A Pansy Garden

There was a time many years ago that I would spend endless hours at my Grams house. Mostly in the summer when I would go and spend weeks with her. I recall pulling weeds and picking dill. Smelling flowers and climbing her "green bean" tree in the back. Going up to the attic and going through her many trunks of junk that in my eyes were treasure. Trying on her old dresses and high heeled shoes. Spending countless hours going through her closets and wardrobe and digging through her jewlery. Gram taught me many things about life. She was the one that taught me how to paint my nails (always bright red or pink) and how to apply lipstick. She was the one that introduced me to gooseberry and strawberry-rhubarb pies. She taught me to love the "Price is Right" which I still try to watch sometimes. She was the first to show me how to sew and the most important thing she taught me was to love the garden and all that came from the earth.

This past weekend, my garden club, The Dundee Diggers, hosted a garden tour. I was fortunate enough to be picked to show off my garden. I was the only vegetable garden on the tour. I was looking back on photographs of my Grams garden and how spectacular it was with at least a whole acre plot dedicated to it (mind you this was in the city). It was gorgerous as the vegetables were littered between rows of sweet smelling flowers. In comparison, my garden sucks, but every time I pull a weed, smell my dill, or see a bleeding heart, memories of my Gram burn my heart. My eyes mist with longing that she was here so I could tell her how much I love her and show her how much I learned from her. I know without a doubt that my Gram was with me Sunday as people crowded my yard all day long and she was beaming with pride. She knows....

I remember Grandma's garden
The beauty and the grace
Of all the lovely plants
In that sweet small place
I remember Grandma's smile
As she planted, pruned, and tilled
Laboring with love and laughter
As this world with joy she filled
I remember Grandma's patience
When I ran amid the flowers
With her beauty all around me
We would spend those precious hours
I remember Grandma's garden
And I'm happy in the knowing
That when she knelt there in the soil
It wasn't just a garden she was growing

Grams Garden looking east

Grams Garden looking west (and there was still a dozen rows the picture didn't capture)

My Front beds (with the garden tour sign)

My garden (everything from watermelon, pumpkins to dill and cilantro- updates to come as it starts getting bigger)