Fine ceramics for your table, kitchen and garden produced in Memphis, Tennessee
Fine ceramics for your table, kitchen and garden produced in Memphis, Tennessee
1:52
This year I’m changing the format of this project. Each month I will have four arrangements in one vase style. January’s vase is the simple long-necked bud vase, which I make in a range of colors, including indigo. This glaze is a work in progress, varying in intensity like indigo dye. Here I have a single forced paperwhite narcissus stem, the only blossoms I have after single digit temperatures over Christmas. Usually I have a wealth of camellias, early narcissus, winter honeysuckle, and other winter-blooming shrubs to play with. I covered my smaller camellias and hope to have blossoms from them, but honestly I am more concerned with plant health than this year’s blossoms.
2:52
Thank goodness for forced bulbs! All across my region gardeners are mourning their poor burned winter-interest shrubs and annuals. Last spring I tucked several pots of forced bulbs aside, intending to plant them in the garden but never got to it. I brought them inside into a cool but bright space and they are beginning to bloom! This blue/purple hyacinth pot is in my kitchen and scents the entire house. This small stem in my long-necked bud vase will go live in my bedroom this week. If you don’t coax spring bulbs into winter bloom yourself, it is well worth a weekly $10-15 at the grocery store for some winter cheer.
3:52
Very early this week I gazed over my winter-burned garden and heaved a great sigh. Things are different than I imagined they would be. This is not forever, but I have very little blooming. I have perhaps a dozen pansies and violas alive out of the four flats I planted in October and November, and very few of them are blooming. I was delighted to see that some of the baby. camellias I’d wrapped were in bud, so I went inside and threw a dozen of these diminutive bud vases, a mini version of the January vase, to highlight these truly precious small blossoms. Here is one small fragrant blossom, 2” across. Camellia yuhsiensis is one I bought a few years ago from a specialty nursery. It arrived as a twig in a 4” pot and I baby it. I was delighted that it bloomed last year. This blossom is a gift. It should eventually grow into an 8’ shrub.
4:52
Yesterday while I was walking with the puppy in the back garden and inspecting the freeze damage (I will be replacing shrubs this year and moving to natives rather than ornamentals in some cases), I noticed the first hellebore blossom peeking up out of the dead foliage. This hellebore is one that was given to me as a wedding and housewarming gift by a gardener friend of my late mother in law. Many of the perennials have died out over the last twenty years, but my daylilies and hellebores persist and bring joy. Hellebores are glorious flowers are some of the newer varieties are just stunning. They can be difficult to use in arrangements unless you cut them after the seed heads are mature (here you see the pollen covered anthers of a young flower) or you condition them stems. I do this by scoring the length of the stem with a sharp knife, cutting the bottom of the stem at a sharp angle, and soaking the entire stem in cold water for an hour or so before I pop the blossom into a vase or add to an arrangement. I’ve had mature stems last for weeks and younger blossoms for up to a week using this method.
5:52
The delight of snowdrops! Every year I fret that they’ve disappeared (I planted some in a container once and they disappeared, perhaps the bulbs rotted because the container was completely empty when I tipped it to see what happened) and they surprise me a week or so after the other patches that I know of locally have begun to bloom. I also forget that they open and close with the light- today is very dark and gloomy so they are closed, nodding their heads sleepily in this indigo mini bud vase. .
6:52
On Friday, every one of these flowers was coated in ice. I clipped them Saturday, popped them in a pitcher of warm water, and woke to blossoms on Sunday. I’m so grateful to be out of that cold and icy week. Larissa and I have been working on replenishing our supply of these handbuilt bricks over the last few weeks. They are perfect for branches, bulbs, roses, tulips. More to come this month!
7:52
JOY! Daffodil season has begun! The majorityof these bulbs are from my mother, who is a daffodil collector. She lives outside of Memphis and has colder temps than I do, so many of the daffs from Louisiana and Mississippi come to live at my house, like the yellow-cupped “paperwhite” from Natchez and the campernelle jonquil with grass-like foliage. I have popped these and a few others into one of my round bricks for an easy arrangement.
