Frumps, Fogies, Failures

So, I’m back stateside but not quite home as yet. That happens this coming weekend. However, reality is beginning to set in as my mind goes over the tasks awaiting. Bills, unpacking, laundry, grocery shopping are the usual back-to-the-routine activities that facilitate the reentry into ‘normal’.

Given that this is already the third week into September, it’s also that time of year when I review the garden. Fall planting is about to commence and one needs to know what has worked and what has not. Each year I’m tempted to be bold and rip out entire sections to experiment with improbably ambitious dreams but then common sense gets in the way and tries to curb my enthusiasm. I’m not entirely comfortable with being just ‘sensible’ or the garden remaining as is. All gardens need to evolve and, I need to have a bit of a challenge – an experiment of sorts to push beyond my comfort zone. After all that’s how the ‘meadow’, espalier and vertical garden were conceived. Each of which give me great joy and inspiration.

Last fall saw the installation of the big sculpture Wind Song. This year however, with numerous other projects demanding my time and energy, I’m not planning on anything ambitious. I’ll certainly be planting hundreds of bulbs as usual but otherwise, I’m only going to examine the garden in terms of which plants I’m unhappy, bored or downright out of love with. They will have to go. More happy-making and/or edgy replacements will be found.

Here is my list thus far –

Frumps – ‘firebird’ geraniums. I had thought it would be fun with its fringed edged flowers but instead, it has looked rather dowdy. Did absolutely nothing except sit in the window-boxes. No pizazz at all. I will replace ( actually, revert) with my much loved and briefly neglected ivy-leaved geraniums. I’m also hoping to source Geranium phaem ‘Samobar’ and Papaver cambricum for the meadow – they appear rather elegant and airy. Precisely the look I myself aspire to achieve some day.

Fogies – Blue lobelia. I’m still fond of them but they tend to succumb to summer heat very quickly and start looking brown and crispy. They’ve been a ho-hum mainstay too long. Instead, I’m going to try a blue Streptocarpus. Although they are usually seen as indoor plants, I saw them in pots and window-boxes at a friend’s garden earlier this year and thought they were lovely.

Failures – Eremurus! This was my third attempt with the fox-tail lilies. Only one out of six bulbs planted emerged and bloomed. I’m done with them. Too expensive and too picky. Next year, I’m going to delight myself with a host of sunflowers in that same spot – dependable and downright brilliant. It is impossible to look at sunflowers and not smile.

No doubt, as I get over jet-lag I will come up with more candidates to vote out. A trip to the nursery will surely give more inspiration. Stay tuned!

Doesn’t this a whole lot better than …


The lone, pathetic eremurus.

Don’t you feel uplifted looking at this instead?

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Weather-worn But Never Beaten

Has anybody been able to keep their minds off the weather lately? Typically, whilst on vacation, I stay away from all news. Particularly the political sort. It’s my necessary escape into an Utopia where all is well all the time. I absolutely need that state of make-believe to recharge my batteries. But with Harvey and Irma on the war path and an earthquake of epic scale hitting North America, it’s been impossible to stay unaware or worse, unconcerned. To reach out, to determine how to help is everyone’s obligation.

The concerns are grave and so many. The people injured, dispossessed, stranded or lost are our immediate focus. Followed closely by the animals in distress. How to manage the inevitable dangers of disease, hunger, destruction of the infrastructure, search and rescue are just the beginning. Then comes assessing and containing the damages, rehabilitation and finally the repair and rebuilding. And all of this happens almost concurrently. Without the help of agencies like FEMA, the National Guards, the amazing first responders, the Red Cross and Habitat For Humanity as well as the unfailing generosity of individuals and communities across the country and globe, emerging through such disasters is near impossible. So, here I am seeking to help in some manner or other.

Whilst determining where and what is needed, I’ve been thinking about food. No, not like in reaching for food in the snack section to comfort but more as in how future meals everywhere will be affected by these natural disasters. When crops are destroyed, we must pay attention. From a complete loss of certain crop yields to a scarcity of them, there are the problems of lost or endangered livelihoods for farmers and all related food industry workers from truckers to factories to grocery stores to restaurants and finally our own kitchens. Nobody is unaffected. A hurricane might be in one corner of the country but, the entire nation will feel its far reaching impact.

