My mother's people are gardeners. That's a post for another day - maybe when we are knee deep in a good old fashioned nor'easter. I made my living for quite a few years as a gardener - working on private estates, educational institutes, and small precious New England gardens. During those years I would bring plants to my mother that struck my fancy. She was always very gracious about my offerings and nothing was left unplanted.
I was wandering through her august garden this week and admiring her boxwood and european ginger - gifts that I had brought so many years ago, ones that have done so beautifully in her small manicured space. Enjoy.
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