Getting Life Back in Focus

Big life choices are never easy. And sometimes the fear of making a wrong choice can be paralyzing, leaving us in that state of status quo that can be alternately comfortable and stifling.  The reality that choices I make can affect so many different people seems too often to escape me... until I start making mistakes. This week was an avalanche of human interaction where it seemed just about everywhere I turned I had made a choice that left someone angry, frustrated, or resentful. Now let me make this clear - most of the choices I'm talking about here are not ethical, moral, or issues of propriety - most of what I'm dealing with has to do with shades of pansies, timing of plant installations, or baby blanket colors. And it really started with a choice I made to leave my comfort zone and step into something a bit more challenging. And a part of that avalanche of human interaction on a more personal level started months ago when I chose to speak the truth to those I care about. 

Now, I won't go into all the details of my terrible, horrible, no-good week. This is not a post to elicit empathy. This is about the result of owning my weaknesses and failures, looking at what really matters in life, and accepting the fact that living outside my comfort zone will sometimes and maybe even way too often leave me - why am I surprised by this - uncomfortable. 

So today I rode my bike, I enjoyed my garden, and I sat and looked for hours at growing up pictures of my precious sons. (And watched some football of course because it IS a Saturday in autumn).  I thought of how blessed I am to be a mother. I thought of how fortunate I am to work in a profession that is fascinating to me and continually allowing me learn more. And as I walked through my garden, I realized that once again my garden had something to teach me about life and persevering through the hard times. 

Perseverance - walking through my garden I saw plants that had endured a blistering June and psychotic weather changes the rest of the summer. These Encore azaleas had the grandest display I'd ever seen in late fall, their girlie flirty delicate flowers seem a stark contradiction to the stress they had endured.

The hydrangea plants are a spindly mess right now but are laden with several heavy blooms that stand out significantly against all the weary foliage around it.

I love the new coreopsis that have come out these last few years - plants that hide how tough they are because of their airy foliage. Even now they keep on giving providing food source for our pollinators.

This is blooming wonderfully around my mailbox right now. Passionflower was used in traditional early American medicine as an herb to treat anxiety and hysteria. Wish I'd had some of that long with me to offer some of my clients this week...

Kerria japonica plenifora - graceful and happily blooming after months of neglect.

Another variety of those wonderful new coreopsis "Fruit Punch".

Reblooming Iris

Black and Blue salvia

 Pineapple Salvia -

Senorita Blancha Cleome

Lobularia Blushing Princess - bloomed ALL SUMMER LONG!

One of my all-time favorite summer annuals - Troy's Gold Plectranthus

And this is the "big, old, wild shrub" that hubby couldn't understand why I wanted to keep it. Until he sat on our back porch a couple of weeks ago and kept wondering what that delightful fragrance was. Yesterday I showed him what our scent of the season was - Elaeagnus (silverberry). The beauty of life is not always seen in every season. Pressing on with hope that the good will come, and maybe not as we expected - in a subtle fragrance rather than a showy flower - and my garden inspires me once again that in my weary and worn out state beauty can grow.

The Growing Zone - Day 39

As I've mentioned before in "The Growing Zone", horticulture and the world of landscaping and gardening can serve as a backdrop to either reflect or expose what is going on or growing on inside of us. The stories of a garden are in many ways the stories of life, and sometimes I simply have to remember the truths that God has taught me through my interaction with His botanical handiwork to gain direction for other areas in my life.
When one of my sons was young and wanted to be outside with me while I was working in the yard, he decided he would help me by pulling up all the "weeds" that were in one of my flower beds. By the time I got over to see what he was doing, over 200 of the crocus and daffodil bulbs that I had planted the previous fall had been pulled up. I was aghast. But the hardest thing to bear was the misunderstanding in my son's face when, after he had thought he worked so hard to help me and couldn't wait to see my pleasure, all he saw was dismay and disappointment. That precious relationship between mother and son, between nurturing soil and growing bulb was briefly interrupted. Forgiveness became the soil that regrew relationship as we worked together to replant bulbs and restore what had been removed. Some of the bulbs survived, some did not, and some didn't bloom until the following year.
Over the years I have found myself on both sides of the forgiveness field - the one needing to forgive and the one needing forgiveness. Sometimes I have been the unwitting puller of crocus causing deep disappointment in another. Left to lie on top of the ground, a relationship that has been pulled by its roots because of words or actions that have been misunderstood or misspoken will never have a chance to bloom again. Restoration comes when forgiveness is coupled with genuine sorrow and repentance where needed. With tears as healing rain and understanding as healthy sunshine, regrowth can begin.

