Last month I was coveting the firey forsythia that were blooming all over the place everywhere I seemed to go--my neighborhood, all around Wheeling, on every campus I visited, everywhere except my house.
I spent a good bit of daydreaming time wondering where I will plant my future forsythia. Will it look good near to my butter yellow house? Should I plant some along the edge of my yard near the road? What sort of exposure does a forsythia need? What sort of exposure does my yard get? Would I get arrested if I cut other people's forsythia to paste into my yard this year? (Don't worry, this never left the hypothetical)
Then I left my house for nearly a week to work from Morgantown. Lincoln & I stayed with my sister & brother-in-law, their son (The wonderful Andrew) and their TWO dogs. More later on the tales of Lincoln's adventures with Molly & Megan. Anyway, when I got back to my house I opened the back door to let Lincoln out and was delighted to be overwhelmed by the scent of lilacs. I have no Forsythia, but I do have the biggest lilac bush I have ever seen in full bloom in my backyard!
I took this picture to show the scale of this bush, note my neighbor's car
The smell of lilacs immediately takes me back to my years on campus at CMU. There is (or at least was) an entire bank covered with lilacs next to Morewood and I walked by it every day between my dorm and classes. When the lilacs bloomed, spring had arrived. Even with a chill remaining in the air, and gray Pittsburgh skies over head, the lilacs brought hope--the end of the semester was coming soon! Lilacs also bloomed after carnival was over, which meant some time to relax and enjoy friends without rehearsals, production meetings, and stress. I hadn't realized what good feelings lilacs inspire, but this week has reminded me.
The first thing I did was cut a bunch and take them to my next door neighbors, Melinda & Chris. I hadn't met them yet since moving in, and the vase of lilacs was a good introduction I think. The next morning I cut a bunch for my table and put them in my beautful maid of honor gift vase that I (sadly) rarely use, and they fill it perfectly.
I have been sharing my lilacs with everyone. Rachel & Karen came over and took some home with them. I took a bouquet to Abby to mark her going away dinner. I am planning to cut tons for the Wine Gala this weekend. And there are still PLENTY more. If you are reading this and would like some lilacs, let me know because I have plenty.
I really love to give gifts, but can't afford to buy things for everyone I love. [I haven't read the Five Love Languages, but if I did, I imagine gift giving would be my love language.] This lilac bush has been such a blessing because I can give and give from it and still have plenty more to give. This is the first time I have had such abundance to share, and I think for the first time I understand why my dad spends so much time each year planting a huge vegetable garden.
Half of my parent's yard is taken up by my dad's four tiered garden. All my life I remember him spending Saturday after Saturday throughout the spring out there. First tilling the ground, then preparing the plants & seeds, letting Libby & me help him plant the peas, broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, brussel sprouts, peppers (several kinds), tomatoes (several kinds), cucumbers, eggplants, and zucchini. For a family of four, my dad's garden FAR out produced our vegetable intake potential. Yet he continued to plant the whole thing every year.
I know that for my dad, his time in the garden was therapy. Like me, his work was often made up of abstract, on going processes without clear end points, and he strove to do his work excellently every day of the week. On the weekend though, his concrete mind sought a project that he could control, design, begin, and end. When the entire plot had been turned over with his bright red roto-tiller, it was done. It would not need to be done again for 12 months. *aaahhhhh* Then all the plants were in, and we were giving them their first watering. *aaahhhhh* A week or two later, all the tomato plants had been staked. *aaahhhhh* Each step was hard labor to be sure, but I think the satisfaction of a completed task means a lot to my dad. (ask him about his lists)
Now he's retired and his garden is his work. When I asked him a couple weeks ago if he'd be working on the garden that weekend he told me "absolutely not. The weekends are for spending time with your mom. I do garden work during the week so my weekends are free." That's my dad--Mr. Discipline and Planning, even in retirement.
Regardless of WHEN my dad works on his garden, I know WHY he does it--to share. My father has planted a big garden for 30 years so that he has a gift he can give freely and generously to people he cares about--family, friends, neighbors, & co-workers. More than once my dad has come home from his golf league with a few buddies for a cold one on the porch and a trip through the produce department. I remember him coming home at lunchtime in the summers so he could pick veggies for his coworkers' dinners. No one leaves my parent's house in the summer without a bag full of vegetables. Everytime my dad visits me between June and October I get something fresh and delicious. I don't know if he is looking forward to these moments of sharing , or the people he'll share with when he maps out his plan each year and spends days literally bent in half planting and weeding, but I am pretty sure that's why he does it. Well, that and the taste of a homegrown tomato still warm from the sun.
I didn't have to work at all to have all these wonderful lilacs to share, but I am glad to be carrying on some of the generosity I learned from my dad by sharing the abundance I was so freely given.
If you read all the way to here, you deserve a special treat. I have no pics of my dad's garden, so here's a picture of Rachel & I holding Norah & Lincoln. Notice that Norah & Lincoln's outfits are coordinated--pink * brown stripes and spots
