I love flowers. I love them so much, I
turned my front yard into a garden. I had a white picket fence with
an arch installed and a landscaper design and plant perennials inside
and outside of the fence. I gave him free reign with only a few
non-negotiables. He had to include roses that climb the fence,
honeysuckle that will wind its way over the arch, plants that will
blossom at different times from spring through late fall so that
something is always in bloom, and lots of color. Oh, and low
maintenance. That was important because I have health issues and not
nearly enough time to keep up with a garden. I'm so glad I insisted
on that last point. While I've always loved working in the garden,
the advance of ankylosing spondylitis has put an abrupt end to that
endeavor. Fortunately, I have a neighbor who has
been doing an amazing job at keeping my front yard garden in great
shape. Thank you, Wendy!
In Erin's Children, my
forthcoming sequel to Kelegeen, readers will meet two
characters who love flowers even more than I do. Pamela and Deborah
Claprood are the daughters of the family for whom Meg O'Connor works
as a domestic servant. Their love of flowers leads them to set up a
conservatory in the back parlor where they can indulge not only their
love of gardening all year, but also engage more fully in their
favorite past time – the language of flowers.
Known as
floriography, the language of flowers has been around for thousands
of years but was especially popular during the Victorian era. Each
flower has a meaning. It was all the rage to send one
another messages through flowers, but it only worked if you were
conversant in the language. Pamela and Deborah are fluent. Meg, on
the other hand, being practical as ever, thinks it's ridiculous. “If
you have something to say, just say it” is her opinion.
I wonder what the Claprood girls would
think of my garden. Could they use cuttings from my garden to send
messages? What, indeed, does my garden say?
