It is raining now and I revel in each raindrop that hits my windowpane...it has been too long since I last heard their pitter pat and the gentle rumble of thunder that accompanies them.
The house just seems all the more cozy and safe on days such as this.
The baby is asleep and Grace is in her room making a latch hook rug and waiting for the clock to tell her it is time for Aunt M and Ti to arrive! They have a delicious afternoon of "Girlie Shopping at the Greene" planned! The Greene is our newest shopping/dining outdoor mall and it is Grace's favorite place to spend a few hours!
I wanted to share this delightful place with you today...I have long been a great admirer of writer and artist Tasha Tudor and her family. It is always pleasant to stop by their web pages and spend a few quiet minutes.
Doesn't a nice, hot cup of tea sound heavenly just now? I wonder if we still have some of those good lemon cookies left in the pantry....
April and May have come and gone, and if their only purpose was to bring June, it was a noble one indeed. For June is the greenest and happiest time of year for the garden, if only because the transformation from winter to spring is such a dramatic one. Nowhere is this remarkable advent of change more obvious than a well-established garden. Where the bitter and frequent winds of winter swept the featureless perennial beds, a mass of gentle green foliage now stands. Bleeding heart, sweet rocket, thalictrum, delphinium, daylily, tulips, daffodils, iris, and a sea of flowering crab blossoms obscure the stonewalls. Where there are no plants, the grass takes up, flowing through the main areas and dispersing quietly into paths.
These paths lead to quiet delights, a pond, a secret garden, an azalea garden, and a wildflower garden. The sweet cicely beneath the pear tree grows vigorously, and tastes like licorice. Not far from the clothesline stands the horse chestnut tree, a fast-growing tree, the nuts of which the squirrels are fond of. Not far beyond the herb garden stands a lovely circle of mint, thyme, lambs ear, oregano, parsley, basil, chives, rosemary, bay, embraced by a hedge of miniature arborvitae. The bay tree stands in the middle of the circular path. The path is a brick one, with creeping thyme coming up through the cracks. Every so often a volunteer, that is, a plant that comes up on its own, shows up in this path. Usually it is a hollyhock, and is left to enjoy the summer. Hummingbirds frequent the back of Tasha’s house. This is due to the profusion of red bee balm, and the proximity of the azalea garden just over the bank. There the triple white pine stands. Before a big windstorm comes up Tasha often says, “I hope it doesn’t come down. It would be quite a job to clean up.” The tree is on ledge, in fact, and is tall and wide. Nonetheless it has not come down for the past one hundred years, and seems intent on staying for another century.
The other morning Tasha swept the front porch clear of lilac and crabapple blossoms that blew in on an early summer thunderstorm, and set the table for iced tea. Regular tea does not necessarily take a hiatus until cooler weather, for sometimes there are those people who despite warm and humid weather enjoy their tea extra hot.
From the porch visitors have a prominent view of the white tree peony, and the plethora of sweet rocket that has seeded throughout the southern garden beds. They are a bright and cheerful flower. “I’ve always liked them,” Tasha said as she sat in her rocker and held a cup of hot tea in her hand and gazed across all the flowers, “They remind me of summer.”
-Tea Story and photographs by Winslow Tudor
