A little yellow goes a long way at the beginning of the daffodil season. ‘Little Gem’ in the moongate bed is always the first of our daffs to bloom. (The ones pictured below are an even weensier unidentified variety near the staff entrance to the mansion. You have to have your eyes wide open to spot them.)  They’re a good three weeks ahead according to last year’s calendar. Who knows what that means for the rest of our daffs? All we can do is cross our fingers that we get some late-winterish cold nights that cause them to hold off long enough to properly celebrate Daffodil Days, scheduled for April 14 – May 6. (The rest of you however, may be allowed to get excited about an early spring. Huzzah!)

To me it still feels too early to talk about the holidays – I avert my eyes from any commercial Christmas display at least until the day after Thanksgiving – but Blithewold’s decorators have been thinking about Christmas since … well, February anyway. And they’ve been elfishly at work decorating the mansion since the middle of October. Last week the garden volunteers came in to do the big tree (designed by Joanne Murrman) and so I think it must be time to say the halls of Blithewold are well and truly decked – just in time for opening the day after Thanksgiving. I refuse to call that day “Black Friday” because Thanksgiving is a such a sweet holiday and for me the day after is for relaxing into the spirit of the season. In fact, it’s a perfect day to take a walk around Blithewold and receive the Gifts of Nature – if I may say so myself!

I love this year’s theme. It lends itself so well to our annual celebration of Nature’s abundance (although she was a little stingy with acorns and cones this year), natural talents, and home-made joy. All over the house there is evidence of imaginations run wild, and sublime repurposing of some of nature’s prettiest bits and bobs. Outside, Gail outdid herself on the front door wreath. Once again, Fred and Dan have created a stunning display of bamboo ingenuity; and I hope it’s obvious that I had a ball putting together the container arrangements.

It amazes me how Christmas at Blithewold has become a special part of so many traditions – from the volunteer decorators who insist on returning with new ideas year after year; to whole families who attend our wreath making workshops (Saturday’s is sold out) and to everyone who makes an annual winter pilgrimage all decked out in holiday finery for tea or a musical performance. But it makes perfect sense – it’s a gracious and relaxing place, sparking and festive, and well away from any hullaballoo of holiday mayhem.

Do you have a place you go every year to get into the holiday spirit? Do you borrow any of nature’s gifts for your holiday decorations? (Need any new ideas?)

She makes garden design look so easy. Last Thursday for the second time in exactly a decade Julie Moir Messervy enraptured the Garden Design Luncheon crowd with her graciousness, easy-going wit, energy, style, and utterly pragmatic approach to design. For busy homeowners she promotes outdoor living spaces capable of enticing anyone away from their computer screens (and has somewhat ironically created an app for that.) For gardeners who might be paralyzed by the endless possibilities she shows us how to tune in to our deepest desires to create a garden as comfortable and welcoming as our kitchen.

According to Julie, we already know how to design the garden of our dreams. We formed a connection to the outdoors as children. – Where did we go for daydreaming, reverie and reflection? Those places are part of our inner garden. We are full of great ideas that we have been collecting from all of the places we’ve ever visited and loved. We know what we like and what we don’t.

We can take an inventory of those ideas and predilections and translate them into what Julie calls the “big moves”, which are not unlike what we do inside when we set the table or rearrange the objet d’art on the mantel until we get it exactly right. Granted, the “big moves” outside often involve a little more heavy lifting, sometimes a lot more money, and even occasionally someone with an engineering degree and that is why some of us (my hand is raised) become too scared-rabbit to commit.

But Julie’s gorgeous slides were enough to catapult anybody out of inertia (if you could have heard the gasps!) To begin, we might identify our garden’s comfort zones; think about the frontyard as if it’s the back; create paths that choreograph pauses; audit the visual energy; place the pieces, and set about “crafting the details of nature.”

Julie also urged us all to follow Doug Tallamy’s advice about planting natives for the bugs and the birds. Whatever kind of garden you design, be sure to plant a few natives at least along the periphery. When our neighbors follow our example, swath-by-swath we may begin to restore the ecosystem we’ve all but destroyed.

It’s as clear as a sunny fall day that what Julie wants more than anything is for everyone to get outside and to have a garden to feel completely at home in. To that end she offers all the assistance she possibly can – from a range of design services for every budget, to an iphone/pod/pad app that’s way more fun than a piece of blank grid paper. (Believe me, I bought it and can’t stop moving patios and paths around my yard.) And her book, Home Outside: Creating the Landscape You Love is the confidence-inspiring blueprint that takes us through the creative process step by step.

