A Very "Fair" Weekend

If you happened to be rambling down country roads in far Western Loudoun County this past weekend, chances are you may have meandered by the Bluemont Fair and could not resist stopping to take in the sights and sounds of this historic and beautiful village. Crystal blue skies, soft breezes, bright sunshine, country music, cotton candy, lemonade, llamas and lots of home-style cookin' coupled with beautiful crafts and an old-fashioned flea market added up to a perfect day in the foothills of the Blue Ridge.  At least, that's how I enjoyed my weekend.

As a vendor at the fair, selling my home-grown lavender and everlastings from the garden, Peter's eucalyptus wreaths and folk art paintings of Loudoun Towns as well as many other crafts, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, once again, seeing my neighbors and meeting new friends who all have an interest in preserving this country way of life while living in a fast-paced modern world.  Above is a picture of my booth just before the fair opened on Saturday morning--colorful yet peaceful and everything made with love and care. I thought it was one of the prettiest booths we've ever set up.

Along with our Blooming Hill Craft Booth, Peter was ambitious enough to man a second one selling some antiques and garden statuary at the other end of town where he could watch the passersby wander through a farm market, petting zoo and antique cars and tractors.  Everyone was just a bit laid back, even if they didn't stop for the wine tastings.  They were just having a good time. 

Peter's booth neighbor, Joan, who I know through my Night Bloomers Garden Club, brought cookies to share with him on Sunday, which made his weekend all the more sweeter.  He has all of the luck...

As for me, well, my friend Tammy acquainted herself with running a craft booth by bringing some of her own very sweet and intricately made little handbags to sell at my booth.  Even though this was her first time as a craft vendor, she was also a seasoned professional at meeting and greeting customers and selling the purses she has put her heart and soul into.  I think, between the two of us, we probably new at least half of the fair visitors--helps to be a local around here.  The other half became our friends by the time they left the Blooming Hill booth.  I always love hearing from the people who come into the booth, how they were drawn in by the scent of lavender, mint, eucalyptus, lemon and rose.  One french woman told me how the sight of lavender and it's aroma in my booth reminded her of her childhood in Provence and the home where her parents still live.  What a wonderful compliment.  She made me feel a little homesick for Provence as well and I haven't even been there...yet!  Note to self...tell Peter that we are going!...sometime soon, I hope.

And then there was Peter's picture of this beautiful town of Bluemont, Virginia which was a highlight in both of our booths this past weekend.  I think it attracted as many fair visitors into our booths as the lovely lavender and the showy eucalyptus wreaths.  It depicts 28 historic homes and buildings throughout the village including period horse carriages and even a country wedding.  Village old-timers and new transplants all came to ooohhhh and aaaahhh over his glimpse of Americana.

Bluemont is situated on a narrow and winding road that climbs up through a mountain pass which opens up to a vista of rolling hills and valleys that once led settlers to the west. Later, it was known as a resort town for busy Washingtonians during  the Victorian era.  I think, in many ways neighbors and visitors, alike, would tell you Bluemont is still a bit of a resort to live in.  And, on the third weekend, each September for forty-one years now, people come to visit here, where neighbors meet neighbors and even the strangers are friendly and the sun shines down on this quaint little town.

36th Annual Orange Street Fair

It was another busy fair weekend for Peter and me as we traveled down country roads, with the rolling vistas of the Blue Ridge, off to the west of us all of the way to the historic town of Orange, Virginia where we set up our garden wares and crafts to sell at the 36th Annual Orange Street Fair. Packed with history, I thought this lovely, old farming and railroad town would have a better story for how the name Orange came about but, not really.  According to Wikipedia, Orange was founded in the 1700's and named after William lll of Orange, a British King, way back when...

This quaint farming town sits among the rolling Virginia countryside and has welcomed visitors for more than a few centuries now, yet it reminds me of a town that is steadfastly holding on to its mid-20th Century character and charm.  Residents and visitors, alike, came out to honor the somber anniversary of this historic day in American History, September 11, as well as celebrate the beginning of the fall harvest that area farmers are preparing for in the days to come. The weather was glorious and marked the beginning stages of autumnal color--perfect for a fall street festival!

Municipal organizations, Orange County High School groups and charities from the American Legion to the local chapter of  Hospice were out to make their presence known along with many different craft and food vendors.  Somewhere around 10,000 fair patrons made their way down the street meandering through booths and antique shops and looking for a special find. I think most of them had an ice cream cone in their hand while taking in the sights of the day.