Here’s my resolution. Apart from immediately donating money, clothing and other imperative sundries, I’m committed to supporting our American farmers. If the citrus crop or any other produce that is a mainstay that I typically depend upon is completely lost, I am willing to do without until those farmers recover sufficiently to once again grow and harvest their crops. Because of a paucity of the produce, if prices go up, then, I shall pay without complaint. Until such time, I cannot in good conscience indulge my habits or wants by purchasing from other distant shores.

Local, seasonal produce is always my first choice. I belong to a Community Supported Agriculture Co-op. But there is plenty more that our farmers all across the country supply. We are simply so accustomed to having them readily available that we hardly ever consider the where and how.

This matter of supporting our farmers is particularly highlighted for me here in Provence where every town or village has its weekly market day. Visitors revel in these markets but the locals truly await this day of buying their food for the week. Fruits and vegetables, meats, poultry, seafood, mushrooms, honey, confitures, breads, olives and tapenades, dried herbs and spices, cheeses, wines – just about everything a French cook needs. And every single vendor is from the region. There are far fewer supermarkets in these parts. That says something doesn’t it?

True, our farmer’s markets are also local but in all honesty, they are pricey for the average consumer. Those of us who frequent these markets ( my hand is up), are privileged. My hope is that in time, demand will grow, supply will grow and then prices will drop. Together we will all eat local, support our farmers and grow healthy individually, as a community and as a nation.

Political divisions be damned.

Note: The images of the devastation caused by the storms breaks my heart. So, I’m going to focus on the positive and provide images of seasonal produce in the markets and some of the foods we’ve been enjoying as a result. A few of the photos were posted in the last couple of weeks but I think they’re worth repeating!

Making lavender wands

Tomato tart

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

In Someone Else’s Eden

As I mentioned last week, I’m away from home and kinda, sorta missing my garden. With all its imperfections and idiosyncrasies, it is after all my own piece of paradise. It’s where I feel most comfortable. My escape from everything – a sanctuary in the midst of quotidian chaos. Yet, here I am in Provence and I have absolutely nothing to complain about.

For all of three weeks I have the run of a home and garden that anyone with even the faintest of a heartbeat would be tripping over themselves to experience. I’m certainly making the most of it.

I’ll spare you most of the envy creating details and simply focus on the garden. It is two acres of Provencal charm. The garden doesn’t pretend to be anything but its authentic self and because of that, it not only works brilliantly but clearly requires only a minimal amount of upkeep. That is exactly what every gardener should aspire to create.

Instead of telling, I’ll show you. Enjoy. Witness its inspired simplicity and honest beauty.

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

A Case For Windowboxes

I’ve always loved window boxes. Long before I could imagine ever having a piece of ground to cultivate, I knew I would have window-boxes. Traveling as an impoverished student and then as a newly employed but still living in rental apartments, I’d photograph all the charmingly adorned windows I came across. One day I too was going to have them.

The surest way to brighten up the facade of any house is to hang flower boxes. The sight pleases the eye and puts a smile on the face. It’s welcoming and says something positive about the occupants.

What one plants in them is up to the imagination and taste. Tasteful/ elegant/ gaudy/ showy/ seasonal/ loud/ simple/ modern/ minimalist/ cottage-y/ – it doesn’t matter. Go for it. I do however strongly suggest – only live plants please. No plastic or other faux material. Really. What’s the point of having window boxes if you’re going to put in fake plants?

They’re quite easy to maintain. I squeeze in more plants in this limited space than I would in a bed in the ground. I go for a look of abundance and exuberance. The old pillar, filler, spiller combination still holds true.

Contrary to what is widely suggested, I eschew potting soil and use top soil mixed with compost instead. While the former is deemed lighter and adequate, I find the latter much better for encouraging good, healthy growth. Water retaining crystals are sprinkled in the lower one-third of the box/pot. I fertilize once a month with an organic potion.

All this happens in sturdy box liners that fit into the boxes well. This not only makes it a snap to pot up but it also protects the wood of the boxes as it does not come in direct contact wit soil. Towards the end of a season when the boxes start looking peaky, I start the next season’s contenders in fresh, clean liners. And when I deem that the present lot is done for, the next batch of divas are waiting and ready to start performing.

The boxes are watered according to season and daily weather. In spring I can get away with just one thorough watering a week but in summer, the plants often get thirsty enough to demand a drink every other day. Access to the boxes from the inside allows convenient watering, deadheading and tidying up.

I often include fragrant plants in my mix – the perfume that wafts into the house is a real mood lifter. This past spring, the scent of the stock just bowled me over.

