The Language of Christmas Flowers

A Christmas angel in repose

Frosty's hat.  Maybe he doesn't need it in this warm Christmas weather we are experiencing right now in Northern Virginia.

It's Christmas Week and deeply rooted into the story of the birth of Jesus is a bouquet of well-loved holiday greenery and winter bloomers bringing the winter outdoors inside.  Few things can stir our holiday imaginings more than the swirling scents of fresh baked cookies, roaring fires, earthy pine trees and evergreen boughs at this time of the year and the list of plants and flowers woven into the Christmas Story is vast and steeped in legend and tradition. Here are a few of my favorite Christmas greens for decorating and a little of the special meaning they each bring to this season of love and celebration.

First, at the center of most indoor holiday decorations is the beautiful Christmas Tree, shining brightly, perfumed in pine and bedecked in simple to elaborate ornaments and trimmings.  Aside from presents on Christmas morning it may also be sheltering a peaceful manger scene, complete with shepherds and farm animals or a whimsical choo-choo train circling endlessly while huffing and puffing under the prickly boughs. Outside, the December air is crisp with the fresh scent of winter, whether it's emanating from a palm tree or giant Frazier fir, depending on where one lives. Trees have for centuries, stood as symbols of regeneration and life and there are several legends associated with the beginning of the Christmas tree, itself. One of the most popular stories comes from the 10th Century where it was believed that on the night Jesus was born, all the trees flowered and bore fruit, even if they were covered in ice and snow.  Thus, decorating a Christmas tree became an obvious choice in celebration and remembrance of the Jesus' birth by Christians all over the world.

While forcing cherry blossoms indoors in springtime is quite common, in many parts of Europe, branches plucked off of CHERRY TREES and brought inside at the beginning of Advent, can often bloom by Christmas, reflecting the miraculous birth of Christ.  These blossoms are reminders that even in the coldest and darkest of days, the regeneration of light and life is not far behind.  In English folklore, the HAWTHORNE TREE is important as it blooms twice a year; in the spring and also around the Day of Epiphany, making it meaningful to the original Journey of the Magi.

Freshly cut romantic and magical mistletoe.

Looking beyond the grand tree, standing gloriously as a showpiece in the front window of many homes, other plants and flowers have also become associated and bound together in a literary holiday wreath through centuries of well-loved Christmas legends, stories and songs. Take for instance, MISTLETOE, the symbol of healing and goodwill and long thought to have the power to make peace as well as the power to make merry.  Friends and family reconcile under it, often hanging mistletoe as a greeting from the top of a doorway.  Legend holds that "if you steal a kiss underneath it, your love will burn for many Christmas days."

My friend's kitty, Piper, seems captivated by magnolia leaves waiting to be arranged in a Christmas centerpiece.  I'm thinking Piper wants to be in the centerpiece, too.

There is little that evokes the smell of wintertime more than beautiful BOXWOOD with it's own fresh, strong scent that some may or may not like, others come to like and others still, will always love. Boxwood, clipped into neat and tidy trees, perfectly coiffed wreaths or standing free form in the garden is a symbol of constancy, strength and most importantly, love.  Other than it's ability to stay green, fluffy and fragrant, inside or out, there isn't much that associates this sturdy cultivar to the Christmas Story.  But, few things are prettier than boxwood, coupled with leathery, soulful MAGNOLIA leaves, in a Christmas arrangement of your own making.

Then, there is  HOLLY, the quintessential Christmas plant, memorialized in a famous carol. Since the age of early Rome, holly has been revered as a plant that brings courage to many and is considered a strong defense against evil, which, I'm sure, made it a highly prized gift. With the rise of Christianity, holly became a powerful symbol of Christ's life, representing his blood, his purity and his crown of thorns as well as his agony on the cross. Where there is holly, there is also the ever-clinging dark green of IVY, another favorite for decorating as it was once thought to be the female counterpart to the masculine holly. Together, through the ages, they oversee the running of the entire household at Christmastime.

One of Christmas' most popular plants, and an absolute favorite of mine, partly because of its heady and piney fragrance, is ROSEMARY, also known as one of the sacred plants of Mary, Mother of Jesus.  The story goes that Mary used the bush to dry Jesus' swaddling clothes.  Another story tells that the original tiny flowers of the bush were white (yet, some varieties of rosemary still produce white flowers and others produce pink flowers) but turned purple after Mary laid her purple robe on it while resting, during their flight out of Egypt with the newborn Jesus.  In any case, rosemary is also known for it's memory enhancing properties and makes a lovely addition to the Christmas bouquet.