8:52
Back to my blue and white love, and in one of my favorite bricks. Last year we discovered that our do-everything clay body suddenly would not do everything. I could no longer make this form, one I loved making and using. I switched clays right before the holidays and found that we could again make this pleasingly curved form. I chose early hyacinths and white quince from my garden and some foraged wild plum from a tree that had fallen but blooms regardless. It felt like a good life lesson.
9:52
Though it is still February and much of the country is covered in snow, Spring has landed in Memphis. I know we will have at least one more cold spell (we are in one this weekend), but the trees are blooming, all of the daffs are up, tulips are starting, and everything is greening up. In this last flower brick for February I have picked a variety of daffodils, from miniature jonquillas to the largest King Alfred types, gathered white hellebores, white quince that’s still going strong, and the first Carolina Jessamine, a native evergreen vine, that’s blooming on my fence. I have tucked them all into one of the rose printed horizontal flower bricks I designed a few years ago and am happily making again.
10:52
In Memphis, we always joke that if you don’t like the weather, just wait 10 minutes and it will change. Looking back at my “on this day” photos, we’ve had snow, we’ve had driving rain, lots of daffodils, but never ever tulips. I had planned to have tulipieres in April, because that’s typically the season for them, but when my dear flower farmer friend Marisa began harvesting tulips this week, I knew it was time. In this modern ironstone tulipiere I have placed Marisa’s beautiful tulips (because mine aren’t up yet- I planted them late), summer snowflake (leucojum), and the prunings (only suckers or small crossing stems) of redbud and cherry trees which grow in my neighborhood park.
I make the tulipieres in many variations and I’m excited to see what comes this month and how I can use the different forms to highlight not just tulips, but everything in my spring garden.
11:52
My first two tulips- a white and a white and green variety, plus my favorite daffodil, Thalia, in abundance. There are also a few poeticus, twin sisters, and a mini called minnow. I added a few fiddleheads from my rapidly emerging Southern Shield fern and some maidenhair fronds in the back. All of these are tucked into my very favorite tulipiere, made of marbled clay we make in the studio from our scraps of printed slabs. After our December deep freeze, the late winter has been exceptionally warm and everything is coming up at the same time. This will be an interesting gardening year!
12:52
My tulips are shyly beginning their show (because I planted them very very late this year) but my minor bulbs and my sweet neighbor’s lilac inspired this week’s flowers. I have let grape hyacinth (muscari) naturalize in what’s left of my front lawn and as my small collection of pale blue Valerie Finnis muscari multiplies, I’ll toss the bulbs out in the lawn to join them. Ipheion, the small star-shaped flower, is an ephemeral minor bulb that smells of onions. My wood hyacinth is also beginning to bloom, and that lilac is just divine. I threw several new tulipieres a few weeks ago, including this 4” mini with pierced openings and four small spouts. All of the tulipieres are together, linked above.
13:52
My tulips are awake for the last week of my tulipiere month! Truly, tulipieres are for all flowers, but I’m delighted to have home-grown tulips in the vase I created especially for them. This vase is 5.5” tall and 5” across. I created four spouts, effectively giving this round vase corners (I mirrored the base to give it a more geometric look), with four additional piercings and a center space to add more blossoms. I have just one of these available but hope to add more to my shop as spring advances.
14:52
The arrival of these tiny jonquilla Baby Moon means the end of daffodil season has come. These are one of my favorites, tiny (each blossom is the size of a nickle), incredibly fragrant, and brightest golden yellow, with 3-5 blossoms on each stem. I tucked a half-dozen stems into one of my new Nolan amphorae, which has a longer, more narrow neck and angular handles than my first amphorae. I just pulled a batch of glossy minis out of the kiln when I discovered a little cache of them in my glazing room.
