Stopping the Book

| Flower Roberts

I made the decision to stop writing the book I have been working on for two years. The threads of storyline that I started out with have been twisted and severed. The Pearson Women took on a life of its own and took me down roads I never anticipated.

I have uncovered many surprises and several shocks along the way. I have learned alot about my family history. My research has been the subject of family discussions.

I hit a really rough spot several weeks ago. I spent hours trying to find little details I needed which turned up nothing. I have been hitting dead ends and finding dead sources.

The research about the train wreck that killed my great grandfather in 1959 was the clincher. I won’t visit that dark rabbit hole again.

The Pearsons

I have uncovered details about relatives that were not shared for a reason. I believe that sometimes the folks of the past protect the future generations from their sadness by not passing along harmful, painful information.

Maybe someday I will pull out my files and do profiles of each of the characters for my children and realtives to enjoy.

But for now, I am going to be grateful for the good things these people passed down to my generation. I choose to trust their judgement in leaving some things buried in the past.

FLOWER drawing the line.

The Tree in the Dale

| Flower Roberts

I have always admired trees. Their shape and their shade are appreciated. There are some trees that I especially love. I remember these as important landmarks. I look for these old friends when I return to those places.

I went back to the picnic spot by the mountain stream yesterday. I took a bag of root chips, water and my camera. I meant to bring a book, but it was left in the kitchen. I go to this place to read. There is spotty phone service and no internet here, so it keeps me form scrolling the horrific events of war and politics. I make myself take breaks between calls and letter writing and posting and sharing…

I wandered around with my memories along the banks of the streams. There have been changes. I will share that later. I was looking for things that have not changed. I need some mooring right now. What could be more steadying than an old, familiar tree?

This was one of the sights I came for…The Tree in the Dale.

It stands in the middle of lovely sloping pastures. From the picnic site, only its crown is visible. It peeks over the hills. Seeing just its top was a comfort. I was not up for a hike to its shade.

I just wanted to put my eyes on this tree that I have loved through time. I keep returning to places of the past. Searching for echoes. Hoping for old threads to attach myself to.

A tree is pretty steady mooring for that.

I am grateful for the tree in the dale.

FLOW

Familiar Faces from Home

| Flower Roberts

I really needed a visit from my flowers this morning. Mr. Flower knew this. On his one day off, he took the time to tour our yard and photograph my flowers.


I have kept his shadows in the photos to remind me who took these pictures.  This is a very sad fifth anniversary for our family. Actually it was worst day of our lives, especially for him and his mom and sis.  

On this day he has chosen to send me flowers.That’s what love looks like. The real kind. The long game.


Thank you so much hubby. Enjoy your day at the farm. Hug your sister. Carry on.

Here he is photographing our thirty-six-year-old azaleas. I was young then. I could not decide on a color, so I bought one of each. My first horticultural experiment at the lake.

Mr. Flower’s shadow

Grateful

Love FLOWER

A Walk at Flat Top

| Flower Roberts

I tried another new trail today. I am picking flat places to walk by myself. Any time I hike on uneven terrain or wander off the trail, some stumbling starts. I did not take my walking stick today, so I had to be extra careful.

Brackets and moss on a dead tree.

Today’s walk was on one of the roads around the Flat Top Manor, which is also known as the Moses Cone Estate. The mansion is not open yet, but you can park and walk the grounds.

Moses Cone Estate

I am happy to report that I wobbled but did not fall down today. I also got some pictures of lovely bracket fungi. I found colonies on several dead trees. Brackets are identified by color, top texture and pores.

I did not risk climbing up or down banks to identify these. We will appreciate them from afar.

Large bracket

I also spotted a single Bloodroot bloom.

Bloodroot flower

Finding all this and not falling down was a win:win!

FLOWER

Great Grandpa Pearson

| Flower Roberts

This man will be the subject of my writing this week.

LOREN PEARSON

I never met him.

He was killed by a train on his own farm when his truck stalled on the tracks.

I wonder if Great Grandma heard the crash?

This trainwreck was a pivotal event in the lives of THE FOUR PEARSON WOMEN.

FLOWER

Fire Lily Bloom is Just a Little Spark

| Flower Roberts

Bummer. I have done too much hovering again. My ‘Fire Lily’ orange Clivia has squealed on my overzealous mothering by putting up a short stalk with only two flowers.

CLIVIA after too much mothering.

I brought it to the mountain because it is a favorite. I wanted to keep an eye on it. It needed to go to the cool basement and kept dry. Instead I kept it upstairs and watered it with the other plants. It’s a baby, it needed to grow!

I will not make the same mistake next fall. I will be able to carry it down the stairs and check on it without watering it. I have avoided steps and hills for over two years.