A few weeks ago, I was awakened by a curious sound that I could not immediately identify. On looking around the room whilst still in bed didn’t offer up any clue until from the corner of my eye I detected movement. Turning my head towards the window, I saw a hummingbird getting its early morning drink. Since then, I’ve been privileged to watch it almost every morning – so worth the early wake up call. Does my heart good knowing I’ve been of service.

This justifies everything.

Be inspired by the photos below!

My hummingbird alarm. (Picture is not clear as it was taken on my phone from my bed and through the window screen)

When there aren’t any windows …

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Field Trip

Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.” Seneca

All too often, I get so caught up in the demands of life that my time with plants is mostly spent in my own garden. But the truth is, I absolutely adore visiting other gardens. Both public and private. Seeing a different garden is like entering a new country. Crossing new borders is always an adventure ( pun intended!).

One discovers differences and similarities, new likes or dislikes, new plants are identified, familiar plants to use in interesting, fresh ways and, hardscaping details that inspire. At the end of every journey, one learns something about oneself.

About ten days ago, I had the opportunity that was the ultimate in garden visits. My friend and garden wizard Marco Polo Stufano offered to take me and a couple of friends around Untermyer gardens, Wave Hill gardens and his own garden. Now, I’ve seen all three several times before but to go around Untermyer and Wave Hill with Marco as our personal guide was my idea of winning the lottery. Wave Hill in particular was a rare treat – after all, Marco created it and put it on the map. His own garden is a jewel box – it is the best representation of knowledge, aesthetics and passion.

I learned, I saw anew, I was totally in bliss. We walked, talked and laughed. I was enjoying myself so much that the heat and humidity that usually does me in, left me unfazed. It was quite simply a truly transcendent experience.

The two public gardens are at the height of their summer glory – go see for yourself!

I took pictures but it was my senses that absorbed the gardens a great deal more. No doubt I will do things in my garden as a result of that and many of those ideas will seem as though they were all mine but I’ll know in my heart that I had so much inspiration and guidance that I couldn’t have done it any other way.

And that’s why one gets out and explores other worlds. To grow.

Note:‘City Views’, an exhibition of works by 88 League artists celebrating New York City.  The show, showcases the wide diversity and remarkable quality of art being made by League students and members.

‘City Views’ is at the Manhattan Borough President‘s office at 1 Centre Street and is open through the end of August. If you can’t make it in person, you can view most of the works here.  They are for sale with prices starting at around $100.  On line purchasing is open.

Enjoy the images from my field trip!


Wave Hill:

Marco and Louis – two generations of Wave Hill directors.

Still-life for the compost heap

Marco’s garden:

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Friends With Benefits

Did the title grab your attention? I thought so.

This past week, my garden was enriched by a bunch of plants given to me by various friends. First, I received a couple of plants as a hostess gift from Marco. He’d dug up these special gems from his own rather exceptional garden. Alchemilla erythropoda and Aruncus aethusifolius – two miniature gems to beguile the side path of my garden.

Earlier in July, I was asked to identify a ‘mystery’ plant that had suddenly cropped up in numbers in friend Pat’s garden. They turned out to be the native orchid Galearis. This too is a diminutive plant. Pat offered me some of these and being the greedy gardener that I am, I readily accepted. After consulting with my orchid expert friend Bill, it was decided that the orchids are best transplanted after the flowers had finished blooming. That happened last week. Perfect additions to my native plant collection in the ‘meadow’.

On my morning walk last Friday, I stopped to chat with a neighbor who was working in her pretty garden. Suzy was dividing her Siberian irises. She generously suggested I take some and once again, I accepted with shameless alacrity. A few of my own irises have mysteriously disappeared over the years so I’m particularly pleased to get this gift.

Finally, my friend Julie offered me her Calycanthus as she is selling her house and that shrub was bought some years ago when we were having a splendid day together at a rare plant sale. She has been given unlimited visiting rights to check on her beloved plant.

Yesterday, all the gifts were planted in my garden. They will hopefully thrive and enhance it. In addition, they and so many others like them, will be endearing reminders of memorable moments, special relationships and bonds. For garden and gardener, it is win-win all the way. The very stuff that sweetens life.


I’m very pleased to be in this show. Hope you will visit!

Here are my ‘friendly benefits’:

Alchemilla erythropoda – potted up for now. Will be planted in ground in the fall.

Aruncus aethusifolius – also temporarily in a pot.



So many ferns from John!

A gift from the past – Bianca rose from Henriette

Ornamental raspberry – also from Marco many moons ago.

So many ferns from John!

