Saturday, September 17, 2011

Saturday, September 17th, 2011

  1. The Witch's ball finally hangs in the dining room window
      and as the Witch gazes through its magical blueness
she begins to feel more and more
that it is time
 to park her broom
and take up permanent residence.

Time to shake away
the cobwebs of uncertainty
and unsettledness.

Turn to her knitting
and learn once again the intricacies of
the Long Tail Cast On

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

ABC Wednesday
September 13th, 2011

I is the letter for this week.

I is for Iris, and although it is not the least bit original I hope you might enjoy this picture of an Enchanting Iris from the June Garden.

Since Iris is the Greek goddess for the Messenger of Love, her sacred flower is considered the symbol of communication and messages.  

Greek men would often plant an iris on the graves of their beloved women as a tribute to the goddess Iris, whose duty it was to take the souls of women to the Elysian fields.

For more interpretations of the letter I  click here to visit ABC Wednesday.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

September 12th, 2011

I wait impatiently for the days to cool, for the garden to show signs of sleepiness as it gets ready for bed -  but summer lingers on.  By mid-morning it is too warm to be out in the garden, and by late afternoon, when there should be a cool September breeze to make happy hour on the verandah a welcome break it is still and heavy - no lightness in the air that speaks to one of September when the garden catches its breath and the delphinium and the roses send forth blooms that rival suimmer's show.

Usually, by this time in September the Aster displays tentative shaggy flowers, while all over the dark green bush buds promise a glorious tribute to fall later in the month, but this year both they and the 'mums are content  to graciously bide their time while summer flowers give us one last tender retrospect.

We wait for cool mornings, mild afternoons and early evenings to refresh the spirit that laboured under August's heat.

I go up the hill to the garden we left in mid summer and dig up bits of lavender, the Christmas rose and the purple hellebore that is just now coming into bloom.  I have replanted the astilbe and this week I will cut back the peonies, - the white ones and the pink ones and the brilliant red - and bring them to plant in the long raised bed in the back garden.  And then I will go to the nursery and hopefully find an Abraham Darby and a Prairie Princess and a white Winchester Cathedral to plant between the peonies and delphiniums.  And at the back, against the fence, we will plant the heritage sweetpeas and some sunflowers, and place the lady fountain somewhere amidst the shade with some forget-me-nots around her feet.

And then I will be able to get my knitting out, and finally feel at home and contented.