Comments on: My Grandmother’s Garden

By: Five views of one path: Garden Bloggers’ Design Challenge | Cold Climate Gardening

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 20:58:02 +0000

[...] it is a bit extreme to say “Paths make the garden,” but ever since I was a child paths have been an emotionally significant element to my enjoyment of a garden. I didn’t [...]

By: Cold Climate Gardening » My Inheritance

Cold Climate Gardening » My Inheritance — Wed, 12 Oct 2005 23:19:21 +0000

[...] [...]

By: Kathy's mother Marie

Kathy's mother Marie — Sun, 10 Jul 2005 00:16:42 +0000

My mother and father bought that house when I was in college. We had always lived in rented apartments and to have our very own home was an impossible dream come true. The house itself had three doors, a basement, an attic – many places to go and many ways to get there. The windows over the kitchen sink looked out on the side yard.
Most of the property was to one side, and in the back as others have mentioned. The yard was divided into sections by a grape arbor that ran from the driveway to the neighbor’s yard. The section behind the grape arbor was a private area. The property came to a point in the back, already narrow at the cement chicken coop with paths on both sides leading to the final point where there were some wild berry bushes. A weeping willow on the front section was another grace note; a gingko hovered over the driveway near the side door. Both the house and the garage were close to the property line with enough space for yet another pathway.
Because it was spacious it was a good place for family get-togethers on both sides of the family. My mother’s father, Pop, lived with my parents and his birthday in the winter was the occasion of her siblings congregating. My father’s brothers and sister, neices and nephews, and occasional cousins came in the summer. My father had laid the bricks for the patio and the long special design fireplace. London broil was his specialty served on rolls with fried peppers. One of the uncles brought clams. Those gatherings were long remembered by everyone.
Pop lived to be 100 and was active in the vegetable garden till about 98.

By: Marianne Hardy

Marianne Hardy — Fri, 01 Jul 2005 16:08:49 +0000

Was the apple tree that produced three varieties not mentioned. I think of super soft grass, very cool to the touch.Oh everything that has been said and more.I remember picking berries and sitting down eating a bowl full with unsweetened yogurt. There was great mystery and intrique. There were distinct smells even from the garage. It seemed around every corner was a secret place and possibilities of new places to explore.And a cesspool lid that seemed more like an entrance to a dungeon. I can’t recall a single flower I have to admit but more like the yard was seperated into seperate places and it was as if each room had a different mood and a different story to tell with theWilliam Tell overture in the background( that’s probably overkill) but surely there was something about evry corner of that garden that evoked all our imaginations that as adult I too am trying to recreate the magic I found there and simple pleasures I enjoy such as berry picking may have originated in that yard

By: rosemarie hanson

rosemarie hanson — Wed, 25 May 2005 00:57:06 +0000

I went to Grandma LaFemina’s house with Gerry and Louise after Grandma O’Keefe’s funeral, and I can tell you, it was so much smaller than I remember it.
Does anyone remember mint? Marianne and I were at the farmer’s market in Watertown and both smelled some apple mint and thought it smelled like grandma’s mint. So, of course, I have apple mint growing in my garden now. I also have some 30 berry bushes, and several fruit trees planted, in an attempt to duplicate that apple tree, that my children will have something to climb (Henry gets his cast off in two weeks, by the way). My big question is, what were the cocktails that the men were drinking?

By: Jacqueline

Jacqueline — Mon, 23 May 2005 19:23:35 +0000

Thank you for sharing your heart warming story. I just recently became interested in gardening and I feel strangely pulled to try to recreate some of the same things that my grandmother(and her mother) had in their garden at their 100 acre Charleston, Maine farm. I have the hollyhocks and am now trying to find out what vine grew up and covered the porch. It had little purple flowers and came back every year as my mother remembers it. Thanks again. I enjoyed your memories so much. Sincerely, Jacqueline

By: Laurie Gano

Laurie Gano — Mon, 23 May 2005 01:09:52 +0000

What a very evocative description! I also love paths to hidden places, my paternal grandfather built a wonderfully mysterious path down a steep hill to the beach below their house on Bainbridge Island. Part of it was a tunnel through the thick bushes. However, my strongest garden memory is of the scent of snapdragons in my maternal grandfather’s tiny trailer park flower bed in Portland. I still love that scent.

By: Kathy Purdy

Kathy Purdy — Fri, 20 May 2005 12:34:30 +0000

There were two fig trees, one on each side of the back stoop. To my mind they were more like bushes than trees. The “stoop” was steps molded out of concrete with a half wall, sort of like a conrete handrail, integrated into it. When I first began voraciously reading garden magazines, I read an article about figs that made me realize they weren’t considered hardy in Grandma’s area, so I asked her about it. She agreed that they weren’t supposed to be hardy; she knew of other people on Long Island, but they grew there with no added protection from her for as long as she lived there. I guess it was the perfect microclimate.And yes, the back door did lead into the laundry room, a very cramped and awkward space that children were not encouraged to visit.

By: john

john — Fri, 20 May 2005 07:00:59 +0000

I too loved to explore the grounds and buildings, the cookouts and the cousins coming in the middle of the night and camping in the yard.

No one has mentioned the fig tree just outside the back door. But now I cannot think where the back door lead into? Maybe a laundry room?

I suggest that the next person who travels to NYC make a side trip with a video camera to re-visit the secret garden and give us an update. I am sure it is not the same but some of what we remember must remain.

The joys of a lost childhood. I cannot image giving my children the freedom to travel the yard and grounds like I had as a youth.

By: JOK/Dad/Granpa

JOK/Dad/Granpa — Thu, 19 May 2005 20:30:19 +0000

Continued
he was at the top of an 8′ stepladder pruning the vines. At that time he was 88 years old and arthritic.

Rob I doubt that you visit No Bellmore since the La Feminas moved to Arlington shortly after we moved to Manlius. The cookout menu also included baked fresh clams as well as Italian sausages and chicken. The “london broil” was vcery well aged slabs of beef broiled over charcoal sliced on an angle.,