My gardening friend, Helen Weis, recently posted this with the comment that "Forgiveness is not what effects them... Forgivess is what effects you."
My wish this Christmas season is that regrowth and restoration be accomplished within all our lives. The Christmas story is one of love and redemption, and most of all about forgiveness.

"Mary, Did You Know" video

And You Thought Your Bed Was Cold

Welcome Home, Jonathan Wise

Poppa Jon and Aiden
Jonathan and Alex
Dad (my hubby, Steve) flew to Hawaii for the homecoming
Steve, Jonathan, Aiden, Alex (with baby due in just a few weeks - doesn't she look fabulous!), and Alex's mom Donna

The Arrival

The Peter Principle vs. Peter's Principles and The Tale of Two Katies

The last few days have been very interesting. In a few short weeks my day job has gone from being a venue that I dealt with confidently (annual and container plantings for a large development company) to the huge learning curve job of overseeing the company’s entire landscape and irrigation installation department. I look in the eyes of those I work with and see “but she’s just the ‘the flower lady’” and almost hear their heads rattle as they shake them in dismay. The term ‘the Peter Principle’ seems to be on everyone’s lips.

Was this a position I sought and fought for? No.

Is this a position I embrace. Of course. It never occurred to me that I couldn’t do this job. My only concern has been, “How long until I can do this job with excellence,” and “will I be given the tools to learn my job well.” I tend to ignore the Peter Principle, which is the idea that in business, people are promoted into jobs with duties they cannot fulfill, and hope my focus is more on Peter’s principles.

You may have heard of Peter – he was fisherman who became a disciple of Christ, who was always sticking his foot in his mouth, who seemed to act first and think later, yet Christ chose him to be the person to help build his church. And Peter wrote two letters, the first of which spoke some of how I should handle my responsibilities as an employee (I Peter 2:13-21) by showing respect to all those around me, to do good in all I do, and to serve diligently those I serve. Peter’s life was about hard work, having a teachable spirit, and not being afraid to face his mistakes and learn from them. His influence was felt more deeply because he knew he needed the help of others.

The more I thought about living out Peter’s principles, the more I thought about the stories I have followed over the last few years of two very different Katie’s. Katie deSwanville has a blog called NorCalKatie and I enjoy her thought provoking post and perspective on life and gardening. I gained keen interest in her writing, though, when I read that she had been stricken with spinal meningitis and hovered near death for months. She faced an obstacle that destroys many lives, yet the moxie that I enjoyed in her pre-meningitis days when she would face life’s obstacles and proclaim, “Bring it!” seemed to be her subconscious battle cry in her long recovery. There are no skills for battling death, there is only a passion to live. This is a gal who seems almost polar opposite to most of what I believe socially, politically, and spiritually. But her mantra is “Be not afraid of death.
Be afraid of the unlived life.” The learning curve seems to be her mode of operation.

The other Katie is another 20 something who left for Uganda at age 18 for a year of mission work and has ended up being foster mother to 15 young women and starting a mission to educate and care for hundreds of orphans in this war ravaged country. Katie Davis had no formal skills to do what she did (you MUST read her book, Kisses From Katie), but she had plenty of passion. Her young life has inspired and influenced more lives than most folks ever will, and the thought, "Can I do this?" never seems to part of her forward motion.

So I’m thinking that as I plan to stay away from ‘The Peter Principle’ and follow Peter’s Principles, I might just start saying I’m using the Katie Principle – to look at what is set before me, to use the passion that has driven me to this industry (what a great way to ‘Cultivate a Culture of Gardening’ by setting an example of good gardening principles in landscape installment!), and look that learning curve in the eye and proclaim, “Bring it!”.

