I remember as a child being with my grandmother as she tended to her flower gardens. I can vividly recall grandpa's white spirea bushes cascading over the west terrace as you would pull up next to their house. I even still have the picture of my grandmother in the local paper sitting proudly amongst the tulips that filled the beds in the front of the house. Somewhere there is a picture of me as a toddler in a green and white polka dotted dress smelling the petunias that grandma planted in the containers by the driveway where she parked her fabulous pink Buick. I can still see the peony bushes and remember that one of my favorite smells was when the iris were in bloom.

The joys of gardening and the memories that it creates are important for me. Any stress that I have falls away the moment I step into the garden. What feels like work for many seems more like meditation for me. The warm sun, hearing the birds, seeing the garden transform and discovering what is new and colorful are often among the highlights of my day.

Being in our house for nearly seven years now (boy how time flies!) I feel my garden is starting to come along. There are parts of my garden that I love, and there are also parts that I loathe, but the challenge that gardening can create (one of turning clay into possibilities) is one that I happily accept. I call it my "work in progress" as I discover new things, recreate the successes, discover obsessions (especially my love for Hostas!!!) and learn from the disasters.

My favorite hosta ... upside down pineapple cake ... I just simply love him!

After a recent spring morning rain shower.