Years ago Jonathon asked me to dream up a phrase that would describe my shop. As we are in a tiny industrial district way off the beaten path, I thought “dirty little secret” would both reference the foundation upon which all I do becomes possible-and furthermore would encourage people whose curiousity was sufficiently piqued, to seek me out. I try my best to have my three quarters of an acre ready for company every day. This wreath, a warm, plain, and beautiful Douglas Fir wrap around a cast limestone dog, is displayed in the front of the house. The back of my house, stuffed with holiday materials scattered all over the place, is another story. I know this is my second post about wreaths in a week, but these modest circles of green can so enliven your winter landscape-so bear with me. No need to confine your wreathing to your front door either-a sculpture, a pot, a gate can be dressed in a wreath. 
I am persisting with this discussion, as I think these modest circles based on green can endow a winter landscape with an impact vastly beyond their small size. They are a distinctly personal expression. My workroom is entirely given over at this moment to taking those green circles a few personal steps further-special orders. There are so many materials-both natural and not, that can be arranged, wired or glued on the surface. I have made a lot of them over the years; they are miniature gardens that go together fast. Rob meets with his clients; pictures of possible combinations follow via email. Helping people put things together that they like individually is a big part of the job.
The workroom, my dirty little secret , is home to the tools, the good light, and the space necessary to make things. My only wish for my life-to be able to make, and go on making. Landscapes, gardens, topiary sculptures, flower arrangements, paintings, essays-specific to a person, a time, and a place. Everything I make inplies the person out there. These landscapes do not take weeks, or years to put in place. Even a complicated arrangement rarely takes longer than an hour. The trick is having all the materials and tools at hand, and ready. The rest-trying out whatever strikes your fancy.
My workroom is not particularly fancy. A 4′ by 8′ painted plywood layout table holds all manner of materials and tools at a height that makes the work easy. Underneath the top is space for plans, rolled up and labelled with a client’s name, and date-some of which date back 20 years. Lots of flourescent lighting banishes shadows, and makes it easy for me to see the details. Every surface is put to use; if something is put away, I forget I have it available. I collect bits of this and that all year long, for the wreaths.
Shelves loaded with containers organize like materials-I need this level of organization, given that I am in progress with multiple projects. I hate searching for the ribbon scissors, so it has a home. Things have gotten a little out of control, but I resist the impulse to clean. I am so lucky to have a big space that needs no daily cleanup. At the end of the day, I just go home-the litter can wait until I have time to clean it up. This is MCat’s favorite time of year-so many things that have fallen to the floor to play with. Some days he finds a spot on the table to snooze.
I like loading the layout table with materials that speak to each other. I move things around, I add and subtract until I get a mix that seems to work. This can take a lot of time. Once I come to some conclusion, the construction phase kicks in. My industrial grade glue gun-an invaluable tool. I cannot stitch, sew, or cook, but I can glue. I also take things apart before I use them. One half a seed pod might work better than a whole one. Garlands and picks cvan be unwired, and their elements used individually.
The dried grasses, the oregonia, the bahia pods, the magnolia stems, acorns, the bark wire-all of these materials seem just right for clients for whom I mail out a slew holiday wreaths the Monday after Thanksgiving. They love all manner of natural materials-they trust my mix, different every year. I photograph them, so they know what gets sent.
The eucalyptus, acorns, magnolia leaves, pine cones and oregonia say hello and happy holidays to their friends and family. The jute bows are a new thing. Rob is so good at seeing the beauty of a raw material beyond its ordinary use. This workroom is a gardener’s junk drawer on a big scale. Once these wreaths are hanging on a door, who would suspect the happy mess from whence they came?
He spot lit certain elements in the room- the refreshment tables in the middle of the space for the sake of utility, and ornament on the walls, for drama. What he lights is balanced by what he keeps dim. He strongly lit the auricula theatres on the wall, so his forest stick and light orb sculptures would not throw them into harsh shadow.
Simple votive candles can put light right where you need it. In this case, lighting the garden at the floor plane also lit the underside of our old French fountain planted with ferns. Natural candle light instantly romances anything it touches. 
