Ringing in the Year

Introducing Laura Belle & Bellflower

Bellflower (Campanula) This bell shaped beauty boasts enchanting clusters of cottage flowers. The perfect fit to tuck into perennial beds or bouquets. My favorite variety is the sweet Bluebell bellflower. Not only does the bellflower attract pollinators like bees & butterflies, but it also holds the symbolism of gratitude & everlasting love.

Clear as a bell are my childhood memories of Great Grandma’s home & gardens. On Saturdays, my dad would stop by to mow the lawn. That task had become difficult for Laura Belle, but she was determined to continue living in her cottage on 39th Street. A double lot—it was also home to a stand-alone garage and greenhouse. It was a magical place to explore—

The cottage gardens with Rhododendrons large enough to play house under and a manicured path of grass leading to the rose arbor clamoring with an old fashioned red rose (pretending to marry underneath). The specimen Blue Spruce that stood guard next to the driveway. And a greenhouse with decades of pots, watering cans & the occasional discovered creature.

Inside the house—a tall flour bin under the kitchen counter with red bakelite handles (the perfect hiding spot for a young great granddaughter), rows of canned fruits & vegetables leading down to the cellar, the grandfather clock ticking on the mantle in the cozy living room, the player piano at the ready. In the bathroom—the pedestal sink Laura stood in front of each Sunday morning when we picked her up for church. Her wavy grey hair reached nearly to her knees. She had never cut it, only trimmed, and worked each morning to pin it up in a tidy bun. She always finished with a rhinestone studded comb to keep the wisps in check. “Grandma we are here,” I would announce upon entering. “Land sakes alive, child. You startled me,” she would reply.

Laura Belle Livingston was born in Nebraska in 1885. At the age of 25 she married Roy and they eventually settled on a farm in Brush Prairie during the depression. A lover of plants Laura always had a generous vegetable garden along with apple & cherry trees. Then in 1940 Laura & Roy moved their family to their Vancouver home at 412 W. 39th Street. In 1942, they opened a nursery called Highland Florist, which she ran for 15 years. Grandma continued to rise early her entire life, cutting seasonal flowers to create the pulpit bouquet at church. Gladiola, Calla lilies, flowering branches, fern, holly— whatever had been gathered from the garden. Grandma’s independent streak has always spoken to me, as she continued to live alone in her cottage until the age of 94. Passing at an extraordinary 95 years young. “Old cloddy is a comin’”, Laura would say.

Ringing the bell to a new year, I reflect on my own clear chime. Belle Flower Farm is our home and business now. What began as pasture land—there was room for dreams to ring true. Giving our property a proper name was part of the plan for our homestead, which we broke ground for in 2000. Always open to a good play on words—my thought quickly settled on Belle Flower Farm. Creating our own bell choir of memories the hammer continues to strike with a song rooted in childhood observations, raising our family and of creating a home, gardens & business.

Belle Flower Farm—a place of gratitude & everlasting love.

Unwrapping Holiday Memories

The turkey platter is no more washed and placed back in the cabinet than it is time to bring out the holiday decor. Box after marked box, makes its way from the attic where it has spent the past eleven months. We are not alone in this treasured activity. Many years ago, I began organizing our holiday decorations by room. Each box with its label has a tidy assortment of collections of memories wrapped in tissue paper & tagged with its origin.

“Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas time.”

~Laura Ingalls Wilder

I recall my childhood Christmases the moment I unwrap the sweet glass angels with room for candles. They graced many a holiday table. Ceramic Victorian carolers painted by my mother in their unusual 1970s color palette. The set of joyful elves I unwrap each year and place on a stack of holiday books. My mother must have acquired them over 60 years ago, long before the Elf-On-A-Shelf phenomenon. A red felt stocking with “Pam” stitched by my dad’s cousin. (1 for each of the 3 of us). I still can feel the connection with my great grandfather Willie, with his addition of a Silver Dollar each year to its contents of simple treats.

“Family faces are magic mirrors. Looking at people who belong to us, we see the past, present and future.”

~Gail Lumet Buckley

A  number of treasures awaiting their unwrapping are less about my childhood, and more about remembering loved ones. A tiny sweet nativity, made of brown plastic & glitter is one of my most cherished family pieces. Given to me from my Great Aunt Alice, along with 2 porcelain ornaments. I remember her smile & kindness in wanting me to have something of hers. Holiday books over 120 years old from my mothers godfather,  Dr. John, reminding me we were all young once. Postcards addressed to both great grandmothers Laura & Olive, as well as Olive’s sister Raye. Holiday greetings from family far away, delicately written on the backs of the festive cards. I tuck then into nests, garland & amongst bowls of ornaments. Finally, a cherished lamb candle holder from my late friend, Alison. It makes me smile of our innate way of showing up in the same clothes for our lunches or picking up the phone to call each other at the same moment—it connecting without ringing.