POINSETTIAS and CHRISTMAS ROSES add color and delicacy to the emerald and ruby shades of the Advent Season, blooming in soft whites, deep creams, dusty pinks and vermilion reds. Native to Central America, poinsettias were once known as the "Flower Of The Holy Night" because it was believed that a young shepherd boy presented a bloom to the Baby Jesus the night of his birth. On the flip side of that, in Europe, a similar legend tells of a young shepherd girl who found roses in her path, left by angels.  She brought these white flowers that resemble real roses, but were really hellebores (an evergreen winter flowering perennial) to the Christ Child the night of his birth and left them as a gift.  Today, the Christmas Rose is still loved as it blooms twice a year; once in the early spring and again in the middle of winter.  Both bloom times occur around Easter Sunday and the Day of Epiphany.

The bay tees and myrtle trees of Blooming Hill keeping warm and cozy and helping to make our petite greenhouse one of my favorite places all through the winter.

Lady's Bedstraw.

Still, there are more plants and trees to add to the potpourri of Christmas. The ornamental, shrubby tree, the BAY LAUREL is an ancient symbol of triumph, glory and joy and, to this day, signifies to many, Christ's triumph over death--which makes this an important plant at Easter, too.  A little known delicate and grassy herb, called LADY'S BEDSTRAW was thought to be part of the manger hay where the Baby Jesus laid. Once he was taken out of the manger, the bed straw bloomed in a yellow haze of tiny flowers.

Finally, I can't forget the familiar scents of cloves, cinnamon and citrus swirled together with all of the above to evoke the spirit of the season by helping to feed our souls while we gather together to celebrate with the ones we love.  Merry Christmas to you, and have the happiest of Happy Holidays! Enjoy the holiday greenery that is everywhere and appreciate their messages of rebirth, joy, love, faith and hopefully, one day, peace. See you in the New Year.

(Writer's note:  The photo of Christmas potpourri came from Pinterest and the photos of mistletoe and ivy/mixed green bouquet and Lady's Bedstraw were taken from royalty free stock images on the internet.)

Oh, Christmas (Boxwood) Tree

Fresh boxwood tree topiaries, made here at Blooming Hill during the Topiary and Tea Workshop, ready for decorating.

Our "official" Christmas tree, decked out in the living room and looking very  magical and "fairy-ish"  in the early evening light of December.

It's Christmas tree season and all sorts of pine boughs, holly berry sprigs and other types evergreen branches are being transformed into some kind of holiday decoration for front doors, tabletops and fireplace mantels all across America.

Getting set for the outdoor portion of the workshop and tea

Since it is the season to be jolly, we also, thought we'd get in on the "bring the outdoors, inside movement" to Blooming Hill and go beyond lavender (because we are more than just one dimensional, you know) with a Topiary and Tea Workshop this past weekend, in honor of jingle bells, sugar plums, hot cocoa and caroling.

P. Lorenz, on a mission to cut enough fresh boxwood, a few weeks ago, at our friend, Charlotte's, charming historic home.  Boxwood, planted by her mother long ago, line up along the front and sides of the house as well as in the backyard, creating outdoor rooms painted in leafy emerald green all year long.  However, at this time of the year, the boxwood is especially beautiful. We collected tubs upon tubs of boxwood for our 'Topiary and Tea' event, then took them back to Blooming Hill to give the boxwood enough time to soak up as much water as the branches could hold, in order to prolong their suppleness and freshness. Peter seemed right in his element pruning the boxwood.  Given free reign, I think he would still be there cutting and reshaping it.

The day was sunny, easy, breezy and beautiful, just like these cover girls who dressed for the lovely December weather.

Everyone can use some sort of holiday tree to "green up" their family room and what could be more appropriate than a fresh boxwood tree topiary to make, take and enjoy at home?  So, we put the word out and lots of our friends came to take part in the festivities. We had a wonderful time helping them create their own little piece of whimsical holiday greenery that even Santa included on his own "must-have" list.

Working hard, or hardly working but having fun--all the same while creating the perfect boxwood tree.

You guessed it.  No one is really listening to his instructions on how to build the perfect tree.  Yet, he persevered and when some trees were "finished" they really weren't until P.Lorenz applied his own pruning signature to them--whether it was with a scissors or a hedge sheerer.  I was a little worried he might just go for the electric clippers but there was no need as each tree turned out beautifully, with or without his stamp of approval!

The day was all sunshine and lollipops, rainbows and and cheeriness, full of friends making new friends while exercising their Christmas creativity.   Boxwood clippings seemed to be everywhere, being transformed into conical shapes coiffed in red and green ribbons, glittered balls and silver and gold trimmings.  The fresh air of early winter and bright sunshine, mixed together, completed this outdoor party before we all went inside for cranberry orange scones smothered in Devon cream, star anise cookies with sugary lavender icing, dark chocolate truffles and lavender-infused ice cream all topped off with our own blend of piping hot citrus and lavender herbal tea to relax chilled fingertips and warm tired toes.  John Denver used to sing of a "Rocky Mountain High."  Well, we boast of a "Blooming Hill High," sugar-coated in our own kind of sweet treat happiness with a view of the Blue Ridge out our back door.