15:52
Alleluia, Alleluia! Easter flowers from my garden. I started with Solomon’s Seal and hellebores, adding the last narcissus and tulips, an early iris, baptisia “Carolina Moonlight”, the star jasmine I replaced a few weeks ago, sweet smelling viburnum, and white lychinis (ragged robin, looks like white muppet hair). They are in a handled flower bowl with a large cage frog.
16:52
A dark, moody arrangement for one of my favorite vases. Last year my friend Marisa gave me a cluster of beautiful nearly black tulips which I promptly displayed in this vase, which was a brand new form and a brand new glaze. I didn’t have the best year for tulips and though I planted a dozen black tulips (though too late), I only got one bloom. I picked it, knowing I wanted it in this vase, and waited for inspiration to strike. Purple is not usually my preferred color, though it pops up here and there in my garden. This rose, vielchenblau, is a once-blooming rambler that was mislabeled when I bought it. It is now enormous, prolific, disease free, and the bees and butterflies love it. Similarly, this dark purple columbine seems to have planted itself and surprised me last year, appearing under my garden bench. The colony is growing. I love the foliage, small native bees love it, and the bloom time is a few short weeks. I added a few silver/purple fronds of Japanese painted fern to fill out this dramatic grouping. I have three of these vases in stock in black, plus my full range of other glazes.
17:52
I have been picking my white/blush/cream roses all week in varying stages and stashing them (and the very last twin sisters daffodils) in my refrigerator because I knew we were expecting storms late week. It was an absolute joy to be met with a clutch of roses every time I opened the fridge. Here are climbing Icebeg (pure white) and an unnamed floribunda I rescued from someone’s trash pile (yes really). The warm white is climbing sombreuil (also known as colonial white). Also sold as white but distinctly pink in bud is a Austin rose Desdemona and the more golden Tranquility, both of which I bought during the lockdown part of the pandemic when I dug up and reimagined my garden as a form of therapy. I pulled in some blue tradescatia (spiderwort) and silvery blue catnip. They are in my tall handled modern ironstone urn vase.
18:52
A series of strong storms did a bit of damage to my peonies, so I clipped them and floated them in this low serving bowl I pulled from my studio shelves. Many flowers, from camellias, peonies, gardenias, and magnolias, last longer when floated than when in a traditional vase. I’m enjoying this grouping on my coffee table (rain splattered dirt and all) this week.
19:52
Another new little series of bud vases making their debut. I love these little side handles. These come in at 6", 5", and 3.5" and are inspired by Phoenix Tail Chinese export porcelain vases. They are available in white satin and gloss and I made one single ebony vase to highlight the "black knight" scabiosa I bought from the @dixonmemphis plant sale to grow in my summer cutting garden.
20:52
Several years ago I bought an antique silver rose bowl with a metal grid top that I love to use for blowsy roses and peonies. I’ve been thinking on reproducing it for a long time and am close to what I’d imagined with this piece. It has a slight foot to elevate the form and I added a little side fluting to give the piece more interest. Many of my flower bowls have handles, but I left them off for this piece. I added a thrown ceramic frog, glazed in, to hold the stems. I pulled all of the pale blushy roses blooming- Belinda’s Blush, which I bought late last fall on last-ditch clearance and is just full of blossoms, DA Tranquility, Alnwick, and Wollerton Old Hall (which smells of licorice to me) , Perle, of course, and Eden. My white ranunculus are so big they almost look like roses. I made a little video of the arranging process on Instagram.
21:52
Though the first flush is at its end for my rambler and climing varieties, the roses continue to produce flowers at a pleasing rate. Earlier this week, knowing we’d have lots of rain that would shatter the English varieties, I clipped everything and popped them into this flower bowl I made several years ago. Decorated with hand painted stripes, it’s perfect for a casual summer arrangement. I have two versions of this bowl, porcelain and fitted with a ceramic frog- a stripe and abstract floral. They are perfect for casual garden clippings and farmers market poseys.
Roses here are Star of the Republic, Jude the Obscure, Maggie, Rose de Rescht, Lavender Lassie, Tranquility, Perle d’or, Climbing Iceberg, and an unnamed pink tea rose that is nearly always in bloom.