“What is Christmas?
It is the tenderness of the past, courage for the present and hope for the future.”

~Agnes M. Pahro

A final collection of treasures are from my own sons childhood. The tiny clay snowman, pictures with Santa, the holiday plate & mug that held the Christmas Eve gift to Santa in the form of cookies, milk & carrots, holiday children’s books, and handmade ornaments—stars, snowflakes, trees, tiny hand impressions. The addition of ornaments collected from our trips, excursions & hobbies along the way—seeing the years unfold with each unwrapping—from Whidbey Is. to The Netherlands, New Orleans to DC, Chicago to Italy & everything in between. A time of late nights, secret wrapping sessions & tag decoding hints, Santa visits, Christmas light excursions, cooking, baking & matching pjs. The tenderness of the past comes flooding back & our new celebrations settle in that include puppy stockings, festive holiday parties & community service.

For me this is my Christmas morning. As I remove the tissue from each cherish object. It is the gift of seeing the faces of loved ones, of a young family & my own journey.

Pressed for Time

“The creamy Mille-feuille roses had arrived from Holland yesterday and been left in the warm kitchen, where they were opening like tulle ballerina skirts. The pale pink peonies were in the coolest corner of the shop downstairs so they wouldn’t go over…Every flower in the bouquet had a special meaning for the bride. She had known exactly what she wanted…”

~Ella Griffin

“She had known exactly what she wanted”—this intensional bride connected with my style. She adores flowers & knew what she wanted but had been at a crossroads with how to proceed with her dream wedding florals. Texts back and forth, conversations about what inspired her, what connections she had with flowers & a desire to go for her dreams. Within our chats she asked about flower preservation. As a gardener, florist & artist I was delighted to take their floral story full circle. She had wanted to capture her wedding flowers—a moment in time for a lifetime.

From curating the blooms with local growers & vendors, designing her bridal bouquet and their complete Wedding Floral Story—to dismantling the bouquets & deconstructing many of the single blooms, following their reception. The Calla Lilies took the longest. Pressed for time—patience was needed while I allowed them to take on a new form. The days came & went. Meanwhile, I ordered a lovely piece of linen mat board and sent a selection from 3 sustainable Walnut frames for approval by the couple.

One lovely evening I set up all the needed supplies in my art room. I began removing the pressed flowers from their dark compression pages—Dogwood leaves, Boxwood, Astilbe, Dusty Miller, roses, Snap Dragons, Love-In-A-Mist, Sweet Peas, Bachelor Buttons, Ammi (which is not only her name but the petals are the shape of a heart), and finally the Calla Lilies.
All a nod to telling their story. Their Love Story.

The low sun streamed in through the slats of the blinds. Dancing as the Rose of Sharon bush outside caught the breeze. What a beautiful time I had creating this art piece for a charming couple who took this journey with me. Composition developed with balance, texture, verticality & reassembling blooms I had dried in pieces. With the addition of a visual border I was pleased with my design. Tweezers in hand, I removed each flower & leaves and painted the back with archival glue and replaced one by one, not pressed for time. I am grateful for the experience—and I ended up knowing exactly what I wanted.

“In Victorian flower language, Calla Lilies symbolize magnificent beauty, and can also be used to express the sentiment of ‘I am yours.”

~Unknown

Our Belle Flower Farm commissioned Pressed Floral Art is an offering created by Pam Richey Curtis.

Great care is taken to use the highest quality supplies including archival glue, linen lined mat board, protective glass & environmentally thoughtful wood frames. Additionally, BFF offers Pressed Art Workshops in our studio.

Flowers were grown locally from Daisy Hill Flower Farm, Peterkort Roses, J. Foss Flowers.

Frame & mat from Aurora Gallery, Vancouver, WA.

Spring Cleaning

“Just whistle while you work
And cheerfully together we can tidy up the place

So hum a merry tune

It won’t take long when there’s a song to help you set the pace.”

— Philip Kelsall & Frank E. Churchill (Snow White, Disney)

A refresh was needed. 22 years of soccer, baseball, entertaining, travel, cat room & neglect.

Research shows us that visual clutter creates clutter in our minds. I had gotten to the point where laundry time was a quick drop & gather. Following our Mud Room remodel we had the usual leftover materials. A window in our contractor’s calendar, meant it was the time.