As for Peter and me, well, we too busy to look around much and the day went fast. By 5pm, we were tired but happy as we had made many new friends who live in this lovely town and stopped by to peruse our booth and take a gander at our tiny gurgling fountain, among other things.  Both dogs and children took turns dipping their tongues and hands into the cool water while mothers picked out bundles of be-ribboned lavender, plump pomanders, pretty pictures and wonderful wreaths.  At one point both Peter and a woman rushed to stop a toddler from taking a drink himself from the fountain after watching an affable Golden Retriever take his turn.  How I wish I had a picture of that!  Everyone who stepped under our canopy told us how they cold smell the intertwined fragrance of lavender, rose, mint and eucalyptus from far down the street, setting them on their path into Blooming Hill's Booth.  How perfectly delightful!

Scented geraniums and rosemary plants along with Swedish Ivy's were big sellers at the fair.  Thank goodness I planned ahead and made several cuttings of these to have at future fairs as they are wonderful plants to bring inside to grace a sunny window or table during the winter months.  Our booth matched the sunny colors of the late summer season and encouraged visitors to linger.

It was a wonderful day to spend in this lovely and friendly town where everything seemed to be, as my mother-in-law, Lynn would say, "In apple pie order." As we drove away, just after 6pm, the rain clouds began to gather, and hopefully, Orange, Virginia  received some much needed rain as we did also here in Philomont late into the evening, long after we returned home.  We'll be going back again next year to be in the Orange Street Fair and perhaps, even sooner than next September.  The surrounding area is full of history and lore from American Indians and the Civil War to American Presidents and colonial mansions.  It's certainly a Virginia town to see.

Colorful Country Road Blend

My early morning walks with Tucker afford me time to gather my thoughts and take stock in the day ahead as well as consider the bounty of the local countryside. I am so blessed to breathe in the peace and harmony that these unpaved roads have to offer--from neighbors driving slowly by and stopping, just for a moment, to share their latest news, to watching the seasonal colors change, everyday, from dusty shades of burnished browns and silver grays to newborn pinks and chartreuse greens and later to majentas, yellows and mossy greens that finally give way to autumn's rich golds, hunter greens and bronzes before turning, once again to silver grays and burnished browns. 

Here, we find ourselves in the bright to muted transitional phase from summer to fall.  These days, even with little rain having been in the forecast, Mother Nature's colors have been more subtle but no less beautiful.  The warmth of the sun and the moisture in the air have created a lively blend of late summer settings that are too lovely to pass by.

Roadside vignettes of  bountiful nuts, acorns and pine cones tucked under the first of the freshly fallen leaves rest along the pathways and beckon me to gather some of these seeds for my own autumnal blend of potpourri.  Everyday lately, Tucker and I spy squirrels busily gathering perfect pine cones along with green-tinged acorns and rough-hewn hickory nuts.  Their pace at collecting seems frantic--maybe they know something the weather forecasters don't and this hottest of hot summers will end sooner than we think.  There is still plenty of natural treasure for the local wildlife and me to share and, I think, still plenty of time before the first hint of the colder weather makes it's "Fall Debut" here in Philomont. .  But that doesn't seem to stop the squirrels from stock piling their caches of acorns and nuts.   Thank goodness for the sheer abundance of them as well  magnolia pods and rose hips, wild mint and scented geraniums. All wonderful ingredients for my country road potpourri.


Oh-ohh...those sweet-faced "Devil Deer" are cautiously making their way back into my view, eying some of the same things the squirrels and I are both already vying for.  Ahh, those cunning "Devil Deer."  I have no intentions of sharing with them my country road potpourri.  They'll just have to collect their own mix of magical magnolia pods, "piney" seeds and fragrant rose hips, preferably on another person's property but, I don't think I'll be that lucky.  Just to be on the safe side, I think I'll stash my autumnal blend, while I'm jazzing up the colors and mixing up the textures, in the garage where the "Devil Deer," around here, still fear to tread...

I'm combining these blissful little nuggets from Mother Nature to create my own "Colorful Country Road Blend" to highlight and brighten my indoor tables with the shine that seems to accent  golden autumn days and pay homage to this glorious late summer season...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've spray-painted baby pine cones from Hemlock trees, star magnolia pods, hickory nuts and acorns then added them to fuzzy pussy willow catkins, dip-dyed eucalyptus leaves and even added some orange brushed pumpkin-like spindle berries mixed in with aromatic Wild Mountain Mint leaves and Lemon Balm leaves for a fragrant forestry experience.

Then I started layering each group of cones and nuts and leaves one on top of the other and my "Colorful Country Road Blend" started taking shape as I began to tweak the color and fine-tune the texture with each additional handful.