Holiday "Au natural" greenery artists at work

A few of our guests who beat the topiary rush into the "tea room" enjoyed their own peaceful moment and quiet conversation along with their tea and scones.

A Yule Log burned brightly in the fireplace while our life-sized Christmas tree played host to our guests and glowed with colorful ornaments and glittery lights in our cozy living room turned festive tea room.  For at least a little while, our guests forget their lists of "things to do" and "places to be" and shared with each other Christmas stories of past, present and future, all in the spirit of the season with holiday music floating above the tables.

Making boxwood trees was so much fun, we think we will do it again!  If you missed it, you may want to put it on your "must-do" list for next year.  We know we'll be here and hope you will be, too!

After it was all over and our guests had taken their boxwood masterpieces home, Peter and I sat down to make a couple more trees and, of course, Tucker the boss supervised, as usual.  Happy Holidays and enjoy your festive greens and trees, whatever they are made of and however, they are decorated.

Ghosts in the Graveyard

My daily walk with the dog down a country road becomes something more than ordinary every October as the tranquil scenes along the road take on a whole different character. The witching hour for ghosties and ghoulies is fast approaching as the moon swells a little more each night in the October sky and still shows itself in the early morning hours as a reminder of what is to come--Halloween.

Hello there!

Halloween, or All Hallows Eve--which sounds way more ominous, is a day when my seemingly normal and friendly neighbors gleefully reveal their spooky side and serendipity reigns supreme.  Each walk, leading up to the big event, reveals more surprises as I walk the dog on what appears to be peaceful, still mornings.

Notice the watchdog?

New, other-worldly forms and shapes, ranging from tame to almost sinister, appear in more and more front yards as Halloween draws near.  We walk a little more slowly and I find myself looking over my shoulder more than usual.  Even Tucker (the dog) stays close and chooses not to go near those skeletons waving at us as it feels like somebody is watching us through endless sunken eyes, I know it's all in good fun but it's easy to let my imagination run wild.

I always feel like somebody's watching me.

Where have all of the flowers gone?

My morning walk with the dog brings imaginings of whispy, swirling mists coming out to play from dawn till dusk in makeshift graveyards that emerge on the manicured lawns of otherwise typically neighborly homes. Headstones are accompanied by bony skulls and spindly hands ready to join in a game of, Ghosts in the Graveyard, aptly named in their honor.  It's a children's game that combines elements of hide and seek, tag and just good natured and old-fashioned scaring of each other on a dark evening all combined into one.   Even though this game is played any time of the year--it was one of my son's all-time favorites, while growing up, to play with friends and especially all of his cousins--it always transforms itself into full-blown technicolor at this time of the year.

So glad that this bicycle is not built for two!

The macabre adornments of the season make these "Ghosts in the Graveyard" come to life.  I wonder who's playing among the R.I.P. markers (and they are in every front yard along the road) when the kids are at school and what is dodging in and out of the trees when everyone is asleep?  Even those devil deer hide and watch the shadows from a safe distance while the owls hoot and howl to unheard and mysterious laughter.

Not exactly your typical Saturday Night at our friend's (Susan and Richard) house but it
looks as though they seem to be having a good time anyway.

The ghosties and the ghoulies are having fun as they patiently wait on those nice neighborly lawns to join the trick-or-treaters on All Hallows Eve.  Come November, they are off to the attics and basements, back into their boxes to wait until next October when they come out to play their own unique version of "Ghosts in the Graveyard" all over again and my walk with the dog will also slow down and become a little more cautious as the neighbors let their imaginations float and fly away with themselves as their ghosts in the their graveyards appear once more.

A Love Affair to Remember

P.Lorenz and son, at it again with pea gravel.

Digging out a small patio at the back of the shed.  

It's not like I have to check out the "Ashley Madison" website or anything but, I was a little shocked when, last Saturday evening, while spreading more pea gravel in a small area behind the shop he cleared to serve as an intimate seating area for those who come and want to enjoy a little Blooming Hill lavender ice cream, P. Lorenz proclaimed, "I think I'm having a love affair with pea gravel!"  Both the prodigal son and I laughed at that and then we started thinking and naming all of the garden projects that Peter finishes off with pea gravel, especially in the last year or so, here at Blooming Hill.  It suddenly wasn't funny anymore--it was true!  Come to think of it--he also likes to recycle fallen tree trunks for things, too--another love affair that could go down in history

Emptying load after load of pea gravel into this space takes some muscle.

Not to thick and not too thin but, just right.

Even the dog is getting into the act.  Of course, he thinks he's the supervisor and has to check everything out for quality control reasons and can always provide an alibi, if need be.