When Life Reflects Fiction

It was like a scene taken from the literary files of William Goldings' Lord of the Flies. We are sitting around a table trying to work out details for upcoming projects: we are not children on a deserted island but are equals in our positions having to work out the details that have been previously outlined for us to accomplish. The interaction begins as to who needs what to survive - which in the business world means getting your assigned tasks done in the time allotted with efficiency and quality output. A tense debate ensues as I begin to stress that we have a guideline to follow - of course I see myself as the protagonist, insisting that we follow the rules set before us and work as a civilized group toward the common good. The antagonist of the group proclaims that he is a realist - that what must be done is based on his reality of what he sees to be done. It is his greater knowledge of what lies before us that we must follow, protecting us from the "Beast", otherwise known as our ignorance of all the needs and demands upon him that he must fullfill to portray his supremacy in our group.
It is an interesting dynamic and I find within myself that survival instinct, to fall into his modus operandi and fight for my way - which would be to follow the guidelines set before us. While I still can self-righteously proclaim that I am fighting for the common good, my instinct is ruled more by anger, which proves ineffective in a business workplace and causes me to lose proper perspective.
I come to realize that I am not going to get much support for my position from others at the table when there arises the character most like Golding's Piggy who, while not given to fighting, is a peace-maker at heart and helps to bring us to a workable solution.
In the end, what the antagonist seems not to realize is that his tasks are brought to fruition not by only his own hand but because of the tireless effort of the group. Much was sacrificed so that he could succeed.
Golding shows that fiction is just daily reality with names and locations changed.

Day 344 - Parenting Lessons From Plants

Plants at my house don't get pampered. In fact, these planters - picture taken today - were sadly neglected for several weeks as I traveled from plant nerd activities to daughter duties to mom responsibilities all over the southeast. I returned from all my travels last week to find plants that endured heat drought conditions - wilty planters looking way beyond recuperation. But the day after my return, we had 2 full days of slow steady rain.
Do these plants look unloved to you now?
On the other hand, I have several areas where I've had serious over-watering issues due to irrigation problems or over-eager watering personnel. These plants that had too much of a good thing have suffered the worst this summer, most are spindly and weak or bearing few flowers.
Both areas where these plants are growing, the plants are admired, valued, and appreciated. But plant care, like parenting, is a balance of giving and of letting growth occur from roots reaching deep to find what is needed.
Sometimes I need to work in my garden to remember that letting my children feel a little stress along the way is ok. Yes, I'd much rather they have everything - and more - that they need. But I know that for them to learn to reach deep, to reach beyond just what I can provide for them, the stronger they become. And the easier they recover from drought seasons of life around them.

Because Team Is About More Than Just Winning and Losing

If you've read much of my blog, you know that there are several things that I'm passionate about - my family, my plants, my books, and my football teams. My youngest son, Buck, and my second son, Robert, taught me to love another kind of football: soccer. So tonight, if you only read this blog to see pretty plants, I'm letting you know that this is about Buck's team, about brotherhood, about friendship, about winning, about great loss, and about hope. I see hope all the time in the garden. I didn't know I could see hope like this in a soccer team.
http://vimeo.com/25052128

CPA Boys Soccer 2010-11 from CPA Communications on Vimeo.

Day 237 - When Plants Reflect Life

A little over a month ago I brought these planters home from the greenhouse. The center plant - a variegated Manihot or tapioca plant - was a new plant for me to use in container plantings and they had seemed to be desperately struggling. After arriving in the greenhouse in pristine condition from Greenleaf Nurseries, they fell under the fascination of my morning watering guy who was determined to make sure this beautiful plant did not dry out. Knowing that all this attention could drown this plants' hope for success, I instructed the planting crew to go ahead and assemble the inserts [these are the pressed pulp pots that we use to plant many of our container plantings in at the the greenhouse, where we allow them to fill in, then plop them into the designated decorative container] using the somewhat over-watered Manihot. Bottom line - these poor plants went through some rough handling in the replanting process, resulting in them completely defoliating within hours of replanting. And this in turn led to my morning watering guy (even after repeated instruction in correct watering requirements) determined to bring this plant back to life with more water.



So the struggling stick-looking Manihot with their newly planted small plugs of coleus, calibrachoa, and verbena that surrounded them came home with me, to sit on my back wall - to soak up the heat and sunshine, to be given time alone to heal with proper attention needed for healthy survival.

The plugs have flourished, the Manihot is determinedly putting out new leaves though a few bare places remain. Time, and care by those that understand what is needed, help to bring recovery.

This past spring has been a season of abundant good things - graduation from high school for #3 son that came with accolades, awards, and scholarships; wedding plans for #2 son with all the joy and busyness that brings; the enjoyment of having #4 son willingly work alongside me in my vegetable garden and seeing his excitement about growing our own food; a week of enjoying #1 son's family (including the adorable grandson!) who live so far away; and on top of all that, fulfilling the incredible opportunity for me to write a book on container gardening.
But this past spring also has been a season of hardship - learning that the precious friend of #3 son has Leukemia and watching her battle with the effects of treatment; sending #1 son back to the middle east for his third tour of duty with the Marines; the tragic death of #4 son's friend and the effect it has had on our school and community; watching the devastation of tornadoes around the country; and even the life-changing accident of my co-worker's husband, which in its ripple effect, meant more time I needed to be at work and less time to be writing the book that I so eagerly want to finish.