Have you been able to channel your inner Julie* to create the garden of your dreams?

(*credit for “channeling your inner Julie” goes to Julie Murphy Christina)

It’s a challenge to keep a vegetable garden productive and handsome into the fall. Cool nights set back and do in the hot season crops like cucumbers, beans and summer squash. Tomatoes are slowing down – the ones that weren’t destroyed by Irene, that is. Over the last 2 weeks, Blithewold garden volunteers – the Deadheads and Rockettes have put in extra veg-garden time harvesting the late season bounty. – With tomatoes and the last of the cukes, beans and endless kale, we have gone well over 700 lbs. in total donations to the East Bay Food Pantry! Personally, I’m shooting for 1000 lbs. before winter kicks us out of that garden.

And winter is going to have to push hard. We have invested in row covers and seeded down spinach, lettuce, carrots and turnips. And of course we still have Brussel’s sprouts and those lovely cabbage (and endless kale) to look forward to. Gail and Linda also planted our first ever garlic – because we’re already thinking about next year.

The garden looks – I hesitate to say it, but it’s true – better than ever. The cabbages, like I said, are spectacular; the kale is excellent and even the artichokes have sent up a new flush of sterling-silver foliage. Freshly prepared rows are dusted with seedlings – such a hopeful thing! And along with harvesting, the volunteers spiffed and weeded the whole garden. We wanted to make sure that everything would be as gorgeous as possible for the Fall Family Food Fest (The One Day it’s OK to Play with Your Food!) this Sunday.

In addition to all of the activities associated with that event (like gourd juggling, sushi rolling, and Mr. Potato Head making) our good friend Pam Gilpin will be giving a slide show on the amazing not quite invisible world of garden insects (at 11am in the mansion). Her pictures are truly incredible and a little alarming. And Blithewold’s own Dan Christina will be leading one of his famously fabulous tree walks (at 2pm from the Carriage House). The forecast for Sunday is only gloomy if you decide to stay home instead.

How’s your vegetable garden? Are you celebrating a fall food fest too?

With Helen Dillon, whether you read her books (the latest is called Down to Earth with Helen Dillon) or hear her speak you know right away that she only tells the absolute truth – particularly when she’s talking about her own garden. If you’re not already a fan, Helen Dillon is a gardener and garden writer from Dublin, Ireland (originally from Scotland). She reminded us that Ireland falls along the same latitude as New Foundland and although the climate is much milder, the sun is just as low. She mentioned taking Graham Stuart Thomas around her garden on an “ugly August day”. Thomas she said, was not a fan of strong yellows and it wasn’t until she met Christopher Lloyd that she realized there can be more than one opinion on the matter. Now she knows that “yellow is so luminous. It lights the place up.” But she’s “gone off” dark purple.

Aren’t we all fickle? Over her 70 years as a gardener (how can that be?), Helen has formed plenty of her own decided opinions. And is as unapologetic about changing her mind as we should all be. She has taken out swaths of lawn and replaced “80′s looking” gardens (bit of this, bit of that; one of everything) with a gravel mulch garden full of self-sowers in the front of the house, and a limestone (bluestone) surrounded pool between her famous borders. She planted a grove of birches in her front garden because, says Helen, “I never don’t love birches.” And she has added blues (among other colors) to the red border and reds to the blue border because they were becoming like overworked paintings. She lately wrapped a “smug” cherub sculpture in barbed wire before deciding to remove it altogether. There’s no reason to be overly sentimental about anything in our garden that we don’t still love like we used to.

Her advice on plants was just as much fun. Try arranging teasels after they’re dead – simply cut them down and replant the stalk in a deep hole. – Because why not create an allay of teasel for the winter wind to whisk through? Put sun loving plants like agapanthus, Casablanca lilies, and tall alstromeria – not the squiffy short ones -  in pots (she uses “dustbins” and big black plastic containers with handles) and move them in an out of the garden as they bloom and fade. She may have “gone off” boxwood balls but says that if you want to topiary a holly tree (hers is mushroom shaped) it’s very quick and “you could have a go this afternoon.” She only allows beautiful plants in her garden and considers Sisyrinchium striatum ‘Aunt May’ to be the ultimate of all plants not to grow because most of the time it looks neither alive nor dead. On the other hand, she’s keen on ubiquitous candytuft (Iberis sempervirens) because you only ever need to buy one packet of seeds and after blooming the green seedheads are just as pretty. I’m sold. But then anyone who thinks that the rudest thing to say about a garden is that it looks “manicured” has me at hello.

Have you met Helen Dillon yet in person or through her books and articles? Do you let yourself be as opinionated?