22:52
At long last, a goodly number of hydrangea bowls, a short form with glazed-in frog and side handles, are in my shop. This year, however, hydrangeas are few and far between. My annabelles, a native cultivar, are happy, the oakleafs are gorgeous, and my native lacecap hydrangeas are, frankly, happier than ever. The other blue or pink hydrangeas have died to the ground and may or may not bloom this year. As my favorite flower color is white, I’m content, as are the bees and other flying pollinators feeding happily from my garden hydrangeas. Here, hydrangea arborescens and a few happy queen anne’s lace, also a favorite of all things flying.
23:52
After a very busy week and an event-filled weekend I decided to keep things very simple for this week’s arrangement. My oak leaf hydrangeas have never flowered like they are this year and I’m enjoying them both in the house and in the garden, where they will keep their flower bracts all summer, eventually aging to a pink/green combination. Right now the plants are abuzz with bees and other pollinators, lighting up the shady portion of my garden and bringing me great pleasure. This simple Modern Ironstone vase is fitted with one of my ceramic frogs (sold separately) to hold just a handful of hydrangea stems. More Modern Ironstone vases to come.
24:52
A rainbow of summer color, a nod to how we can be beautiful together despite our differences.
Happy Pride Month.
(Salvias, roses, daylilies, hypericum, tradescantia, verbena, coneflower, ferns, scabiosa, hosta, in a handle-less blue hydrangea bowl.)
25:52
It’s been QUITE a year for lilies. My regal lilies came first (and early and smelled so very fantastic) and then my casa blanca lilies opened. These are the flowers I carried in my wedding and I’d wanted to grow them for years. Last year, 2022, was my first year with them and they made me happy. Every bulb bloomed. This year the flowers are easily 10” across with three to five blossoms per bulb. I picked several stems and tucked them into my largest ginger jar and have been enjoying them for a solid week. The perfume is immense (and possibly headache inducing if strong scents bother you- they woke me up one night- all white flowers are more fragrant at night to attract night polinators. I once had a night-blooming jasmine that I had to put out because the scent was so powerful that I couldn’t sleep). I can’t wait to see how they multiply in the coming years, and I’ll keep tucking them into this ginger jar. Joy!
26:52
This week saw the summer solstice- we are halfway through the year. On solstice day I walked through my garden and was delighted to find so very many of my roses blooming, brought on by plentiful rain and cooler temperatures. Nearly all of my english/Austin roses were in bloom, as were antique and modern cultivars. I was delighted to have a giant bowl full of roses to enjoy this week. The heat of summer has set in so I won’t see this bounty again for a white but it gave me great joy to fill one of my rose bowls with roses.
27:52
This week we have been hit hard by a heatwave. Many many flowers in my garden have just shriveled, despite watering. Others, however, thrive in the heat (as long as they get water. I chose from these tough and tropical plants that I use every year in my porch planters, and a few extras that are garden standouts.
Every year I dig up my beautiful blue plumbago to overwinter in my east-facing windows. They begin blooming for me in May and are knocked out through November. I recently bought a white version on clearance. They are tough tough summer annuals for us but will grow to the size of shrubs in zone 9 and above. I added white David phlox, a summer garden hero that takes full to part sun, and the sunny flowers of fennel, which is a perennial for me and attracts so many pollinators. All of these flowers are tucked, willy-nilly, into my low flower bowl. It measures roughly 11” across and comes with an affixed floral frog.
28:52
This week saw a major pink flush in my garden despite the intense heat. Purple coneflower, floribunda (bloom in clusters) roses, cosmos, phlox, begonias, all in shades of pink. The whites are phlox and kalimeris, or false aster.
I tucked all these into my mini knot vases, which come in a range of colors.
