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Thursday, April 25, 2013

How Does Your Garden Grow? Mini flash cards & Hallmark doll card images


How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells,

and pretty maids all in a row



 
Spring has been an Ugly Duckling  in the north east.
 
 

 
And I have spent my time with seed catalogs and garden blogs. Making plans.


My Pretty Maid Hallmark Doll Card 1947
front

back
 
It is cold and raining but I don't mind. I am curled up with a cup of tea.  My father is on the phone discussing raised beds and vertical gardening. This is an old conversation and I recite my part, then listen to his voice more than the words.'"Drop three matches into the hole, add a little soil then the pepper plant. " 
 
 

 
 
"I'm gonna plant nasturtiums at the corner of the raised bed,"  I have  every spring since I was three when my great grandfather explained to me that  was where one put nasturtiums. "And marigolds of course."
"Of course," he agrees. "Don't forget a border of radishes will keep bugs from eating the tomato plants.  Can you get chicken manure or do you want  me to bring you some? "
 

Little Bo Beep Hallmark Doll Card 1947
Back 

One year my brothers spent a week shoveling fresh chicken manure for a local gardener.  I had pitched a fit at the pure unfairness that the boys got to spend the day at one of my favorite gardens, a garden with a tractor, while I was consigned to dance school.  Dance school, I observed darkly, was for prissy little sissy girls. That night I watched my exhausted, extremely fragrant brothers fall asleep at the dinner table, forks in hand. I thought about the new patent leather carrying case with the pink leotard and ballet slippers abandoned in the back seat of the Oldsmobile. Maybe dance school wasn't so bad after all.


 
 
"I'll buy a bag of desiccated manure at the nursery," I say. "Do you want morning glory seeds? I have a LOT. They grow like weeds here."
"Plant some to shade the zinnias," Dad replies. "You always burn up the zinnias." And he's right, I always burn up the zinnias. 

 
 
 
"If you don't want manure, what about shells. There are bushel baskets of them here." At one time it was common to see sun bleached shells used as a border in a flower garden.
 
"Sure. Yes, Dad, I'll take the shells."
 
 
 Cinderella Hallmark Doll Card 1947
Back
 
" I want some more lilac." I say. "I'm thinking about doing some cuttings."
"Well, here's what you do," he begins, and I listen closely because it is nice to hear his voice.
 
 

 

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells,

and pretty maids all in a row.



The Queen of Hearts  Hallmark Doll Card 1947

Back


 



I'm linking with the following parties.
 I hope you'll join the fun!

 
 
 
How Sweet the Sound
howsweetthesound.

Pink Saturday

Where my one of my favorite links last week was

http://connie-livingbeautifully.blogspot.com/2013/04/getting-rid-of-stuff.html

Here is a teaser picture from Miss Connie's post. This is a room I could live in!




I am also partying at


Lavender Garden Cottage

lavender garden cottage 

Where you can find a lovely post about
LCG's moon garden.






 


Saturday, April 6, 2013

Memoirs of an Eclectic Shorebird: Flight (Vintage Birthday Card images and Vintage Primer Pages to Share)



Looking back to childhood it seems that years are painted in broad strokes and moments in fine detail.
I grew up in a small town near the Atlantic Ocean.  Labor Day the sidewalks rolled up. From then until Memorial Day nearly anyone in town knew you well enough to yell, "Does your mother know you're doing that?" And then call her to report where you were spotted and what dubious activity you were engaged in.


We didn't do wild or dangerous stunts just for the sake of doing something wild and dangerous. Back in the day, parents taught  kids that doing anything  wild or dangerous was stupid. Stupidity being a punishable offense we avoided it.  No free passes were issued because of  injury. And frankly, nothing short of a severed limb was sending any of us home due to the ever present specter of Mercurochrome.   (If you don't know about Mercurochrome go ask someone over 45. Go ahead.)


So when I tell you that we neighborhood kids spent a full morning taking turns jumping off a  roof  you can be assured we did so with complete conviction that we were engaging in a safe and  reasonable activity for children aged six and seven.




 We kids spent a lot of time playing 'make-believe', and in the Spring of 1964 our imaginations were fueled by the Disney films  Peter Pan and Mary Poppins. These movies fueled our belief that flying was more probable than adults realize. This belief was especially strong after nearly being swept off our feet while walking home from school during that particularly windy Spring.



Our  ragtag band of neighborhood kids were in Walter's backyard, where many of our adventures began.  Walter's mom was busy with a infant and a toddler and less likely to check up on us that some of the other mothers. Also, the house backed onto what we called  'the woods' but was actually a series of wooded lots. The location lessened the chance of well meaning neighbors noticing what we were up to and calling one of our our parents parental interference.



We started low, leaping off a heavy duty picnic table, landing in the soft sugar sand that covers a great deal of  the Pinelands. Walter's Mom stepped out onto the back porch with an admonition to be careful - and quiet, as she was about to put the baby she was presently jouncing on her hip down for a nap. Careful to avoid whoops and shrieks (What considerate children!) we graduated to the nearby shed, a drop of less than six feet. Yes, this was more like it! By pushing off the edge of the shed with our feet and wind milling our arms  we sailed a good yard or more before gravity took hold.  All we needed now was to scrounge up umbrellas and find  a way up on to the garage roof.



Now, it just so happened that I'd recently acquired a pretty little buttercup yellow umbrella. Dashing into the house, sweaty and disheveled, I ran past my mother where she sat folding laundry. Snatching up the umbrella I was  immediately transformed into Julie Andrews aka Mary Poppins. After a couple twirls and swirls about the living room I burst into a tuneless yet enthusiastic 'Let's Go Fly A Kite'
and sashayed out the door and back down the street.

 
Now I remember all of this in a vague, gauzy sort of way. Wide strokes of the artist brush. But what I remember clearly, close my eyes and I am there  is looking up and admiring the buttercup yellow of my umbrella against the  blue sky, the scent of pine trees and warm sand, and sweaty children,  my brother, in a striped play shirt and green Toughskin jeans, hair Brylcreamed into place, poised on the shed roof, ready to fly.
 And then, mother's voice booming from the heavens, "Don't you dare!"  The voice of a goddess laying down the law from a front porch two yards away.

The head is tacked together just at the tippy top, and the 'elbows tacked to the corresponding spots on the card above (you can see the where white spots line up)



Primer pages to share



I'm linking up with
Beverly's Pink Saturday at How Sweet the Sound
and
Share Your Cup Thursday at Have a Daily Cup of Mrs. Olsen

Efforts & Assets Linky Party  -  at Hickory Trail
Please visit and join the fun!