All of it came to together in a whimsical combination of Autumn shine that looks enchanting set in a pretty bowl on a bedside table or complimenting a favorite stack of vintage books that lay on the living room coffee table. Bronze intertwined with silver and gold, complimented with mossy green and deep red, showing off the minty-sage green of dried and scented leaves with a pop of orange for cheerfulness.  I love the way it turned out.

Subtle hints of pine and lemon, mint and eucalyptus will blend with and freshen a favorite potpourri or it can stand all by itself, looking pretty as a picture and smelling fresh, like a crisp Fall day in the foothills of the Blue Ridge.  Close your eyes and breathe..you are on a country road with a friendly black lab named Tucker, trotting at your side, to keep you company...I'm already there!

Zinnia--The "Cinderella" of the Garden

"Sing a song of seasons!  Something bright in all!  Flowers in the summer, fires in the fall."  This short poem by R.L. Stevenson sums up the changing landscape as August fades away and September prepares take it's turn at the helm in the days ahead.  Summer's bounty is not yet ready to let go and the vibrant colors of it's peak begin to mellow as we loose over two minutes of daylight each day since the solstice way back in June.

This might be a sad thing if it weren't for zinnias, dubbed by the Victorian Age as the "Cinderella of the Garden," with their vivacious "flirtyness" wrapped up in a profuse rainbow of colors and sizes.  Butterflies flock to them.  Bumble Bees adore them and humans, well, we grow them for the same reasons, too.

I think that I would dearly miss their stately presence, especially the tall 'Zinnia Elegans' with long graceful branches that seem to reach out everywhere and touch everything close to them in my gardens.  Zinnias support flower vines, gladly fill space that other flowers cannot begin to accomplish and cheerfully hold on to their color even as the sun wanes and the nights grow a bit cooler, until the first frost comes along and zinnias bid "adieu" to the garden.  I'll save zinnia seeds and buy some, too, for next year when I drop them in the soil wherever I see fit to grow another pretty zinnia.

The genus, Zinnia is a member of the Sunflower Family (Asteracaea) and it's absence in our gardens symbolize just that in the language of flowers, being associated with thoughts of absent friends and loved ones.  Zinnias represent goodness, lasting affection and daily remembrance, too.  Any one of us can fondly recall picking zinnias in our grandparents garden as well as seeing bouquets of them brightening up our mother's kitchen table.  How fitting for a flower that is so easy to grow, yet does not have a fleeting presence in our gardens but politely takes up residence and encourages those around it to stay and chat awhile, perhaps over the garden gate.  There is not one stitch of jealousy to be found in a zinnia who only wants to compliment and show off its surroundings with sentiments that radiate fondness and friendliness making this popular heirloom a modern garden standard as well.  Along with each color sprouts another nuance of this bodacious mid to late summer bloomer; yellow for daily remembrance, white for goodness, red (my favorite) for constancy and magenta for love and affection.  I'm sure the list of its meanings grows as the pinwheel of zinnia colors expands.

Originally, zinnias were native to Mexico. They were discovered by Spanish explorers who brought them back to Spain and the rest of Europe. However, the zinnias of that time were not the ruffled beauties they are today.  Rather, they were dull and considered homely.  In, fact the Mayans called them "mal de ojos"  which means "eyesores."  This feeling was also shared by most Europeans of the time who dubbed zinnias "everybody's flower" or "poorhouse flower."  A German scientist and botanist by the name of Johann Zinn, who lived in the 1700's and whose hobby was breeding wildflowers, is credited with the first steps in transforming this cast-away weed into the pretty princess-like bloom that now graces flower beds and boarders everywhere.  Hence, zinnia's common name, "Cinderella of the Garden," is a Cinderella story...complete with a happy ending for us all!

Pretty Thumbelina "Persian Carpet"

Fair Zinnia
There are those, I suppose, 
  who prefer to think of zinnias as stout, 
  standing stiff and stoic in their garden boarders but, 
I prefer to picture zinnias as garden fairies' favorites.
  frolicking gaily in their green and fancy skirts,
  with their free-flowing "moppy" heads swaying in the wind.
Gathering memories to hold fast to
  when cold days destined, are here and
  Autumn's frost sends the zinnias away,
Until they reappear
  on a mid-summer's day.
                                 (by me, Cyndie
                                         August, 2010)

                                    



 

White House Roots

This past June, Peter brought home this lovely Swedish Ivy plant given to him by a co-worker and  proudly announced that this plant had it's roots firmly entrenched in the annals of White House history.  "Sure," I replied rather flatly, "Probably about as much as my Swedish grandparents, Helga and Olaf, did."  However, he then promptly presented to me an article about this plant that was published in Time Magazine all of the way back in 1984.