We have a convenient second floor laundry. But, over the years I have discovered the inadequacies. Lack of a tall closet for the broom/ironing board, cupboard for iron, steamer & cleaning supplies, sturdy flooring. Washing machine overflow protection was at the top of the list.

Our 3 week refresh turned into 5 months. Finding the opportunity to fill the back of my car with a week’s worth of laundry was a challenge. Baskets of laundry & my pocket full of quarters—I sang the tune of whistle while you work. (Without animated birds flying around me or wildlife helping.) It made me grateful for the ability to have clean clothing & home textiles once all was hooked up and operable again.

Our FROG, affectionally called The Dawg House, became the staging for the laundry room & hall bath deconstruction. An English Scullery was the inspiration. The tile choice was already made, as we had enough left over from downstairs. The addition of a sloped floor & drain would prevent any issues of water overflow. The washer drier stayed in the same location. With the removal of our original cupboard, this provided the space for the much anticipated broom/ironing board closet.

The start and stop of work was reminiscent of a load of wash going through its cycle. New/old scones added, drywall skim coated, cabinetry built and installed, wainscoting installed, marble chosen, cut & installed. Final stages included the plumber installing a new deep stainless sink. And my wallpaper friend arriving to hang our sweet English wallpaper & talk of puppies. Along the way—lots more painting.

I knew my English Country House Laundry Room had become the room I could enjoy “working” in. Filling the shelves with supplies and unwrapping the vintage pieces I had collected on treasure hunts. My final delight was hanging my great grandmother, Laura Belle’s wooden ironing board over the sink. I suppose it was originally set between two chairs next to the stove where she could heat her iron. Now, it is the perfect spot to hold my mother’s Cornishware pottery and favorite vintage finds. Truly, a sweet room to “whistle while you work”.

“When hearts are high the time will fly so whistle while you work.”

— Philip Kelsall & Frank E. Churchill

Hi to Hydrangeas!

Flower Meaning~Gratitude, Grace & Beauty

“I took the left path where the hydrangeas grew and sleepy primroses under woods, edged shady trees.
The empty stream ran quietly dry
with grass cuttings piling high.
If one peeped, one would find tiny creatures
To cast a sparkle here and there, a delight.
So on tip-toe, with sandals bent
Up high I reached to take
The plastic fairy as she twirled a pirouette
In a theater made by chance.
Reflected in a silver mirror intwined with ivy branch.
A mottled foal tend his dreams and Christmas robin chirps...”

— Mary Gay Kearns

Hydrangeas are a particular favorite of mine. My mind wanders as I count this lush & multi season flower.
The summer brings pure colors of blue, white & pink. Then as autumn approaches the warm soft colors of blush,
cream & sage. Each year the number grows—somewhere over 80 bushes at Belle Flower Farm.
There are differing options as to when to prune.

Each year my own process begins in late winter. The PNW often shares some much needed sunshine in February and March—the perfect opportunity to get into the garden and see what is waking up. The birds sing a song of hope for spring, the breeze sends the smells of evergreen and fires.
Spending time in the rhythm of nature.

Step 1:
One bush at a time, I like to set attainable goals. The larger varieties can take up to an hour. Gather the tools of the trade— sharp & clean hand pruners/secateurs (for me, they are “Lefties”), long handled clippers for thicker branches, container for clippings (I use a tall trash can to collect for composting), and a small rake.

Step 2:
Make your first pass, snipping old mop heads to the 1st bud node. Take out any dead off shoots from previous years blooms.

Step 3:
Clip out any old branches that have lived their life and are absent of fresh green bud nodes. Prune down to the base of the bush.

Step 4:
Clear out any old decayed branches & leaf litter from the center. Rake the base clear.

Step 5:
Take your last pass around the bush to shape into a pleasing height & width. Remove to just above a leaf node which will encourage growth. Do not remove more than 1/3 of the branch structure each year. Harsh pruning will result in minimal blooms, as several varieties bloom on last years growth. Step back and take joy in knowing you have begun the cycle of new growth in your garden.

Additional Tips: The success of garden Hydrangeas begins with planting. Best planted in a bed with morning sun, hydrangeas make amazing structure for the summer & autumn garden. Feed at the end of winter with 10-10-10 fertilizer. Add limestone early spring & mid summer by scratching into the base of each hydrangea to maintain pH of 6.-6.2 for consistent colors. Well drained soil and a fresh layer of compost are healthy additions.

Say “Hi” to our garden friends, the Hydrangea.

“Hydrangeas are the fairy tale flowers of the garden. With their big, showy blooms and delicate shades of pink, blue and white, they are like something out of a dream.”