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Fresh Perspective I

I take my garden very personally. How it performs is a direct reflection of me. True, weather plays a big part in the welfare of the garden but even there I feel bad if the garden suffers – I should somehow protect it no matter what. Disease or any type of pest invasion is my fault – I should have kept better vigilance and acted sooner. Sounds absurd I know but there you have it. Often, my feelings about the garden are quite like those parents have for their children. A relationship fraught with worry and guilt whilst loving passionately and unconditionally.

Just as parents are eager to show their children in the best possible light, I have an unreasonable desire to have the garden look spectacular at all times. It is simply not possible. There are periods of lull when not much is happening by way of flower power. The best one can do is keep up with weeding and other maintenance so the garden looks neat and cared for. In reality, to achieve that is in itself a pretty decent accomplishment. Because the weather, work and life events both big and small will thwart all your best laid plans and agendas. Invariably, when visitors to the garden arrive, the gardener will mention how much better the garden looked the previous week and/or will look stunning in the near future. Somehow, the gardener is hardly ever likely to say that the present moment is the best the garden has ever looked. We are simply too close to our creation to be honestly objective or detached enough to accept the present reality.

Yet, more often than not, the visitor views the garden differently and far more kindly. They are not likely to notice the odd weed or two, the floppy lily you haven’t got around to staking or that the roses need deadheading. Instead, the visitor is looking at the garden as a whole and will in all probability be quite taken with the charm of it all. And yet, the gardener will still only focus on the flaws and make excuses …

So, this past Saturday, I was given a gift that did my own harsh perspective of my garden a marvel of good. I got to see my garden through the eyes of artists. A true privilege.

A dozen watercolorists came up from New York City to spend the day painting in the garden. Some were themselves gardeners and others had no gardening experience but they all had keenly discerning eyes and distinct styles. Their oohs and aahs as they looked around my garden were instant ego boosts and at the end of the day, their artistic efforts showed me my garden in a wholly fresh, new light. They had observed with their artistic eyes details I thought nobody would notice and captured different areas in their own uniquely talented ways. The camaraderie and collective good spirits were empowering and uplifting.

It was all giddyingly exhilarating. I am humbled and yet, so terribly proud. Painting alongside these very talented artists, I too got the chance to see and appreciate my garden anew.

Enough said. The pictures below say it all:

IMG_1778IMG_1783 IMG_1777 IMG_1775 IMG_1772IMG_1790 IMG_1785

IMG_1798 IMG_1784

The output:

IMG_1809 IMG_1808  IMG_1801IMG_1797We even had live music!

IMG_1804IMG_1821 IMG_1820 IMG_1818 IMG_1817 IMG_1815 IMG_1813 IMG_1824IMG_1838

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Call Maintenance!

Most of life is passed doing maintenance of some sort. We devote a good deal of our time maintaining relationships. Our bonds with family, friends, coworkers and all those who play some part in our day to day activities, must necessarily be kept strong. And we go to all sorts of lengths to do so. I imagine that on any given day, at least a third of my wakening hours are given over to connecting, communicating and commiserating with people. That is a chunk of time and effort!

We are obliged to maintain our health. How and what we eat, how much we exercise or stay active, what we do for recreation, our spiritual practices, regular physicals, dental check ups and age appropriate tests – are all integral to keeping ourselves in good fighting shape. After all, some days it feels like a war zone out there.

Apart from other activities, I try to walk a few miles each week day. While I enjoy the cooler temperatures in the early hours of the summer days, observing the birds and gardens I pass by and, often get inspiration for my poetry or painting, my underlying motivation to get myself out of a very comfortable bed at what feels like an ungodly hour, is that need to keep this body in some sort of decent health.

Our homes seem to be in a never ending state of requiring maintenance. From something simple like replacing a fused light bulb to a regular dusting and vacuuming all around to needing a new appliance to repainting a room, there is always something that needs tending.

This past week alone, in my house, some bathroom tiles were replaced, a sticky door got unstuck, the furnace was serviced, water filters replaced and I haven’t yet mentioned laundry, dish washing or daily tidy up!

We keep up with finances, archiving photos, stocking the pantry, servicing the car and a myriad other matters. It can often feel like an endless conveyor belt of must-dos.

The garden is no exception. While we wax eloquent on the plants and their blooms, most garden work is all about upkeep. We mend or replace paths, fences and steps. Thin out plants that are overcrowding the beds. Staying on top of weeding, watering, staking, mowing, deadheading, composting and keeping a sustained vigilance for pests or disease are all how we keep the garden healthy and bountiful.