I suppose it could be worse.  Some husbands go to the race track and gamble away all of their money while others find solace heading for the local bar after work. (Yes, I know, many wives, do these things too and, all seem to be perfectly content!)  But, for better or worse--and really it's all good--my husband seems to have a fixation with pea gravel and it is happening right under my nose and happily, with my approval.

A view from a different angle.  This fall and next spring will see the addition of deer resistant plants to surround this little patio.  Deer resistant-maybe in a perfect world, but here's hoping!!!

It always helps to have someone with a cast iron back and well-oiled knees to work in the garden.  That angel may be pretty but she's also heavy and we don't want to break her heart, among other things.

We use pea gravel in walkways, garden borders, our labyrinth and lavender beds to hold down weeds and give definition, color and texture change to the landscape plan. It is economical as well as nice looking for high traffic areas as well as garden beds filled with dense clay soil that can easily hold on to too much moisture for plants, like lavender, that call for dry roots, even though they do like a little drink of water, now and then.  Pea gravel allows the lavender roots a little more air and draws the sun down into the ground, then reflecting the light back up through the plant thereby encouraging healthy flower production.  It is also easy to walk on and knows it's place, by not falling out of walkways and spilling over ledges.

Working into the night.  This gives new meaning to "Honey, I won't be home for supper. I have to work late."

Not quite "midnight at the oasis" and there are no camels anywhere to be seen.  Just a few nosy devil deer,  as always, lurking about and waiting their turn to inspect the finished pea gravel path and patio after everyone has gone to bed.

When I think about it, even the prodigal son, seems to have been bitten by this bug called pea gravel, as I look back through the years where he helped spread the "love" throughout the property. I now realize that this is not just a passing fancy but a lifelong obsession and, dare I say it, I think it's genetic (running on the Rinek side--not my side of the family, to be sure) with no cure in sight.

No, dinner is NOT being served down here tonight!

I think I like this love affair with pea gravel.

Ahhhh welllll, since they like spreading pea gravel, I guess I just have to think up a few more garden projects for P.Lorenz to further explore his passion.  Hmmmmmmm, maybe somebody, should get a hold of peagravel911.com!

"Writing From The Heart"

We had the good fortune of hosting a group of dedicated women writers here at Blooming Hill, yesterday.  They were led by Lisa Colburn and Sue McCollum, both certified Amherst Writers who lead and facilitate, among other local to international writing programs, one called "Writing From The  Heart." I had attended this series of writing sessions a couple of years ago and really enjoyed it. What was every bit as nice, was that this group decided to visit Blooming Hill for some floral inspiration and thirteen wonderful women came to explore the gardens here and use the lavender, flowers and herbs as prompts to open their hearts, spur their creativity and write beautiful poetry and prose.  They came at 1:30 in the afternoon and sat as a group to share with each other their written observations, imaginings and memories.  After serving them tea, I joined in the closing session where we were "prompted" to write a short piece entitled "She Wore Flowers In Her Hair."

Having suffered from writer's block more times than I care to count, at any given time through years of writing and journaling, I surprised myself and wrote the following entry in only10 minutes.  While I was reading it to the group, I was even more surprised to find myself getting a bit emotional over this little patch of land I call home.  I've always thought I had sort of a love-hate relationship with this place--and sometimes, the grass really does look greener anywhere else but here, as in when I'm weeding, it's hate but, when I'm picking the flowers and savoring the sights of beautiful lavender, it's love. Yesterday, I found out that it really is all about blooming where I am planted and truly appreciating the beautiful surroundings of Blooming Hill.  So, whether you think the following passage is good, bad or you are totally indifferent to it, this is what I wrote....

"She Wore Flowers In Her hair"

Although she really was not aware of them and, you really can't see them, they are there, alright, as she wore flowers in hair.  They came from her garden she tends day in and day out--getting down on her knees to till, weed, water and dig.  Pulling a plant here and planting one there, she reached for the relentless weeds, spent leaves and broken twigs elbowing their way through the blooms and, as she reached into the tangle, her head touched every leaf and petal that she passed.  Or, did they touch her? She hoped they loved her as much as she loved them and, if they don't, she prefers to think that they do, faithful as they are, returning year after year while calling this place home just as she does.

Even as this growing season draws slowly to it's inevitable close, the zinnias and dahlias remain steadfast while the roses and asters are valiant in their battle against powdery mildew and shifty snails.  The geraniums will prevail until the first frost and the mums arrive to bolster every flower's courage.  The lavender, oh, the lavender will also bloom until the frost, if only a little, as their season was before high summer arrived, but that is their calling. In the meantime, the sun will rise and fall and rise over and over and she will walk through the garden everyday, in good weather and bad, pulling and planting and picking and she will wear flowers in her hair and in her heart.

            It is my hope that you, too have a flower(s) to wear in your hair and in your heart!.