29:52
Last Sunday, when we returned from our trip one of my new gardenias was covered in blossoms. It was heavenly and reminded me of my sweet friend Dorothy Lee who owned a home called Ammadelle, where G and I spent our wedding night 23 years ago. Darling Dorothy Lee offered us the gift of a memorable refuge from all of the payback G was expecting from his bachelor pranks, and she filled our room with bowls of gardenia, which she charmingly called cape jasmine. She was a masterful gardener and I learned so much about antique shrubs and gracious hospitality from her. This little bowl was made for floating a cape jasmine blossom. It is a prototype, both in terms of form and to test a new glaze. I like both enough to repeat.
30:52
My first dahlia bloom, Fleurel, in a small round brick. I leave my dahlias in the ground every year, which is a risk, but they generally come back. While they start growing early, they have been slow to bloom this year (because I haven’t fertilized them, I’m sure). I’ve tried several new varieties this year but this plant is in its fourth year and is generally a strong producer. These small round bricks are thrown and hand-pierced. They make arranging a snap.
31:52
I’m just delighted to share both this flower and this vessel, the first of a new series of more sculptural (but still functional) vessels. The flower is gloriosa lily (gloriosa rothschildiana), a vining tropical perennial that grows from a finger-like tuber. It is magnificent and prolific and incredibly toxic so it lives in the front garden far away from my dogs. I cut a single stem and placed it in my first thrown and assembled and as-yet-nameless pedestaled brick/tulipiere. There will be more of these- once a week I throw the pedestal base and the brick form, let them rest, and then trim and assemble the following week. I’m having great fun playing with this new form.
32:52
My dahlia season has begun! This bright dahlia, Islander, is one of the dinner plate varieties that performs best for me. It is one of the first varieties that I grew, but I lost it when I tried to store it over winter. I do much better leaving them in ground. It is joined by Fleurel, another dinner plate variety that does well for me (and I have at least four of them, both in my blue and white border and in my cutting beds), the “callaway rose” a small-flowered cerise climber that is in constant bloom, Caldwell Pink rambler, also in near-constant bloom. They are all in my tall (approx. 6”) handled urn.
33:52
Team blue and white. When I pulled this indigo -glazed four-handled bowl from the kiln this week I knew I wanted to fill it with creamy flowers and plumbago. I began with a base of limelight hydrangea and fleurel dahlias, then added white dragonwing begonia, David phlox, white zinnias (I think these are polar bear), a few snips of thalictrum (meadow rue) foliage, and bits of sky blue plumbago. I used a vintage cage frog to anchor everything in place.
I just love this deeper blue and want to make this bowl in larger sizes. It came about during a studio play day.
34:52
Friday and Saturday mornings I went out, early, to clip roses, knowing that what I wanted most for the weekend (small goals) was to fill one of these new willow bricks with roses. We had a lovely cool spell this week and the roses all bloomed. Not all, but many. I was delighted to see and smell so many old and new favorites opening. I have more than 30 varieties in my garden. Not all are successful, but all are grown without pesticides or fertilizer besides an annual dose of espoma rose tone and a few scoops of compost throughout the season. They get black spot, but they are planted among other perennials in the garden and if they don’t work, they are replaced. I made this brick specifically to have a dual use. Right now I’m enjoying it with flowers (I made sure to keep one for myself). Early next year I’ll have them in collaboration with another vendor that I’m very excited about.
35:52
When I pulled this drippy deep copper celadon tulipiere from the kiln this week I knew I wanted to fill it with all of the pale, creamy flowers blooming in my garden as a visual antidote to the extreme heat we’ve been dealing with. It is full of roses (Lyda-the small, single-petaled rose-, Desdemona, Tranquility, Iceberg), french vanilla chrysanthemum, fleurel dahlia, white dragonwing begonia, white zinnias and early asters, and trailing, crisp white-edged ivy. This tulipiere is thrown, assembled, and altered porcelain, pierced with eight openings for flower arranging.