The frequent rains we’ve had has translated into a greater number of weeds popping up so that task demands some extra time. Likewise, the jewel-weed that seems to want to take over the meadow needed to be thinned out aggressively. It belongs here for sure but only as a part of the whole.

All of a sudden this year, the David Austin rose ‘Heritage’ put out deep red flowers in addition to its usual pale pink ones. On closer examination, I determined that the red roses were from a stem emerging from the root stock. I assume with the passage of time and water over the many years it has been in the garden, the soil has been washed away to expose more of the area below the graft line. Seeing the light of day triggered that area to start doing what it is biologically programmed to do. Since I really only want the Heritage roses, I must now cut off the limb growing from the root stock and cover it up properly with soil so it goes back to being quiet and invisible.

When one steps back and assesses all that needs doing to maintain ourselves and our lifestyles it can seems there is no time to simply smell the coffee and/or roses. But just pause with me here. Maintaining is what its all about. With all the curve balls life can toss around and create havoc, we should be so lucky that we can just focus on taking care of what matters most to us.

Note: my art show at the Ruth Keeler Memorial Library is on till the end of this month.


David Austin Heritage rose and the red rootstock rose

David Austin Heritage rose and the red rootstock rose


Meadow after thinning out the jewel-weed

Meadow after thinning out the jewel-weed


Wall garden right now

Wall garden right now

Leafy greens doing well

Leafy greens doing well

Bonica roses - a gift from Henriette Suhr many years ago

Bonica roses – a gift from Henriette Suhr many years ago

Oak-leaf hydrangea beginning to bloom

Oak-leaf hydrangea beginning to bloom

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Changing Climates, Changing Calendars

Unless you’ve been doing time in solitary confinement in an underground bunker, the term ‘climate change’ has been the mainstay in almost all conversations this past week. Agree or not, it is worth mentioning that the global scientific community at large and ones who study the climate in particular are in consensus that the climate is not only changing but human activity has had a detrimental impact on it.

Climate change is a highly complex subject with innumerable moving parts. This makes it really difficult to understand by most minds. In addition, it is an evolving subject and consequently, there are gaps in the data. Unfortunately, these gaps are exploited by those who are inclined to deny climate change. Given the complexity of this topic, does it not behoove us to believe and trust the scientists who know so much about it? After all, if we can accept the super-complicated science in cancer research and treatment, why are we doubting their word on climate change?

Whatever one thinks, lets simply get into the garden and consider phenology. This is the science dealing with periodic biological events that are influenced by weather and climate. In other words, it is the scientific observations of changes in plants and animals to weather or climate events causing them. In the case of plants, the significant stages of its life (phenophases) such as nascence, flowering, fruiting, senescence are studied. Phenology is more colloqually called nature’s calendar.

As gardeners, we are amateur scientists of sorts. Foot soldiers so to speak. We plan for and note all the goings on in the garden. We are aware of drought conditions, excess rain, prolonged heat or cold, sudden or extreme fluctuations in temperature, a scarcity in bees or a population explosion in chipmunks. And as a result of such occurrences, we note how our plants have responded. Last spring, it warmed up slowly, the apple blossoms emerged and then it got really cold so no bees showed up. This lack of bees resulted in poor pollination and hence a lack of fruits.

This year, spring blew warm and cold so the lilacs bloomed early. Meanwhile, mid to late May bloomers like my peonies, baptisia, roses, amsonia and several other plants are only just beginning to flower. A three day blast of summer like heat in early May, hastened the alliums – the early and late flowering types all burst open together. While this loud chorus of color looked stunning, the length of the concert itself was abbreviated.

This past winter was so mild that we are now confronted with an impressive increase in the populations of ticks, chipmunks, rats, mice and other annoyances. Yet, the cooler than usual spring has contained the number of bees and butterflies. Normally, the garden is humming with their activity at this time.

The life cycles of plants and animals are inter-related. Planting and/or flowering times coincide with the emergence of pollinators. Insect problems often occur at specific stages of a plant’s life. When exactly we feed, protect or treat our plants for disease is an application of phenology. What practices and tools we use has impact on the plant and animal populations.

Working with nature allows one to see up close how intimately connected we, as in all biological forms, are to the weather and climate. We cannot ignore the inconsistencies in the climate today. The normal phenophases by which a gardener tracks the garden’s progress get moved back or forward by the vagaries of weather/climate. If you typically plant tomatoes when the dogwoods flower signaling that the threat of frost has passed, then what happens if the latter flowers early? Risk it?

