Any holiday or page in a book set aside for expressions of gratitude is just the best thing ever. So I thought I should celebrate this Thanksgiving by at least attempting to acknowledge the the community of amazing people who make Blithewold Blithewold — everyone who keep this place so afloat that it practically flies. Most of them are volunteers.

The garden volunteers always get the lion’s share of my own personal thanks because they make my job infinitely easier and tons of fun, and the gardens infinitely more beautiful than they otherwise would be. (Without them Gail and I might still be trying to get June’s plants in the ground.) But an even greater number of volunteers work in the house, and more this season than any other. Without them we’d have to keep the doors to the mansion locked. That would be a real shame because thousands of visitors would miss seeing the entire house decorated – by volunteers – to illustrate Marjorie’s Grand Tour, Christmas-style. Aside from decorators, we rely on volunteer admission takers, shop keepers, raffle ticket sellers, phone answerers, tea makers and servers, and docents who immerse themselves in the history of the family and the house in order to better tell the story to visitors. There is even another group of volunteers working in the archives who dive in to Blithewold’s history head first. Without them none of us would have a clue how fascinating the family was. In fact, bits and bobs from the collection, things that Marjorie saved from her travels in Europe, are on display in every room.

I haven’t come close to mentioning everyone (the board of directors, committee members, interns, staff, — members, visitors, blog readers!) but as I go through Thanksgiving – and probably beyond — I’ll remember who I’ve left out. I just wanted to pass along how grateful I am to be a part of this community, doing work that I find wildly interesting. It doesn’t get any better.

Deepest thanks to all. And Happy Thanksgiving!

By the looks of a stubborn delphinium in the Rose Garden, I’m not the only one who would prefer to think of the winter solstice as the official start of summer. But winter might actually be here at long last. A cold blast over the past weekend froze the pond into a scattered ream of ice sheets. (Why does water sometimes freeze in rectangles?) The nicotiana and pineapple sage are finally, in the words of Miracle Max, “mostly dead”. And it really seemed like it was finally time to do the final cut back.

Gail and I went up to the Rose Garden today to trim the whips on the roses (we never do a hard pruning this time of year, rather a light cut back of the extra long canes so they won’t break in the wind or under a snow-load) and not only did we find that diehard delphinium but a lot of the roses are still budded and ready to bloom the next warmish sunny day. It’s almost as if they knew that the cold would be followed by more of the gentle weather we’re all getting used to. So we decided to let them be one more week. Some of us might prefer snow but I’ll definitely take roses for Christmas if they’re being given as a gift.

I’m actually still glad to have an excuse to continue doing the putting-the-garden-to-bed chores in stages too. I love having an excellent reason – besides taking pictures – to be out in the garden. A friend of mine recently remarked on how much she was enjoying the long fall because she was still willing to go outside. It’s true for most of us probably that once winter hits it gets harder and harder to convince ourselves that bundling up and going outside is a better idea than staying inside where it’s toasty, and there’s a kettle going on the stove… and we are already in our pajamas… But so long as the weather outside is comfortable (not frightful) we gardeners know we’ll find joy out in the garden.

May your holidays be joyful – inside and out!

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?)

Happy Valentine’s Day!

‘Tis the season for us to count our blessings. Here in the greenhouse, Gail and I count some of our blessings by the hundreds and have just added peace of mind to our list. Today electricians installed a back-up generator at the greenhouse!

As optimistic as we gardeners generally are – especially now when our collective glass is half full of the sun’s tilt toward summer – we are also prone to gloom and doom reality checks. Can’t we all play out worst-case-scenarios as competitively as a contact sport? For years now Gail and I have been able to clearly envision a cold night. A very cold night, well below freezing. White-out blizzard conditions and snow drifted to the eaves… And some time in the wee hours a limb snaps, or a car crashes and the power goes out. The temperature in the greenhouse, which is kept in the high 30′s to 40′s, falls fast… This is the stuff our nightmares have been made of.

Despite the fact that nothing resembling that nightmare has occurred in years, Gail and I have both woken, heart thumping in the middle of the night imagining the worst. We have had makeshift contingency plans in place over the winter involving the tent heater, a portable generator, and me on call to come out in my pjs and headlamp. Even in the best of the worst case scenarios, we still imagined losing most of our plants. And to lose these plants would be a tremendous loss for the gardens. But now, due to the generosity of donors who wish to remain anonymous, the gardens’ plants are safe and we can rest easy.

The official start of winter gives us the gift of optimism – Gail and I are so grateful to be able to keep passing it along by way of our gardens.

Happy Holidays!