There is no doubt that my mother influenced much of what I do today but no where is it more profound than in my love of cottage gardening and possibly in my love of cottages.
Here is my niece, Christine, and my mother, Alzira, outside the little Hollywood Court cottage on Johnston Street where my mother lived after my father passed away.
I am guessing this photo was taken in 1993.
This is the street side of the garden.
This is what the Plum Tree Court vacation rentals look like today.
The first cottage on the left is where my mother lived.
|For this photo only: photo credit Wayman Barnes|
This is the interior garden, business side, where vegetables
were grown to supplement my mother's Social Security budget.
Don't even get me started on that topic.
Those are fava beans on the left it's probably April or May since they are blooming.
See the hen and chick succulents along the sidewalk? I have some of the baby
chicks from those plants in my front garden. My mother always had flat leaf parsley
and mint in pots in her garden. Yesterday, as I watered my own potted mint the
scent took me right to childhood and the sopas of the holy ghost festival.
My mother's little garden also housed roses, kale, and a variety of lettuce.
Everything tastes better fresh but lettuce has so much more flavor and depth
if grown in your own garden. I can't even describe the deliciousness
of a plain lettuce salad with a light vinaigrette.
Yep, it's April see the white and red sweet peas. There are carnations,
cosmos, and potato vines but those would bloom later.
The calla lilies defined the end of my mother's garden.
That's the back door to the cottage leading to the kitchen where
all invited family and friends entered.
I remember stepping into the middle of the street to get these photos.
If I stop to close my eyes I can go back to this very moment in time. To the
smell of my mother's garden with onions growing next to red roses.
The events and milestones celebrated in this little cottage are still with
me. Isn't it funny how we really do travel through time?
It is the significance of our memories that keeps our loved ones with us
During the last few months of my mother's life I would sit with her
for hours just holding her hand because I wanted to remember what
it felt like. Hours of quiet communication.