When I was a kid, about 9 or 10, My mother, sisters, grandma and I used to go into the cow pasture and pick berries, wild raspberries, and blue berries in season. There was a small bog swampy area in one corner of our pasture that had a few wild iris growing in it. My grandmother was a flower lover, and she would always point out wild flowers and tell me what they were as we picked berries near one another. She was most fond of the wild iris, and she also had some varieties of iris in her flower gardens. She had flowers growing all around her house, and along the perimeters of her property in town. I used to love going there and helping her weed the garden. I can still hear her say, "Now don't step on any plants", as we were working among them. She would take the time to tell me what each one was, and we would admire them together. In the summer, she always had fresh bouquets
of flowers in her house. She even grew rows of batchler buttons, zenias, and Glads in her vegetable garden. I can remember when she got a catalog with a pink iris for sale in it. She had to save for a while to be able to buy it, we were a poor faminly. When she got it, she put it in a special place. I can still see the excitment she shared as she showed off the new blooms. I have no idea what variety it was, or what year that was anymore. I get misty eyed typing this thinking of these wonderful memories. I guess I sometimes feel like she's right there beside me when I'm digging in the dirt, and weeding the gardens. Telling me, Now don't step on any plants! She lived to be 93, and still cared for her smaller flower garden. Having irises brings me closer to her I guess.
I also wonder who we might inspire to be gardeners?
I can't wait to hear your stories!
