This is me being ambushed by the paparazzi rector at St. Alban’s church in Glen Williams last weekend. I had been gardening in the rain around the church (best time to plant, IMHO) and I was lookin’ mighty fine.
And this is my mom in 1961, a year before I was born. That’s her legendary rock garden in Fulford, Quebec. Apparently my maternal grandmother, who died when I was two, was also a gardener. I actually have some of her peonies and irises growing in my garden; they’ve travelled over the years from the Saint John River valley in New Brunswick to Montreal to Kitchener to here.
Anyway, I guess when it comes to gardening, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Ok, back outside with Turbo. It’s a beautiful Saturday and I have the entire glorious weekend all to myself to work in my own garden. Yay!
POLLENATRIX 