President Ronald Reagan and some of his staff pictured in the Time Magazine article,

It begins by saying, "Presidents may come and go, but Swedish Ivy stays." In the picture, (just above) you can see a Swedish Ivy plant perched perfectly on the mantle, right there, in the Oval Office of the President of the United States of America.  The article goes on to say that this particular ivy plant was given to President Kennedy, in 1961, by the Irish Ambassador to the U.S. (at the time) as a token of affection between the people of our two countries and, in 1984, Ray Cave, the managing editor of Time, featured it in the magazine.  If you are interested in reading the actual article pictured here, go to:
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0.9171.950221.00.html.

I'm thinking, as a matter of practicality, when it comes to indoor houseplants being presented as gifts to heads of state, Irish Shamrocks and even Irish Bells would not do because as they are clearly meant to be grown outdoors in the perennial and annual borders of the White House gardens, where say, an American president may not spend a lot of his time.  Come to think of it, Swedes are a hardy people living way up there near the Arctic Circle and this plant, attributed to them, has to be just as hardy and long-living.  The plant, or at least it's offspring cutting in the magazine picture above, has now graced the Oval Office for almost 50 years.

Having grown up in a Swedish household and honoring my own roots, I suddenly had a renewed interest in this durable houseplant that graces so many homes and offices, for that matter, around the world.  I realized, I now have  a piece of living history right here in my own home.  Now, before you get as excited as I was when Peter gave it to me, back in June, thinking for a brief moment that I had the actual plant, it is not the actual plant.  That, as I understand it, still sits there in the Oval Office but my plant is an actual cutting from that plant and, as the true mother plant grows in the White house, so do the huge number of cuttings given away by who I imagine to be various White House Staffers lucky enough to actually get a piece of the "plant pie," so to speak, and then pass it along to fortunate friends and family. Peter's office friend and co-worker, Nick, apparently received a cutting and a copy of the article from a friend through a friend, and so on and so forth, then passed it on to Peter to give to me.  How's that for coincidence, or as I prefer to think of it, providence. A piece of Swedish Ivy which has posed in countless official White House pictures and has listened in on even more historic meetings between world leaders and dignitaries has ended up in my home...pretty cool!

Not one to waste an opportunity, I made cuttings at the beginning of July and put them in a pretty, clear-glass bowl, in order to root, which I then placed on a table near a sunny window in my living room. Swedish Ivy, which really isn't Swedish but rather a native of Australia, earned its name because it gained popularity in Sweden during Victorian times as an indoor houseplant. Nor is Swedish Ivy really an ivy (Hedera spp.) because its characteristics do not include using its roots to cling to walls and surfaces.  It belongs to the mint (Lamiaceae spp.) family because of its lush, fast growing foliage.  It is also extremely easy to root from cuttings placed in water.  As long as you give these cuttings ample room in a container of clean water so they can stay healthy, it will reward you with plenty of healthy roots in return and then the cuttings can be planted in potting soil and keep on flourishing. Also, every time a cutting is made, two more shoots will appear from that stem. Swedish Ivy is easy to care for and loves sun but keep in mind that it likes to dry out completely between watering.

 
Once they were potted up, all of these pretty little babies from my Oval Office Swedish Ivy then spent time in the greenhouse until the summer sun and heat forced me to relocate them outside to a semi-shady corner nook at the back of the house.  They seemed very happy to spend their "summer session" in the protective shelter of the heat pump.

Here they are, near the end of August, just about ready to go to market along with the story that speaks of their authenticity.  The Time's Ray Cave, back in 1984,  had a novel idea when he thought about how the the White House changes with the arrival of each new administration.  He noticed how almost everything, from rugs and upholstery to paintings, is always matched to a President's taste.  However, no matter who is President, the Swedish Ivy plant on the Oval Office fireplace mantle seems to be a permanent fixture.  Now that's attention to detail!



President Reagan and his staff in 1983 are pictured above in the article, originally published in 1984, at the top of this blog entry. The writer of that article closes by saying that Reagan questioned why Time was so preoccupied with the Swedish Ivy?  With all that's going on in the world, then and now, perhaps you think so, too.  However, it's nice to know that maybe, just once in a while, no matter what side of the political fence you plant your garden, the important thing is that you plant a garden and let it grow and thrive so, in the end, we all have something as simple as a plant to positively link us together by passing it along...

My piece of the White House Oval Office perched perfectly on the stairway landing in the front vestibule of my home welcoming visitors!