The thing I'm realizing about living where there are true seasons is that they actually make time pass more quickly. Yet again, I'm scrambling to tell you the latest while the next season is breathing down my neck! Technically I have a few more weeks, but Labor Day does mark the unofficial end of all things summer so I will bust out a list of some of my favorite things about these last 12 weeks. And, yes, I'll be wearing white linen while I do so. Time is ticking for those favorites too.
Simple Pleasure #1 ~ Sweet Peas
This beloved flower was first brought to my attention by my dear friend, Sharon when she grew them in her own secret garden in Palo Alto. They inspired us so that they were the catalyst for our very first garden party that ended up as an annual event for 10 years.
Last spring, I diligently planted hundreds of seeds along the fence of the rinding ring imagining their beautiful presence winding around everything. Well, word on the street is that sweet peas don't like it hot and they cannot tolerate weeds. That communicates to me they have no business showing up at the Phineas Wright House! Maybe 3 actually lived long enough to produce a flower. Ugh!
This year, sweet Keith, started the seeds in the basement (like all good New England farmers do!) and we transplanted the starts into a weed free bed along the garden fence. Success! No one told these little ladies that they don't like it hot either. They peaked in July, about the time I was withering, and I clipped thousands of fragrant stems for weeks. Hooray for sweet peas!
Simple Pleasure #1 ~ Sweet Peas
This beloved flower was first brought to my attention by my dear friend, Sharon when she grew them in her own secret garden in Palo Alto. They inspired us so that they were the catalyst for our very first garden party that ended up as an annual event for 10 years.
Last spring, I diligently planted hundreds of seeds along the fence of the rinding ring imagining their beautiful presence winding around everything. Well, word on the street is that sweet peas don't like it hot and they cannot tolerate weeds. That communicates to me they have no business showing up at the Phineas Wright House! Maybe 3 actually lived long enough to produce a flower. Ugh!
This year, sweet Keith, started the seeds in the basement (like all good New England farmers do!) and we transplanted the starts into a weed free bed along the garden fence. Success! No one told these little ladies that they don't like it hot either. They peaked in July, about the time I was withering, and I clipped thousands of fragrant stems for weeks. Hooray for sweet peas!
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