Phenology itself is now being used as an indicator of climate change. It stands to reason that every gardener applies it as he/she goes about working in the garden. The question now is this – are we or are we not going to do right by the world?

I, for one, acknowledge that my choices and life style has impact on my environment. Collectively, we affect the globe. So, I will start with my number one credo – Do No Harm. And that means, being mindful, thoughtful, respectful and considerate in all my actions. This will include those that I do not enjoy or ones I oppose – from invasive plants to pests to people. I realize in many instances it will not be easy. But I’m willing to meet the challenge. Are you?

[To learn more about phenology, look up the USA National Phenological Network at  ]

Note: All of this month, I have a solo show of my watercolors at the Ruth Keeler Memorial Library in North Salem, NY. I hope you will take time to go visit. Thanks!

The images below are of some of my efforts to do right by my neck of the woods:

Aquilegia canadensis in the meadow

Aquilegia canadensis in the meadow


Tiarella cordifolia

Cheloni lyoni - pink turtlehead

Cheloni lyoni – pink turtlehead

White and blue cammasia

White and blue cammasia

Oak leaf hydrangea

Oak leaf hydrangea

Anemone canadensis

Anemone canadensis

American robin babies in the apple espalier

American robin babies in the apple espalier

In the meadow - a melange of bulbs and native plants

In the meadow – a melange of bulbs and native plants



Native wisteria

Native wisteria

The rain barrel

The rain barrel

The vertical garden - a brilliant way to keep the building cool in summer. Water for plants is recirculated.

The vertical garden – a brilliant way to keep the building cool in summer. Water for plants is recirculated.

(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar

Budding Friends

Gardeners are a friendly bunch. But gardening itself is somewhat solitary. We look upon our plants as rather agreeable company. After all, plants make patient listeners and quiet supporters. Over time, trees and other long lasting plants become familiar friends we come to rely upon. I personally have been known to vent, confide and brainstorm with several of them as I’ve gone about weeding, pruning and planting. I’ve come to depend on their counsel and consolation. Any length of time in their presence does a world of good to my spirit and temperament.

I’ve worked out so many problems, sorted through various emotions and made sound decisions after opening up to my photosynthetic friends. Similarly, they have borne witness to the many celebrations and marked countless milestones. A gathering in my garden is an acknowledgement to the vital role its residents play in my life.

As with most gardeners, we share plants with each other. We trade, gift and covet each other’s plants freely. So when I wander through my own little Eden, those friends who gave me specific plants are also on my mind. These associations stay strong and alive forever. Some of those generous friends have passed on but their gifts remind and reassure. Their spirits are at home here. I cherish their company too.

Then there are the new friendships that come about in gardens. In my case, my garden’s open day is the ideal set up for making more friends. After all, those who come to see and appreciate the garden are typically kindred spirits. Especially the ones who brave inclement weather and/or drive fair distances to see the many gardens! I love my open days precisely because I get to meet some terrific new folk and reaffirm my fondness for those already known. I’ve learned all sorts of new stuff about plants, nifty gardening methods, new recipes, other fine gardens, obscure but terrific books and movies and, best of all, formed friendships that open more vistas in my life. My cup runneth over. I exist in a perpetual state of gratitude. Without all these friends, my life would be mind-numbingly dull.

At my most recent open day, I met a couple who, for some strange reason, felt as though I’d always known them. It felt comfortable. Well, listening to one’s instincts is good. A few days later, I was offered some lovely primula babies from their garden. Offer accepted!

This past Sunday, we had a most enjoyable visit and I came away with a rather embarrassingly generous haul of primulas from their totally charming garden. Pat and Jon, a million thanks.

You see how it works? I ended up with new plants, got to see a beautiful, new garden and gained two new friends. Budding friends indeed.

Note – All through the month of June, I will have my artwork on exhibit at the Ruth Keeler Memorial Library in North Salem. Do please go and take a look.

Now, enjoy the i-phone photos from Pat and Jon’s garden – I apologize to those reading on your phone or on Facebook as some of the images will appear upside down. On your laptops they will appear fine. Or, go directly to my website.


The primulas!

The primulas!

Emma. Another new friend.

Emma. Another new friend.


A charming collection of miniature hostas, geraniums and other gems.The hand is there for scale!

A charming collection of miniature hostas, geraniums and other gems.The hand is there for scale!


(c) 2017 Shobha Vanchiswar