Summer Ayem

Summer Ayem

Or is it Amen?  It’s 9ayem – the fresh morning breeze is gently flapping our spanking new, mega sized, American flag on its 35 foot pole, five feet to the right of the deck, as I sit facing our rural road.  Having what I call “boney soil” I lack the strength and energy to “put in” an in-the-ground garden so I’ve done the next-best thing.  Taking a lesson from my dear friend, Shirley, who left us for a more adventurous heavenly home, I’ve created a rather public “secret garden” on my deck.

While chasing parts for a project, I discovered happy red and white petunias on sale at our local home improvement store – a buck a pop, for five inch pots!  I scooped up as many of those babies as I could put into a cart with visions of a red and white paradise to surround me on my summer morning sit-ins on deck.    I already started my deck garden by digging out buried perennials that got lost in the backyard hostas.  I stuck them into pots along with my granddaughter’s long forgotten pinwheels, and  added herbs and trailing vines that I brought home from my girlfriend, Diane’s, house.  Although her Kentucky weather is kinder to them than mine seems to be, we’re hanging in to see if they revive.

I’ve arranged a dozen petunia plants in two long planters to complement the nicely aged (meaning rusted, which I was told that was how it was to be displayed - worked for me!) rolling cart I bought several years ago at an antique/flea market in Franklin, TN, where my daughter and her family live (yes, that means grandchildren are too far away – another story).  The cart sits to my right, under Shirley's flowered straw hat which is under the porch light.  Said cart is resplendent in delicious, smile-faced purple pansies, yellow/gold daisies, a hanging basket of snapdragons, my favorite lavender, and a fledgling spider plant in a hand striped, red, white, and blue pot, quite possibly created by one of my children many, many years ago (yes, I save all kinds of treasures – yet another story).  I've hung an oriental bell chime on the handle, and my blue deck chairs pick up the blues in the flowers of the hat.  Perfect!

To my left on the other side of the French doors, I resurrected an old wooden deck chair and a heavy – wire, small ice cream seat. I added a Shasta daisy ($4 from $13 – another get 'er now special)  and a white metal plant stand holding a Mother’s Day azalea in a large green pot. On the lower shelf, I placed a purple and green vine-y thing, also in a green pot, that my girlfriend Kathy shared from her plantings and gave me for Christmas.  These indoor plants seem to smile at me every day when I sit out here to visit with them, grateful, as I am, for the warming summer sun, gentle breezes, and birdsong.

I love receiving shared plants from others.  Every time I look at them, I imagine their garden or deck, and I enjoy the memories of those individuals.  When my phlox and lilies of the valley go into full glory, I fondly imagine my straw-hatted mom, in her ubiquitous “pedal-pusher” pants lovingly tending the grandparents of those plants fifty years ago in my childhood garden.  Now, how’s that for warm, fuzzy memories?  My daughter and I each bought a Gary Cooper rose in Franklin and had a rose face-off for one year (mine produced wildly : ).  Little did I know that was its swan song – it must have decided that WNY winters were no climate for California raised, imported-to-TN roses.   Since I think of my roses as beautiful ladies, I guess she was just a fragile southern belle who couldn’t take the frigid wintry stuff that gets dished out up north.  Ahhh, guess I'll move the lovely potted knockout rose I received from my son and his girlfriend for Mother's Day to the deck garden to have my daily rose fix.

But, alas, this little bit of paradise is not perfect.  The sun keeps hiding behind grey clouds, and when it does, it’s a signal for the gnats to emerge from their hiding places.  They have discovered that they can burrow into my long red hair and, much to my dismay, have begun feasting on my scalp and neck as well as dive bombing the inside of my glasses, making the further creation of this missive a bit too challenging for me.

So, for today, I bid you adieu, ta ta, pip pip, cheerio, and amen!