36:52
It’s the time of year when my garden arrangements get bigger and blowsier as the flowers flaunt their pollen and nectar, desperate to reproduce before winter. This week I chose white roses (iceberg, tranquility, desdemona), tuberose, my favorite sky-blue plumbago, a few spikes of garlic chive blossoms, and the lovey (but ill-mannered) sweet autumn clematis. This oval brick is one of the first brick shapes I experimented with in 2018. Instead of a gridded top the center is open and is surrounded by piercings to hold individual stems. It is 6.5” tall and is currently available in cobalt and celadon.
37:52
After a big, busy week I’ve kept my flowers simple. This vase is one I reach for often-I developed it a few years ago to hold simple bundles of flowers- lilacs, a short clutch of tulips, a few perfect roses. The heat is beginning to break and the garden is grateful. Here I gathered a few David Austin roses, Tranquility and Jude the Obscure (this is one of my most fragrant) and popped them into my speckled birds egg nosegay vase. It’s not much bigger than a coffee cup, perfect for a bedside table or powder room posey.
38:52
We are having out first glimpses of fall weather- lower humidity, lower temps, cooler nights. The garden has responded joyfully. This week I picked Islander dahlias, a bright warm pink, every rose blooming- all conveniently pinks, apricots, whites- anemone, and the lovely whispy white japanese aster. I tucked them into this pin-dot “farmers market” vase I created for my friend Marisa, who is an innovative flower grower and who has just opened a brand new shop for flowers, teaching, and gifts! She carries this vase in several colors. I’m just delighted to see how her business is growing!
39:52
I’ve been saving this vase for a while- I spent a Friday afternoon experimenting and didn’t quite think this piece made the grade on its own. I placed it on my banding wheel (a lazy susan on a pedestal), took my favorite calligraphy brush, and went to town drawing swoopy circles all over it. Now I love it, so much so that I’m doing this to every piece that doesn’t otherwise make the grade. I’ve been enjoying it filled with zinnias. More to come!
40:52
October, clearly, is to be all about dahlias. I’ve filled this sweet washed coral brick with white and vibrant pink dahlias (Fleurel, Otto’s thrill, Linda’s baby, Happy Single Kiss), roses (iceberg, unnamed floribunda, mutabilis), zinnias, and anemone. The wait through the hottest part of summer is worth it for this month of stunning flowers.
41:52
Fall brings a palette shift from my blue and white and green to warmer colors. The swamp sunflower’s bright blossoms weave their way through my deep periwinkle vitex, warm apricots, bronze, and corals pop up in late dahlias and roses, a surprise zinnia and cosmos are bold orange. Velvety mexican salvia’s deep purples are emerging. My fleurel dahlias are prolific this year- I leave my tubers in ground and this, tbeir fourth year, seems to be the best yet. I also included volunteer aster- the flowers are tiny and appear on cloud-like plants that pop up in the margins of my garden every year. They are covered in tiny bees and butterflies. I haven’t used these bricks in a while, so I pulled out this 5” speckled version and tucked the flowers in, one by one, playing with the colors and textures of early fall.
42:52
Something different today- a floral collaboration! I just returned from a quick trip to middle TN for a pop-up shop at Amy Montgomery Home, which is the sweetest little shop right off the square in Columbia TN. I wanted to take the store’s entire inventory home with me. I brought a ton of my own flowers up with me, and my sweet and generous Nashville friend Sonya came with a huge floral bucket of blossoms from her own garden. This is one of the demo pieces I did in my hydrangea bowl, which has a fixed ceramic frog inside to hold the stems in place. For this bowl, we used a range of dahlias, zinnias, tiny tagetes marigolds, victoria blue salvia (which is a reliable perennial for me), wild asters, and the star of the show was annual Love in a Puff vine. This is an annual plant, featuring ferny leaves, tiny white blossoms, and giant chartreuse balloon seedpods. The hydrangea bowl is currently out of stock but we are working to restock in time for the holidays.