I walked two miles for the first time since hip surgery with my friend Libby yesterday. That was my post surgery goal. Hooray. I plan to soon return to the trails with my trusty walking stick which turns into a seat.

Let’s hope my more mature Clivia ‘Good Hope’ won’t end up with a short stem, too. It is usually a show stopper when it’s giant yellow bloom opens.

I need to quit this smothering!

FLOW

Mama’s Pansies

| Flower Roberts

I cannot see a pansy without thinking of Mama. The earliest flowers at Enwood were pansies. The flower garden at the lamp post was called ‘The Pansy Bed.’

Photos of Mama’s pansies

This is our first spring without Mama, so planting pansies feels different. The first time I went to buy some, I cried and left. But I returned yesterday and took my time perusing the pansies and thinking of Mama.

Delta Tapestry

Her pansies had to be pinkish but complicated. I chose Viola Collosus ‘Rose Medley’ and Viola ‘Delta Tapestry.’ Rose Medley got put in a pot this morning.

Viola Collosus ‘Rose Medley’

I clipped some blooms to press between parchment. I plan to put these in a frame in the Pansy Room.

Flattened for drying

We named the bedrooms here on the mountain. Mama’s namesake is The Pansy Room. The door is marked by a big beautiful pansy sticker.

Door of The Pansy Room

There are pictures of Mama’s pansy bed at Enwood on display. There is a photo of Mama standing by her pansies in a colorful dress.

Mama with her pansies at Enwood.

Rose and I have found pansy fabrics to use in that room. Rose even has pansy sheets for her bed in there.

Pansy material

Not to leave Daddy out, another room is ‘The Bluebird Room.’ That post will come after my sister and I finish repainting Daddy’s bluebird houses. Stay tuned.

FLOW

Photos Sent from Home

| Flower Roberts

I usually love spring. This year I miss my gardens, but I am constantly reminded of my lack of stamina. It is frustrating for an over-achiever like me to run out of steam before finishing simple projects. It happened again today.


Mr. Flower just sent me these photos from home. Home is on a hill with steps inside and out. The house on the mountain does not require cilmbing hills nor steps, but one hip or the other hurts just about every day.
I listen to that pain. I am not ready to push through it. My body has been through too much trauma and slow healing to risk further injury.

I am happy to see these familiar faces as I rest before “round two” of  chores and projects. I wanted to be “Strong by Spring.” That has been my mantra. I will continue to carefully work toward that goal.

Here are today’s blooms from home.

Quince in a fence.
Daffodils on a hill.
Poncirius bloom fully opened.
Thalia being gorgeous.
Almond bush from Enwood in full bloom.

FLOW

My Garden Back Home

| Flower Roberts

I have abandoned over thirty years worth of gardening work at Wildwood. Every time I go home I work too hard try to make up for lost time. Mr. Flower tries to get me to relax. We did sit a spell in the gliders out in the sunshine one afternoon. Neither one of us can sit still for long.

This is my second spring away from home. The spring before that I could barely walk, so technically my garden has been neglected for three growing seasons. I am amazed it is not worse. My husband tries to manage the worse spots. I noticed scattered piles of last year’s dead foliage. I appreciate his efforts.

I am not strong enough to tackle the garden rehab myself. I am still working on my own healing. I feel overwhelmed looking at all that needs to be done back at home. My husband has too much responsibilities of his own to pick up my slack. Judge me if you must. I am in survival mode. It was me or everything else. I chose me.

I silently walked the deck perimeter each morning with my coffee. I peered over the railing to see which plants were sending upgreen shoots. It was a bit liberating to see needs and not try take ownership of them. I know my limits. Set-backs are too brutal to risk.

I will brag that my gardens have good bones. My plants were well-chosen, well-placed and well-planted. They are surviving without my hovering. That was  always my goal.

Sweet Betsy reminds me of my friend Sandra. She had an Aunt Betsy and wanted part of this plant. She planted it in her yard in Charlotte.
This quince, Chaenomeles ‘Double Take Orange Storm’ is in a fence because the deer would demolish it.
White by the Gate Camellia must also confined to a big, tall circle of fence.
This tiny flowering almond bush came from my parent’s home on Enwood. I am so glad I took some before we sold it.
I almost missed the Edgeworthia blooming. These blooms have a magical scent.
Clusters of Starflower, ‘Alberto Castillo’, Ipheion uniflorum used to be in many locations around the gardens, but the deer herd has nibbled most down to stubs. These stray bulbs were  the only ones with blooms.

I am glad I made it back home for a garden check-up. I will try to get back more often now that there should be less snow to imprison me. This last set of blizzards made me rethink my present location for the first time ever.

Weeds will always win whether I am fighting them constantly or not.  I may eventually have to hire some help while I am home. Weeds winning does not make me sad.

Nature will ALWAYS WIN.

That is how it should be.

FLOWER