Abundance of good things - like life-giving water that is flooding me with blessing- and the rough trials of life that left me feeling stripped bare: like the Manihot I am finding rejuvenation
in the warmth of Christ's love, in the knowledge of His faithfulness, in the friendships that walk with me, and even in the caring for others who are hurting.

And we keep on growing.

Day 227 - In Memory of Michael

As our school community, family, and friends grieve the loss of 17 year old Michael Daniel today, I couldn't help but pause as I was clicking through pictures when I saw this. If you'd ever seen Michael play soccer, you'd know his distinctive mop of dark curls that seemed to have a mind of their own as they flew in all directions. Maybe it's the sadness and the need to have something to make me smile, but this planter just reminded me of Michael's hair!
Michael fell while skateboarding this past Sunday night and has been fighting for his life for the last three days. Tonight his fight ended, and this friend to my son, this son of my friends, will be greatly missed.
And Michael, we will all miss seeing that mop of hair go flying down the field.

Orchids in My Office

Yesterday I was out to dinner when a sweet lady from one of the neighborhoods that I maintain came by my table to thank me for making her neighborhood so colorful and beautiful all year round. She then asked about my home - wondering if I had such beautiful containers and plantings at my own house.
My husband almost snorted out his iced tea.
Now I discussed this topic a couple of weeks ago in this blog - the shameful agony of my "cobbler's children" containers. I went to the greenhouse this week and with the pleasant weather gathered all the plants I needed to make my late winter containers look incredible so I wouldn't feel so negligent to my little planters (and in case this sweet little lady decided to drive by my house). But then I got an email from my publisher with the first deadline on my book, and the boys had activities they needed me to attend, it rained all day on Saturday, and on and on... so, my planters were still empty.
Yea, I know. I just need to hire myself.




But every once in a while someone does something to help me keep a little beauty in my close up
world to calm the anxious beast in me that works way to many hours doing what I love to do, just at other places than my own home. My husband brought me cyclamen for Valentine's Day. Costa Farms sent me this gorgeous orchid to bring life to my office full of planting schedules, community lot maps, plant catalogs, order forms, stacks for billing, and very outdated pictures of my children.

And last Saturday one of my sons said he would help me get our vegetable garden ready for planting. I think he was just hungry. But a few hours of teenage muscle made a big difference in our readiness to plant. I didn't even mind that he thought taking pictures of me sweating and dirty was a fun way to take a break.


So what exactly am I communicating in this post?
That life sometimes seems out of focus - that I often concentrate on clean, crisp jobs well done in all that goes on in my working world, and that can leave the rest of life a blur. Sometimes the little things - the small flowering orchid in my office, the gift of time to help in the garden - can help bring the priorities of life back into focus.


One down, 17 more to go.

In Whatever State I Am

I saw the title to Lee Hotchkiss's book, 'In Whatever State I Am' and thought, "That Lee is so clever!"

He and his wive Bev had spent a year traveling the country in an RV and had written a book that included tales of their experience. I've known Lee and Bev for over 2o years - Lee as my Sunday School teacher and friend, Bev as a mature wive and mother who walked beside me during my younger days as a wife and mother with a military husband, especially during the trying days of Desert Storm. When I heard about Lee's book, I was somewhat expecting ear- tickling stories that left me with an applicable point to ponder at the end. What I hadn't expected was to be so deeply moved to examine my life and priorities and to re-examine where I put my relationship with God in those priorities. Honestly, I SHOULD have known what to expect - this is Lee Hotchkiss who is writing! He has always been about looking at the truth of who God is and how does my relationship with God affect the way I live and interact with others.

In this book, Lee takes us on this journey with him by walking us through the real life questions and struggles that he and Bev encountered during their travels. But with the giftedness of a good teacher, he clearly provides principles that work as our road map in guiding us to understanding what genuine contentment entails. With the cleverness of a wise teacher, he provides reflective questions that serve to prepare us for the next lesson in our understanding of contentment.

So why am I writing about a book on contentment in a gardening blog? Simple. Lee's book is about blooming where you are planted. It's even more about knowing Who planted you there and trusting Him to take you through the seasons and storms of life. This is a book for those who are willing to examine the roots of their faith, who want to grow in the soil of contentment, and who long for a fruitful life that will feed the hearts of others.

