, annual planting is in full swing all through the gardens.  It is a treat to walk the length from the Birthplace Forest and Labryinth up to the Shakespeare Garden which is where much of the work is concentrating this season, building new paths.   Public gardens, by their very nature are structured, unlike private gardens, where controlled chaos is welcome some of the time.

Every spring we take pictures of the lovely sour cherry tree in our front garden and every year it is spectacular.  We want to hold the look longer, but mother nature usually has other ideas - like wind and rain that play havoc with the blossoms turning them into pink snow on the lawn.  So we record the temporary beauty for posterity.  The blossoms signal the coming of fruit - non edible but fruit non the less.  Even the birds don't like these cherries - too sour I guess.  They're a pretty red colour when they come though, and hang on the tree all winter.

Today the marauding squirrel dug up and ate some of the tulip bulbs in the side garden by the front door,  leaving a mess all over the sidewalk.  It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't torn up tulip leaves too and then just left them laying there.  He is a vandal - a garden vandal.  I sincerely hope the tulip bulbs give him a tummy ache.

Fun Socks!

I loved working on these - I used Lang Jawoll stripes which I think is one of my favourite sock yarns - one of the best things about this yarn is the lovely little surprise spool shoved in the middle of the ball in the same colour way to use to reinforce the toes and heels if you are so inclined.  I was inclined to use it during the heel construction just to make things a tad more sturdy.

It occurs to me that my strongest connection to the women in my family comes through the work of their hands and their love for working with their hands.  I'm fortunate  that love passed on to me.

My earliest memory of my grandmother Eva was  her basket of fine crochet thread and the teeny tiny hook for the lace table cloth under construction.   My grandmother Emma was a practical knitter and stitcher - at least until her hands became so arthritic she could no longer hold the pins.  My aunts on both side of my family were inveterate sewers, knitters, crocheters,  artisans always willing to try something new.  Aunt Lil took up china painting after she had crochet layettes for all the new babies coming along. Aunt Helen made doll clothes for all her granddaughter's prize dolls when she wasn't sewing dresses for the girls.   My mother used knitting, needlepoint and crochet as her chief artistic expression, when she wasn't painting walls and re-arranging the furniture.  I think she would have made a fine interior designer had she had the opportunity.
I was musing about all of this, and the history of the cloth that  passed along to me - stacks of doilies, table clothes, even tea towels all lovingly embroidered,  resting in my linen closet.  And then there are the pot holders, hot pads, napkin rings crochet in flower motifs, and coasters. 
 This is art - women's art -  the art of decoration, but practical too.  The Antimacassars crochet by my grandmother to decorate the arm chairs also kept the backs and arms of the chair clean and free of hair oils. 
The hot pads and coasters kept the wood furniture free of marks and glass rings.  The mittens and toques kept us all warm.
These things made the house into a warm home.
 So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart for the love of handmade things and for teaching me the skills to make them.   The things we make may have changed with the times, but the craft - the art of creating -  remains and that is after all the main thing isn't it?