You are here: Home / Search for "Latest updated CDCP Test Topics Pdf Spend Your Little Time and Energy to Clear CDCP exam 🌗 Open 【 www.pdfvce.com 】 enter ➤ CDCP ⮘ and obtain a free download 🔊Test CDCP Assessment"

Search Results for: Latest updated CDCP Test Topics Pdf Spend Your Little Time and Energy to Clear CDCP exam 🌗 Open 【 www.pdfvce.com 】 enter ➤ CDCP ⮘ and obtain a free download 🔊Test CDCP Assessment

The Holiday Mantel

 

I have no idea where the tradition of decorating a mantel for the holidays came from.  Perhaps people gathering at a cold time around a roaring fireplace made the fireplace mantle visually important.  Everyone knows the chimney is Santa’s portal-why not make it festive?  I do know that the fireplace mantel is an ideal place for collections of all kinds.  Small objects that need an elevated shelf to be seen, objects of personal or family importance-a mantel can be home to all manner of objects that please, or represent a point of view.  My mantel at home changes whenever the mood strikes me.  There are times when it is empty, and times when it is piled high.  But however you treat your mantel at the holidays-formally or traditionally, as in this mantel-there are construction issues.  

A mantel is a very long, and very shallow space.  It is but one shelf-there are no changes of level built in.  A holiday garland whether fresh or faux weighs plenty.  How to keep it on the mantle and off the floor comes first.  In this case, four very heavy bronze candlesticks provide an anchor for the garland.  Not interested in candlesticks on your mantle?  Drive a series of small brads into the wood mantle surface near the wall, or in the wall.  Appalled at the idea of driving nails?  Lead weights, or bricks can anchor your display, and be invisible.    

Sometimes a holiday mantel calls for a holiday expression on the wall above it.  I find I focus much more on the white rectangular space above a mantel, than the mantel surface itself.  If there is a print, painting or mirror above that mantel, perhaps it could be included in the mantel treatment.  These clients have a considerable collection of native American art-the magnolia and pussy willow holiday medallion was designed and fabricated in that vein.   


The designer Ann Heath, whom I greatly admire, told me just a few weeks ago that she likes holiday decor on the mantel that does not trail to the floor. A horizontal expression-only. I have this idea under consideration.  This holiday mantel treatment is very formal and low key-much like the room. I did the mantel surface only-no trailers.  The picks and pieces are secured to the mantel via 3 coulter pine cones.  Coulter pine cones, the largest, and most certainly the heaviest of any pine cone on this planet, are the ballast for this display.  Faux white pine picks take easily to cut stems of German boxwood.  Bark ornaments and pearl ball clusters weigh next to nothing-the stiff bristles of the white pine help hold some elements aloft.  My recommendation for mantel decor-build up to some height.  Come out away from the wall.  A mantel decoration may be long and thin, but it should be as three dimensional as you can manage.  

Pine cones look like they belong on the mantel.  They are just one of many of nature’s beautiful objects, but they shine in the winter months.   I collect them from the park next door; I buy them from Oregon, California, and North Carolina.  Their shapes are beautiful-no matter the evergreen from whence they came.  The story and the science of the production of cones-astonishing.  The science aside,what gardener does not recognize them as naturally beautiful objects asking for a holiday home.  The more, the better.   

I have in my mind’s eye a mantel overflowing with cones, seed pods, fresh greens, grapevine, bird’s nests just collected once the leaves fell, rose hips, grasses, twigs, bracket fungus-the mantel that is the forest floor.  But there are those who have a different point of view.  Lime green glitter net, lime moss, purple anodized wire-stars from gold wire wesh-this mantel is a smart and sassy holiday dress all my client’s own.  She chose the materials.  From what I know of her, she has a holiday mantel distinctively all her own. I admire the effort anyone takes to express themselves.

Not everyone has a limestone mantel and fireplace surround.  But everyone has a home and hearth worth celebrating.  Get dressed-it’s the holidays.   


No matter how or how much or why you garden, you have something to say all your own.  The holidays are inviting you to speak your peace.  I will be lucky to get the house decorated before Buck and I celebrate our Christmas on Christmas Eve.  But I will give what I have to see that we are ready.  The mantle-what I will do do this year, I have no idea.  No matter-I am looking forward to it.