Some of Rob’s light garlands get another decorative element. Light cords are are an incredibly unnatural shade of green; I cannot understand why an olive/brown color is not an option. We do buy lights with brown cords for wrapping sticks or tree trunks. This garland has a weatherproof ball garland that gives the light a diaphanous quality. This is my idea of good garden jewelry. 
Large light fixtures on the wall of the shop subtly light the Boston ivy vines on the opposing wall; the intense light in the pots, and on the tuteurs bring the ornament into focus. 
The chartruese lights repeat the color of the moss, and add dimension to the light. The light emphasizes the sparkle and sass of the holiday elements.
This is Rob’s winter berried vine light garland. The olive plastic holiday balls wired on every so often add texture and color that looks great even during the day.
The linden is draped in his light rendition of spanish moss. The unseasonably warm weather we have had for the past few weeks has been favorable for outdoor installations. In years when the really cold weather comes early, this kind of work can be daunting. With the temperature at 57 today, it is a perfect day to dress a garden in light.
These commercial grade light strings have frosted bulbs; they produce a very soft light that is easy on the eye. 
Though the ball garland in this strand is silver, the color of the terra cotta pot in which they are installed makes a richly colored night presentation vastly different than the day look. 
Anything that transmits or intensifies the available light I find hard to resist. Michigan is one of those states with mostly cloudy days in the winter.
Though I shopped this past January for the holiday, and most everything was here this past August, I am never ready for what it really takes to change seasons. Have you ever? Even the corgis have that slightly appalled look on their faces. I am certain that the 10,000 square feet I have to deal with is secretly multiplying in the dead of night. It seems that everything needs to get moved-at least twice. Spaces have to be cleared-and of course cleaned-before they can be re-imagined. Sometimes it seems like my imagination will never ignite. When that everything involves stone, steel and lead, I have been known to daydream about being in the stamp-collecting business.
Rob likes everything imaginable in front of him all at once. The disaster that is his desk-loaded with messages, invoices, catalogues, notes, and all manner of other bits, spreads to the floorspace like a slime mold on steroids. This week he has been working away on the last of my leftover Halloween candy; the combination of his blood sugar level and his natural propensity to disorder defies description. Suffice it to say, I am living in a universe tending towards dissolution. 
The greenhouse fernery, so gorgeous a week ago, is now bulging with all those things that have lost their homes, and have no place to go. An impossibly delicate terra cotta pot with applied roses from Espace Buffon in Paris is one of a hundred fragile items crowding my office conference table. What floor space is still available makes walking through any room, objects in tow, nervewracking. Should anyone out there know of a small scale hovercraft rated for interior use, please let me know. 
The rear portion of the shop is a cavernous garage-at least it seemed that way when I bought the building in 1995. Today every square foot has something going on, and not in any particular order. The arrangement of boxes so neatly shelved and stored has become completely unglued. The corgis treat this space like a formula one course, fraught with hairpin turns and unexpected obstructions. Great fun for them-not so much for me. This space needs to be shovelled out soon, such that we have room for the crew and materials necessary to construct of all our winter and holiday decor. 
Progress has been made; certain big gestures are in place. Every box I unpack, I hope I remember what I was thinking when I bought ,works out. My idea of holiday has everything to do with materials and references to the garden. This part is simple. It takes a great deal of concentration to shop materials from 30 or better vendors such that you end up with a cohesive collection; this is only the beginning. Remembering what I had in mind over 10 months ago-even my notes don’t ring any bells. The materials pile up faster than I can do display; just this morning a semi truckload of twigs arrived. At this moment, the driveway is impassable. 
Next week Thursday November 12th is our deadline. We host an evening holiday preview and shopping soiree for our clients. Our 4pm to 9pm event ran until 11:30 last year. We serve a little something to eat and drink; lots of people come, and we have a great time. We aim for picture perfect, we are 6 days out and counting. I don’t see how we will be ready this minute, but somehow we will get there. Stop in, should you have a chance.