For several days I have been fretting about this blog post.  This particular blog post-my thousanth.  What would I write about?  Granted this blog is a journal of sorts, about the day to day, or what is on my mind.  Or some design issue or plant I think might be of interest.  But should the thousanth post not be special?  I had been fretting about it for going on a week, until I had an email from Gretchen. Second from the left in this picture, she wrote that she had been reading the blog for a long time, and had even gone back to read every post all the way back to the beginning in April of 2009.  I was astonished that she had read just as many posts as I had written.  She wanted to tell me that she and 3 gardening friends had decided on the basis of that reading to come and visit the shop.  They would be travelling from Winnetka, Illinois-would I be available to meet them?

Of course we would meet them.  I gave them a tour of both the front and the back of the house.  They looked over my library.  We exchanged thoughts about favorite gardening books.  Anne asked if I knew the plant the English call cowslips.  I had Rob look up hogweed-it is indeed the same plant.  How is it that a plant could have such a graceful common name in one gardening world, and such a threatening one in another?  Where gardening is concerned, there is always a lot to talk about.

This Chicago group of four entertained themselves-and all of us-for better than three hours. I am sure they went through the entire place at least three times. Sue kept reminding everyone that they had plenty of room for anything they wanted to take home with them.  There was a lot of discussion about who liked what and why.  I was interested in what everyone liked the best. 

Gretchen was especially fond of the sundials-I have the feeling she is very serious and passionate about the garden.  I told her I was having trouble picking a topic for that thousanth post.  She immediately suggested I write about their visit.  I loved the idea. I did not know why, until I had some time to think about her suggestion.  

Measuring up in writing, or second hand-a ridiculous endeavor. My most favorite actor-Donald Southerland.  He measures up, via his films.  Would I like him if I knew him personally?  Maybe, or maybe not.  But every design relationship depends on what happens, face to face.  One gardener to another.  Is it possible to forge a relationship over a pot full of baby tears?  This pot-Margery’s favorite.  Subsequent to meeting her in person, I would say yes.  

Another favorite-the salt glazed Errington Ray pots with lemon cypress, violas and white alyssum.  This Chicago gardener spoke for three of them.  I liked her choice.  All four of them put me instantly at ease.  It was as if we knew each other.  In a way, we do know each other.  Via the writing.  And now, there is the face to face.  Did I arrange that?  No.  They got in their car, and came over.  They made a big effort to get to me.  They thanked me for the big effort I have made to get to them.     

Gardeners come from lots of zones, states, countries and communities.  I have yet to meet a gardener that did not interest me.  They have stories to tell, interests.  Those relationships enrich my gardening life.  There are so many common bonds.  The plants.  The weather.  The design.  The seasons.  The dirt.

Each member of this group has a life to which I am not privy.  But we have lots in common, given that each of us gardens.  There are new relationships there-given our face to face meeting.  Now I know the names, and have seen the faces of a few of the people who read what I write.  As for the thousanth post, I realize it is not the writing that deserves any attention on the occasion of the thousanth post.  What matters the most are those gardening people who are reading.  I understood from Gretchen that no one writes without asking for a reader.  She is right-I did ask her to read.  Everyone who reads this blog inspires me to write.  Many thanks to all of you.  And special thanks to you Gretchen.  I am so very pleased to have met you.  And I am especially appreciative that you designed this post for me.

I am reluctant to have plants at the shop too early in the spring.  As Rob has said, it takes mother nature a long time to make up her mind to commit to spring.  I hate to see plants damaged by frost.  We do have a green space of sorts where we can stash plants during inclement weather.  I cherish that glass roof. It makes reference to the living and the breathing that is the heart and soul of a garden.  Sun streams through the roof.  We sawcut and removed the concrete floor adjacent to 3 of the walls. We planting creeping fig at the base of 2 of those concrete block walls 10 years ago.  These green walls are lush and thick year round, and provide a green backdrop for the plants we house there year round.

Plants and water-we felt these two elements were an essential element of any garden shop.  We tore the midsection of the roof off the building in this room.  It sat exposed to the weather for 3 months, until we found an old used Lord and Burnham greenhouse for sale.  I remember watching rain falling inside that room.  The floor was greasy and slick from years of cutting oil that lubricated the machines bolted in place. The rain puddled on the floor, until we shotblasted that surface clean.  A steel storage tank that held waste oil was pumped out, and filled with sand.  A built-in concrete wall fountain designed after a French original sits on top of that old tank.  Eventually we set the peaked roof and hip of that greenhouse on top of the existing flat roof.  The room was flooded with light.  The exposed steel H-beam is a strong visual reminder of the industrial history of the building.  The glass roof still has the original old chains that open the vents.  I would not call this a conservatory-that would be laughably overblown, and altogether missing the point.  It is an old factory room repurposed such that we can shelter plants.

I am sure I have talked before about the purchase and reclamation of this building.  A good portion of it was built in the 1920’s-the rest in the 1940’s.  But that protected green space is much on my mind now, given the weather.  I have been uneasy about the unusually early warm weather-uneasy enough to be sure I had a giant roll of floating frost cover on hand.  A frost warming last night, and a freeze warning for tonight makes me glad I have it.   Yesterday afternoon we brought almost all of our plants indoors in anticipation of a threat of frost last night.  The glass house is stuffed with plants-hellebores, primulas, rosemary, ivy, myrtle topiaries and so on.  Ordering in plants in the spring can be dicey; that room has my back right now.  Most of our pansies are still outside, under steel plant tables covered in several layers of row cover. All of the espaliers are under cover, in the garage.

None of the plants in that space are rare but for our Wollemi Pine.  It is a small start of the rarest of all trees.  Only one stand of about 50 trees in some undisclosed location in Australia is known to exist. I bought a seedling propagated from an original tree from the Brooklyn Botanic garden 8 years ago.  The sale of these seedling trees goes towards protecting the habitat of the original trees. I like that it lives and thrives in our glass house.  The other plants we have you might well expect to see for spring, or perhaps they are unusual in commerce.  But what really makes them different is that they are very well grown, or in large sizes as in a 25 tear old lemon tree. Or that we created a space so we could properly look after them in stormy weather.  We will haul our usual standard spring plants in and out as often as we have to, until the night temperatures are reliably friendly. 

In the same vein, there is nothing about this standard issue old concrete and steel factory that is of any particular architectural interest.  The renovation and repurposing of an old building-our own showstring version of urban renewal-isn’t particularly newsworthy either.  Lots of people do this.  But standing in that glass house this very cold March morning, I felt such relief that we were at least able to protect some of our plants.  I cannot do a thing about my Galaxy magnolia in full bloom which will possibly be subjected to 25 degrees tonight.  If every flower freezes and falls tonight, there will be the ordinary heartbreak that is part and parcel of a gardening life.  But I could hardly sleep last night, worrying that gardeners in the northeast are facing much more seriously damaging low temperatures overnight tonight than I.  Godspeed, all of you.