So many memories of plants. Tomatoes which my father grew commercially, then iris, freesias & lastly peppers. The lilac tree that stood at the side of the den that my brothers, sister & I made in the garden. Hollyhocks & lavender in my childhood garden along with lots of other lovely plants, the blackcurrants that my father grew & we picked to earn a bob or two - then given to neighbours or sold to a local hotel. The larch tree that my brother bought back & planted as a sapling from Scotland where he worked in the Forests, now a huge mature tree. I will stop before you all get bored....sorry.
Probably about a quarter of the plants and shrubs in the garden were gifts, cuttings from friends and strangers. . . . gardeners are a generous bunch and from plant swaps so I can walk round remembering these people, some of whom have sadly died.
The smell of stocks evokes memories of my father who loved them.
For me its got to be the plum tree my late mum planted in our garden which i now share with my own family. Its a brill tree to climb.
Also a hardy fuschia which grew outside our kitchen window when i was young. Loved popping the flowers, but getting told off and warned about being stung by bees oops
Wall to wall nasturtiums thanks to my dad. Every year he'd collect ALL the seeds and pass them round to family and friends. You can tell how close you are to my folks house by the density of nasturtium planting.
My memories of my Granda aren't evoked by any particular plant, maybe shallots because he always grew them, but by seeing wrens in the garden. He always got so excited and called me to have a look. He once gave me a farthing with my birth year on it just in case there were no real ones about that day.
Neither parent was keen on gardening and in fact got very cross with me when, aged 9, I spent one summer holiday day - home alone and bored - clearing the back half of our newish garden where I discovered a series of paths and square beds and all sorts of lovely plants lurking.
My paternal grandad, whom I hardly knew as he lived a long way away was a keen and inventive gardener so I assume the genes skipped a generation.
I don't have anything that reminds me of my childhood or long lost rellies but I do have some which were bought with friends on trips to Tatton or Malvern and local plant fairs here. I have others from swaps with friends and, should I move, these will come with me either whole or as cuttings or divisions so I can keep those memories and connections.
Vendée - 20kms from Atlantic coast.
"The price good men (and women) pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men (and women)."
Horseradish! When I was a child the land behind our house was used as a source of clay for a brickworks. My gran used to watch out for the men when they did their annual ground clearance and would yell out to them fo a root or two of horseradish. This was then planted at the end of my little patch of garden and used when we had roast beef.
Primroses always take me back to a wonderful oak wood near a villlage in Surrey that was carpeted with their flowers, growing among the brown oak leaves, that we found by chance on the way home from a childhood day out .
Blackberries. At blackberry time Dad would drop Mum and me off at the common on his way to work,and we would fill bags and baskets with blackberries and keep picking as we walked home, more than 4 miles. I remember one year I got stung by a wasp on my third finger as I reached for a berry and by the time I reached home it had swollen so much that I could barely move my hand. Luckily TCP was wonderful stuff! I still remember the tarts and crumbles and blackberry wine and jam too
I stilll have many plants from my MiL's garden and others I grow that my mum grew and some that came from friends and they go on giving a bittersweet pleasure long after their donors have departed this earth.
Posts
Hmm...what happened there?
Lupins my dad always grew them
Comos I grew as a child and started them again
Pot marigolds as well
Dad grew potatoes and cabbage
When I was 10 I asked him for a bit of garden so I could grow something, he asked me if I wanted to grow flowers I said I wanted to grow veg
So many memories of plants. Tomatoes which my father grew commercially, then iris, freesias & lastly peppers. The lilac tree that stood at the side of the den that my brothers, sister & I made in the garden. Hollyhocks & lavender in my childhood garden along with lots of other lovely plants, the blackcurrants that my father grew & we picked to earn a bob or two - then given to neighbours or sold to a local hotel. The larch tree that my brother bought back & planted as a sapling from Scotland where he worked in the Forests, now a huge mature tree. I will stop before you all get bored....sorry.
Probably about a quarter of the plants and shrubs in the garden were gifts, cuttings from friends and strangers. . . . gardeners are a generous bunch
and from plant swaps so I can walk round remembering these people, some of whom have sadly died.
The smell of stocks evokes memories of my father who loved them.
The smell of lavender reminds me of my grandma who taught me to make lavender sachets to put amongst clothes. Also, sweet peas remind me of her.
The smell of tomatoes in a green house and sheds always remind me of the large green house cum shed we had, and my Dad.
Red pelargoniums remind me of my Nan who grew them on her windowsill.
What a lovely thread
For me its got to be the plum tree my late mum planted in our garden which i now share with my own family. Its a brill tree to climb.
Also a hardy fuschia which grew outside our kitchen window when i was young. Loved popping the flowers, but getting told off and warned about being stung by bees oops
Wall to wall nasturtiums thanks to my dad. Every year he'd collect ALL the seeds and pass them round to family and friends. You can tell how close you are to my folks house by the density of nasturtium planting.
My memories of my Granda aren't evoked by any particular plant, maybe shallots because he always grew them, but by seeing wrens in the garden. He always got so excited and called me to have a look. He once gave me a farthing with my birth year on it just in case there were no real ones about that day.
Neither parent was keen on gardening and in fact got very cross with me when, aged 9, I spent one summer holiday day - home alone and bored - clearing the back half of our newish garden where I discovered a series of paths and square beds and all sorts of lovely plants lurking.
My paternal grandad, whom I hardly knew as he lived a long way away was a keen and inventive gardener so I assume the genes skipped a generation.
I don't have anything that reminds me of my childhood or long lost rellies but I do have some which were bought with friends on trips to Tatton or Malvern and local plant fairs here. I have others from swaps with friends and, should I move, these will come with me either whole or as cuttings or divisions so I can keep those memories and connections.
Horseradish! When I was a child the land behind our house was used as a source of clay for a brickworks. My gran used to watch out for the men when they did their annual ground clearance and would yell out to them fo a root or two of horseradish. This was then planted at the end of my little patch of garden and used when we had roast beef.
Primroses always take me back to a wonderful oak wood near a villlage in Surrey that was carpeted with their flowers, growing among the brown oak leaves, that we found by chance on the way home from a childhood day out .
Blackberries. At blackberry time Dad would drop Mum and me off at the common on his way to work,and we would fill bags and baskets with blackberries and keep picking as we walked home, more than 4 miles. I remember one year I got stung by a wasp on my third finger as I reached for a berry and by the time I reached home it had swollen so much that I could barely move my hand. Luckily TCP was wonderful stuff! I still remember the tarts and crumbles and blackberry wine and jam too
I stilll have many plants from my MiL's garden and others I grow that my mum grew and some that came from friends and they go on giving a bittersweet pleasure long after their donors have departed this earth.