The blog of Canadian author Cynthia Reyes
The peonies are blooming in different shades and varieties. A bit late here in the sticks, but it’s been a splendi-florous week.
Yes, those are the legs of an insect in the centre — it didn’t move so maybe it’s asleep, as this was early morning.
Happy Juneteenth and I wish you a lovely weekend,
Cynthia.
I remember the day when CBC Radio host Shelagh Rogers and her colleagues Jacqueline and Erin came to interview me at our old farmhouse on the northern edge of Toronto.
It was summer 2014 and a day like the one pictured on the cover of Twigs in My Hair.
My first book, A Good Home, had been recently published, and I, who had interviewed hundreds of people on television, was terrified. Of forgetting, of stuttering, of other painful things resulting from a car accident.
Wise woman that she is, Shelagh asked me to stroll with her around the gardens before the interview.
My friend Marilyn Mirabelli prepared tea for everyone. “Everything goes better with a cup of tea,” she said, trying to calm my anxiety.
The interview complete, we sat outside and enjoyed ourselves. Marilyn regaled us with stories about the history of the afternoon tea tradition in Britain. We heard names like Queen Victoria and Anna Russell, Duchess of Bedford.
I remember the tea party, but almost nothing of the interview.
Much later, I remembered this: Shelagh asked if I was writing a sequel. I said I was terrified of writing a sequel because I’d have to revisit my journals — and that was too painful.
No way. I’d come too far to go back.
Instead, I said, I was working on something fun — a gardening book! It was, in fact, almost complete.
But life went and did what life does.
Something unexpected happened. It led to the writing of An Honest House, the sequel I had dreaded.
It went on to win an award and much critical acclaim for its raw honesty. But writing it traumatized me. The gardening book was shelved and forgotten.
Now, five years after I first wrote that gardening memoir, I look at the cover and feel a bunch of differing emotions.
I see memories everywhere in this book cover. Most are good, a few are painful, and all in their own way, are precious.
Almost every object you see has meaning for us.
Look closely at the boxwood semi-circle behind the round garden bed.
Now look at the biggest of the boxwoods, given to us in the 1980’s by a revered gardening teacher, Donald Moore. You’ll meet him – and the boxwood — when you read Twigs in My Hair.
Of course, I should apologize to Shelagh Rogers for misleading her, and for the book being years late. But hey! We finally got it done!
Our gardens are usually lovely because my husband and I take good care of them.
But there’s another reason we’re pleased: nothing we add costs us much. Some gardening tips to share:
Many perennial plants in our garden were bought in late June or early July. Remember: water generously that first summer. Your plants should thrive and return even stronger in subsequent years.
Hosta, hydrangea, phlox, bee balm — most perennials, in fact — may be divided within 2 to 4 years of planting, instantly creating more mature plants for other spaces in your garden. We got these green-and-white hosta from our neighbours’ garden and have divided them repeatedly in subsequent years.
If you have a big anniversary and friends ask “What would you really like?”, suggest gift certificates from one centrally-located and reputable nursery. I never remember this until it’s too late. But with a few certificates, you could get a shrub, a tree, or even garden furniture.
We had beautiful clematis plants at the farmhouse garden. Most were straggly-looking at the garden-centre, so we negotiated, got great deals and loved them back to health.
One of our most cherished pieces was a gift from friends: a cedar bench made especially for us. We’ve lived in three homes since then, and it always comes along.
Our metal tables were old and rusty. Blue paint brought them back to life.
We never wanted a pool. But the house-with-the-pool cost much less than the houses-that-had-no-pool. So we bought it. Then a neighbour gave us his old paving stones; my husband created another paved area for seating.
I’d like a certain kind of chaises longues for my garden, but cannot afford them. So every spring in the last three years, I’ve bought one of these zero-gravity loungers. Solid and durable, each costs about one tenth of the chair I’d like and is very comfortable too! Happy saving to you!
My favourite photographer Hamlin Grange took these pictures of our garden, which is still thriving in mid-September.
Of course, he complains — like a diva: “That’s not even my best work!” But I love these pix, so I’m sharing them. Here goes:
We are grateful to have inherited a host of phlox from previous owners — 6 different shades in all.
(I wanted to say “a flock of phlox”, but it doesn’t quite work, does it?)
They, and this special shrub (below) from our friend Les, bloom in late summer and attract bees and butterflies.
(Perhaps “flock” would work better here? “A flock of bees and butterflies!”)
There’s fragrant hosta, rudbeckia and other stuff too.
It’s a blessing to have a blooming garden this late in the Canadian summer! The weather has been mild — call it summer in September — and we are grateful.
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All photos are by Hamlin Grange.
Cynthia Reyes 