43:52
Transitioning between seasons today. Fall bloomers are emerging- the heirloom and bedding chrysanthemums are bursting into bloom. Asters and late zinnias are still blooming. This is probably the very last of my big dahlias (but one never knows) and I am reluctantly cutting back my plumbago and fancy porch begonias to bring in and/or root for next year. All the blue and white and glossy leaves are tucked into the lowest of my low flower bowls, which is essentially an extra large soup plate fixed with a frog and glazed dark delphinium blue.
44:52
My neighbor texted me a photo of the big sunset-colored dahlia in the center of this arrangement this week (my full sun bed faces his back door). I used it as the basis for this arrangement- all the warm pink dahlias, roses, and zinnias in the garden, plus white spray roses that will bloom until we have a sustained hard freeze. I tucked them in a large handled urn which I’ve been enjoying in the living room this week. We are close to a freeze but I’m guessing that it will hold off a while longer.
45:52
Autumn marches on. This week we had our first frost, cutting down most of my dahlias and the basil. I covered the heirloom mums that were in bud and clipped several of them for this little arrangement. I am relatively new to heirloom mums, which require more care in siting and growing (lots of staking), than the garden mums I’m used to. I clipped Seaton’s j’adore, a blush colored beauty, French Vanilla, and Irish Linen (these are very similar in color, a warm white) but differ in size. I also clipped mutabilis rose, still going strong, hips from my climbing roses, and seed heads from river oats. I tucked all of these into one of my 4”modern ironstone cache pot, which I like holding flowers as much as plants.
46:52
This week I took over a baker’s dozen small bud vases to Paradox in midtown Memphis for their holiday season. It was a treat to sit over a few afternoons and throw different bud vases. This faceted vase is one of my favorites, and is perfect for this deep red dahlia that survived the frost.
47:52
When I first began making pottery I developed a pinched edge on bowls and plates that somewhat resembled bamboo. Several weeks ago when Larissa and I were making bricks for the winter, I played with adding feet and bamboo decoration to the edges. One of the feet broke off this brick, but I love the overall look and plan to make more- I will have a few online for the holidays. In this brick I have Sam Hopkins, one of my most productive dahlias (and the only one that is still blooming after our early frost), Evening glow spider mum, mutabilis roses, blueberry foliage, and a spider mum that I think is Zaryah.
48:52
I checked the weather this morning and saw that a freeze is forecast for tonight, so I cut all of the rest of my chrysanthemums (as well as everything else that will die in the freeze). I have so enjoyed these plants this season and plan to grow more next year. I also pulled one of my new tall bricks from the recently-finished pile to use for this exuberant bundle of mums. This is another footed piece that I’d like to play with in the future.
49:52
It is quite a thing to still have a garden-grown dahlia in December. This plant is several years old, nestled next to south-facing brick and still has buds. I cut one blossom and one bud and popped them into this simple bud vase. It was all they needed.
50:52
As winter sets in, I will occasionally be graced with roses in my garden, but this is the last significant grouping of the year. I think of the Advent hymn, ‘Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming” when I have December roses. This week I gathered mutabilis, the large single-petaled china, which is blooming as if it were early spring. My pale pink slightly frilly Perle d’or, frankly my favorite, is blooming happily on the south side of my house. A single desdemona (the cream colored Austin rose) joins this little clutch of roses in one of my smallest amphora vases, perfuming my studio desk.
51:52
More roses for Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday in Advent, using the rose-colored candle. I had planned other blossoms but in approaching my house by car I noticed that my beloved Perle was full of blossoms, clipped them, and went from there. I also cut more of the deeper toned mutabilis, a large bud of white climbing iceberg, which I’m training to cover my front porch, and barely-blushed white desdemona. I tucked them into my favorite mini tulipiere.
52:52
Merry Christmas Eve! Camellias in the vessel I made specifically to display this rose of winter. This time last year I lost the largest of my camellias due to a sudden freeze. I am grateful for what survived (the pink winter’s rose, white winter’s snowman) and for what I was able to replace (the tiny tea camellia and joyful red yuletide). This marks the end of the fifth year of sharing flowers from my garden every week of the year. It is a joy for me, and I hope for you, as well.
