On Monday I had the good fortune to attend a Town and Country Garden Club meeting near the small town from which we just recently moved. Susan, the lady hosting the meeting, amazed me as well as the other ladies present with a veritable multitude of talents. She and her husband have transformed a 100-year-old cabin into a warm, inviting home by adding features like this stone hearth and gas fireplace. The gourds displayed on the hearth belong to the guest speaker, Diane White from the Marion garden club. Diane gave an interesting presentation about preparing, painting, and finishing the gourds. She said she uses leather dyes, acrylic paints, and water-based stains on them and polishes them with paste wax. Decorations are added as a final touch.
She drilled small holes into this charming snowman to insert a pipe and stick arms. Some caution should be observed when drilling into gourds, though. Diane suggested wearing a dust mask to avoid breathing any mold spores which might be inside them.
I arrived early at Susan's house and snapped a few photos of her yard and its denizens, with her permission of course. She probably would not have minded me taking more pictures of her home's interior, but I felt kind of funny about it and decided not to. I don't know her very well and felt like I would be invading her privacy. The outside, though, seemed like fair game. Like I said before, Susan has a lot of talent for decorating. She made this grapevine deer herself and topped it off with real antlers. I hope for the real deer's sake that they were shed in the woods and not harvested. That term, "harvesting," is a kinder, gentler way to think of the deer meeting its end.
I wish that winter in the Land of Lincoln would be kinder and gentler. Susan expressed some disappointment that we didn't get to see any of her flower beds in bloom. There was a hard frost the night before, and the flowers were finished for the year.
Now that I am finished unpacking boxes, I can begin to wander about my new surroundings and take notice of things. For instance, there is an oil pipeline visible to passersby not more than two blocks from our house, laid beneath the lake, and continuing on beyond it. You can see the clearing made for it on the other side. One of our neighbors told us that security guards regularly patrol the area, I suppose, to prevent vandalism or theft. I wonder if they carry weapons or care if people like me take pictures?
After some blustery weather this past weekend, most of the colorful leaves have fallen. Yesterday afternoon, Hubby and I took a long walk in the neighborhood and explored some of the hilly roads nearby. There are no sidewalks here, but the traffic is light most of the time. No wonder it's so quiet around here. I did hear a train last night, but it was miles away and sounded kind of soothing instead of jarring to the nerves.
A certain blogger I mentioned in my last post recently gave me something she had made with her talented two hands. It's sitting on top of one of my bookcases right now because the garden outside is not familiar territory to me yet, and I'm not quite sure where it belongs yet (click on the picture to read the inscription). I feel like I'm a member of a very special kind of garden club now, one that doesn't have any ways or means committee, is not answerable to any federation rules, has no set meeting times, and is open to anyone with an interest in gardening or nature. Let's hope it continues to grow and gains new members from all over the world.
My world now contains elements of breathtaking beauty like this sunset viewed from the deck at our new place. I want to share it and many more like it in the future with members of the "club."
When earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colors have faded, and the youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it--lie down for an aeon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work anew!
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work anew!
And those that were good will be happy; they shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comets' hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from--Magdalene, Peter, and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be tired at all!
And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are!
--Rudyard Kipling's L'Envoi--
