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The Stylish Gardener

The Blackberry Patch

7/26/2014

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Bug spray?  Check.
Long sleeved shirt?  Check.
Machete?  Check.

And off I went.  No, I wasn't reenacting the jungle chase scene from Romancing the Stone.  But I was headed into some wild territory--the wild blackberry patch at the edge of the field.  What better way to spend a sultry summer evening when the husband's away?  Don't answer that...
but be prepared for some selfies.
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Here's me at the start of the patch, which is really just a huge mass of overgrown brambles with berry-loaded canes dotted throughout.  The best berries are always found at the center of the patch, and that's where the machete comes in...


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...because this is what happens if I try to push my way through the thorny briars without hacking out a path.  Believe me, it's impossible to get through a wild blackberry patch without getting tangled up in the briars.  Sometimes I wonder if they don't purposely reach out and grab me...


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Just to get back at me for all the nibbles I take along the way.  But they're just so sweet and tasty, nobody could resist them.


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Okay, Esther can.  She came along with me on the walk to the patch, but she was absolutely not one bit interested in going in it.  Look how happy she is just sitting in the field...


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...and look how sweaty I am deep inside the jungle.  It's so dense and thick in there, there's not a bit of air circulating.  And when it's mid-July and 97 degrees in the shade, I sweat.  So do you.


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You won't believe what I found when I finally hacked my way out of the patch--a decades old wrecked cargo plane with a skeleton in the pilot's seat!  Wait, my mistake.  It's just my old barn.  But I still felt like Joan Wilder--dripping wet, slinging my machete through the tangled vegetation, suddenly uncovering a long forgotten relic.  But she had Micheal Douglas with her...


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And I had somebody even better.  Even if he was due for a bath!


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Mid-Summer Splendor

7/23/2014

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Summer's in full swing here on the homestead--the flowers are blooming, the garden is growing, and the harvest will be here before I know it.  So before I get buried in buckets of beans, tons of tomatoes, and pounds of potatoes, I wanted to put together a few snapshots and snippets to spotlight some of the areas you may not have seen yet.  We've been working hard around here, and things are lookin' pretty good, if I do say so myself!   So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the slideshow! 
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This is the view that greets me every morning as I step out my backdoor, and it never fails to perk me up.  Gardens are ever-changing and each day brings something new.  The vegetable garden is fast becoming a jungle due to the excess rain, but my new pallet fence is doing a great job keeping it contained.  I love the white-washed boards against all the green foliage, and the double daylilies bordering the path that runs alongside it are spectacular.
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The plantings around the greenhouse entrance are really taking shape.  I'm really proud of the Limelight Hydrangea in the foreground (left); it's the only hydrangea I've ever persuaded to live in my garden.  It bloomed just after this photo was taken, and the creamy-white, lime-green blooms are gorgeous!
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Here's the view of the pond from beside the greenhouse.   A few years ago we carved a picnic spot out of the wilderness down there and parked our little camper on the banks beneath the hickory tree.  This year we built a swim platform, and I brought down some yard sale lounge chairs and a beach umbrella.  Even though it's nothing fancy, we're really enjoying the area, and lately it's been our own private get-away.  That's not too far away.  But it feels like we're worlds away when we're there, and my-oh-my, it sure is great. 
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And lastly, here's a shot of my privet wall (center) that I'm so happy with.  It's a Golden Vicary Privet hedge, to be exact, and it's filling out nicely even though it's only in its second growing season.  It's been so energetic, we even had to shear it this year.  The hedge runs parallel to the garden fence, and it acts as a privacy wall for me when I'm working in the garden.  It also adds that bit of formality and structure that my free-spirited cottage garden was begging for.  And since I got the shrubs for 10 cents apiece, I was more than happy to indulge!
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Lazy Summer Days

7/11/2014

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When I was a child my summers were spent splashing through the creek with my siblings. It flowed through the valley just below our house, and it was a wonderful  playground.  Over a hundred years ago, Native Americans had  built their encampments on the banks, and so the local settlers gave it the name Indian Creek. I remember hearing the stories my great grandmother told about those days.  She could remember as a child seeing the squaws sitting cross-legged on the banks, braids hanging down their backs as they wove baskets from the reeds that grew along the stream.  The children played by the waters edge while the men sat higher up the hill in the village, chiseling arrowheads.  The village and it's people were long gone by the time I started playing in the flowing waters, but I spent many hours exploring the banks, searching for Indian treasure, and imagining what that life must have been like.  It was an idyllic way to spend the summer, and now that I am a mother, I appreciate it even more.  My son William is just about the age I was in those summer memories of mine, and I want him to experience summers like I did.  We have a pond that sits below our house, just like the creek did at my childhood home.  In the summer we like to go there when we feel the need to escape the real world.  It occurred to me the other day that the pond has become for Will what the creek was for me--a summer playground.  The abundant rainfall we've had has turned our little pond into a thriving ecosystem, complete with lush cattails, fat bullfrogs, birds nesting in the grass, and cool, clean water.  Cleo the Egyptian goose has made it her home, and she spends her days gracefully gliding through the reeds.  She follows right along with Will as he splashes around, explores the banks, and searches for treasure in the reeds.  And when things quieten down, we sit on the banks and look across the field toward the holler where my great grandmother was raised.  And as I tell him the stories that have been passed down in our family for generations, we lean back, close our eyes and let our imaginations run wild...

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