Jacob's Ladder

I have a perennial addiction that I've had to curb this year. The lovely acreage that I enjoyed in Buffalo was a pallet that I enjoyed learning on. When Matt wasn't looking I'd run off to the Eckhart Road greenhouse, wholesalers of perennials for the local greenhouses and nurseries, and pick up a gallon pot (only $5!), or two, or three... . The game was I'd plant them and see how long it would take Matt to notice. As a former "lawn care specialist" (overstated, dear?) in high school, it generally took no time at all for him to catch me at my game. We loved to watch the land and how it grew. I was successful at full-sun flowers thanks to the great instruction of my friend, Lori, who just keep encouraging me, "You can't kill 'em, Heidi. It's a no-brainer." Rudbeckia, echinacea, coreopsis, day-lillies, Russian sage and double-daisies. She had luscious, gorgeous perennials that she, too, made over as if they were mini-children, making me a beautiful jar full of the current blooms for my birthday. I wanted to, and continue to want to invest in perennials.

Last year I spent a large amount of time fussing about the rock garden just out behind the house. It lived underneath two enormous shady trees. The only things it really grew well at it's sunny edges were myrtle and lily of the valley. I dug up and cultivated the top half with manure and hummus (ever watch a nine-month-pregnant woman garden?!? I imagine it was hillarious!) , and put in my best effort to populate it with something wonderful: Three Astilbe, sweet woodruff, one Solomon's seal, and two Jacob's ladder. The only survivors that first year were the astilbe and sweet woodruff. Solomon's seal and Jacob's ladder were accidentally stomped and broken by the toddler and the Newfoundland early in the process. Lori assured me if I cut them back I would see them return again this summer. So I waited and waited, looking forward to enjoying a garden full of swaying, smart shade flowers.

And then came the move.

I often think back to my garden and wonder what it looks like this year. Perennials are exciting because they show forward momentum with their growth. Lori said, "The first year they sleep. The second, they creep, and the third, they leap." I so wanted to believe that the Solomon's seal and Jacob's ladder would be in bloom, and that, somehow, my life would bloom with it. As you can imagine, there are endless life-lessons from flowers, especially perennials. Gardening has been an area where God speaks clearly and quietly to me as I kneel in the dirt and work. It's meditation and cultivation of my soul. (Another day I'll tell you why.)

This year, this new era, is marked by a big, beautiful sunny yard, complete with large hydrangea blooms (my Buffalo hydrangea only ever weakly bloomed on one half of the bush...), tiger lilies, little buttery day lilies, prairie onions, and lilac trees. Matt made me promise, "I, Heidi Furr, (right hand raised, left hand on the Bible) will not plant perennials this year. I promise to study the sun/shade patterns and watch what grows. I am pregnant and sick and chasing two babies. I promise to not frustrate myself (or my husband) by trying to plant a garden. This, I solemnly swear." So I have been good... and experiencing withdrawal. LOL

A woman in my church had a long conversation with me once at a party. We got to talking flowers, particularly perennials. She, too, had a similar love of flowers. I wanted to know the good greenhouses, good prices in this area, so that when I could buy I'd save time looking around. Every now and then I'd call out to her at church, "It was beautiful this week! I was thinking about you and flowers!"

In light of my "Hit Hard" blog, you may understand the subtle implications of what I'm about to write. Sunday, Dawn came to me with a large paper grocery bag. "Just because you promised Matt you wouldn't buy flowers doesn't mean that I can't buy you flowers." We laughed, but as I looked into the bag I burst into tears. There, standing tall, and in bloom, was a Jacob's ladder.