The Foreshadowing of a Few Spring Bulbs

One of my favorite things to do this time of year is plant spring blooming bulbs like Daffodils, Narcissus, Tulip, Crocus, Scilla, Fritillaria, Anemone blanda, and an assortment of other bulbs. Sometimes planting by headlamp at the end of a workday (thanks to daylight savings time) I eagerly invest my time in burying these little treasures away knowing that the anticipation of their arrival is a source of hope and excitement during those cold winter days. Unnoticed they root in and grow until those early spring blossoms announce, "The time has come to celebrate who we are!" There is newness of life that is fresh, invigorating, hopeful, and beautiful.
In this picture, the flowering bulbs (tulips and daffodils) act almost as a foreshadowing for this couple. Here on their first date to Prom, love was planted, growing quietly over the next few years until the time was right for them to declare, "The time has come for us to celebrate - we're getting married!"
I snapped this picture almost 5 years ago of my son, Robert - a high school junior, and this mystery girl named Caitlin - a sophomore. Their friendship and growing love has been as natural as a bulb in good soil. This coming July my husband and I, her parents, and a host of friends and family will celebrate who they are together! The love I see between them is fresh, invigorating, hopeful, and beautiful.
There is joy in knowing that things like bulbs and young love are planted, and given time to grow can then provide such loveliness for so many to enjoy.
Congratulations on your engagement, Robert and Caitlin. I love you both!
Robert and Caitlin at their engagement party.

The Tie That Binds

I sat outside the hospital door with my head in my hands sobbing. The cries of pain were still racking my mind and at 3 am at the LosAngeles Children's hospital there were few options for places to escape the searing wails of agony. I felt the soft hand on my shoulder and heard, "Are you alright?" The last thing these busy night nurses needed was for this grandmother to be falling apart on them. All I could get out was, "There is so much pain... so much pain... " and I pointed to our room. The nurse peeked in and saw my restless but quiet year and a half old grandson; he had finally quieted down after nearly an hour of painful screams as the anesthesia had started to wear off from his surgery and before the morphine and other pain meds took effect. She looked a little confused and once again gently responded, "Aiden seems to have calmed down; we'll keep on schedule with the pain medicine for another 24 hours. Aiden is really doing well."
Yes, thankfully, Aiden's surgery had gone well and I knew that going through the pain was a part of the recovery to his new health. What this kind nurse did not realize was that the cries of pain coming from the young boy sharing our room were more the source of my emotional meltdown. In the hours that that we had shared this room I learned that the 13 yr old boy 3 feet and a thin curtain away has cancer. He had come in to find out what was causing his severe headaches that had him up throughout the night screaming for his mother to hold him, to take the pain away, to even "hurt my feet so I won't feel my head!". So much pain and so little hope for this young boy. So much pain and such agonizing helplessness for the parents. The tears I shed were not my own; my tears were the ones that the parents had no time to shed on this long long evening. There is a sharing of suffering that bonds humanity if we allow ourselves to hear and embrace the agony of others, a sharing that brings compassion rather than impatience, a desire to help rather than judge.
So "why are you writing about all this in a gardening blog?" some may ask. Gardening has often been a good tool for teaching life skills, especially in parenting. Lessons in nurturing and pruning come to mind immediately. But what adheres this post in my gardening sphere is that the bond that unites gardeners is on a less intense scale very similar to that bond that unites parents and grandparents. There is a joy in creating a garden, a family; there is a suffering and heartache in growing a garden, a family. My children are often puzzled by my quickly formed friendships within the internet gardening world. Through blogs, tweets, e-mails, and phone calls my gardening friends have shared my disappointment over lost crops (the May 1, 2010 flood), have advised on pest or growing issues, have sent seeds and soil amendment samples, have agonized over the loss of a heirloom rose. There is a sharing of suffering that bonds humanity if we allow ourselves to hear and embrace the agony of others, a sharing that brings compassion rather than impatience, a desire to help rather than judge.
The tie that binds me to the family that shared our hospital room is a kindred chord to the tie that binds me to my gardening world. Sometimes all we can do is weep for others; but the time comes when we can do more. That is the time to sow the seeds of service, to grow a row of kindness, to harvest the bond of friendship.
Aiden with Momma Alex 3 days after spinal surgery. Aiden was born with Spina Bifida.