Posted on: December 6, 2010 4 Comments
Filed Under: Holiday Tagged With: , , ,

Day And Night

Though I designed and planted this landscape, and did the outdoor holiday display some years ago, it still is one of my favorites. I like how it works in the winter. The shortest day of our year is looming; soon it will be dark before 5pm, and not light again until 7:30 the following morning.  14 hours of dark in a 24 hour period is the second most daunting aspect of a Michigan winter.  The most difficult-the endless number of grey days, one after another.     

It does not necessarily follow that what looks great during the day looks just as great at night.  I have had occasion to work with some really talented landscape lighting professionals.  They manage to design lighting for the evening hours which is soft, engaging and believable.  I have no gift for this whatsoever-I cannot stop longing for the dawn, daylight and dusk long enough to put my best foot forward in the dark. A great lighting designer can make a huge impact on a Michigan landscape.  I do love holiday gardening, and I have the sense to incorporate the materials Rob buys.  I can be assured of a good look at night.   

This year he bought birch stems that were wrapped vertically with lights, and then flocked with some concoction that was barely a reasonable approximation of moss. The winter was looming-I bought in.  During the day, those mossed branches looked fine-provided you were better than 5 feet away.  Some very very tall faux red berry stems added considerable interest. But my favorite-the light covers.  Some company manufactured frosted plastic spheres in green and red. Slipped over a mini light, they glowed.  Weatherproof holiday ornaments of foil spheres wrapped with grape vine wired to the evergreens in this arrangement-a Christmas tree of a different sort.  Though these Belgian wood planters were a long ways from the road, they read.   

The night time version of these holiday was just as strong.  The lit mossy branches glowed-every one of these mini lights had moss flocking.  The light covers diffused and spread the light.  These small lit spheres cast a glow in strong contrast to the dark, the dormancy, and the snow.

Glowing spheres, ornament, and cut evergreen branches dusted with an early snowfall-I’ll take this. The coming of the cold, the garden going down-what gardener adjusts to this very easily?  But the holidays have some very good things built in-friends, family, celebration, tradition, innovation-did I say celebration?  The seasons changing-I would not trade this for anything.  The process of change does not appeal to me much.  But once I am forced to move on, I like that I have options for the garden.  

This landscape dusted with snow-this is what I like about it.  The frosty stone on the house never looked better, than right now.  That texture in the vertical plane, and the texture of the boxwood in the horizontal plane-a good relationship.  Those lit moss-flocked branches, the light covers,  and the lights in the garland-substantial.  A landscape endowed with lots of visual interest-these landscapes I fall for.  


Every gardener across this country is thinking about how to express the holiday day and night.  I like being just one of many.

Posted on: December 11, 2010 2 Comments
Filed Under: Holiday Tagged With: ,

Watering Cans

The word icon has broad and diverse meanings. I will not be discussing most of them, as I would be instantly over my head.  But Rob’s collection of vintage watering cans which came off our container first up has me thinking about garden icons.  The transport of water, via a vessel, from a source to a plant in need, defines the first watering cans. Known as watering pots, documentation exists from the 17th century.     

All manner of designs shapes and sizes of watering cans came to be manufactured.  I imagine very early vessels were made of sewn and waterproofed skins-I have no knowledge of the history-this is just my imagination talking. But later versions involved a holding tank, a spout, a handle, and a rose-forged in metal.   

I have no love for watering with a watering cans.  Any metal can that holds and transports enough water to do some good weighs a goodly amount empty.  Should you not know, 2 gallons of water weighs 16.5 pounds.  So add to the weight of the can to the weight of the water.  Five gallons of water weighs somewhere in the neighborhood of 41.5 pounds.  41.5 pounds-this is how much Howard weighs.  Would I want to carry him from the spigot across the deck and down the stairs to my planter box-no.  No. What watering with a can  involves in sheer weight-daunting.   I vastly prefer a great and long hose.  But the cans are a gardening icon-I would not think of doing without some.   

This vintage can sports a handle at the top.  If you have to carry a heavy load, the hnadle in this spot makes good sense.  The handle at the back-a necessity once the work evolved from the carrying phase, to the pouring phase.  This can needs a hand to carry, and a hand to defy gravity, and tip the spout down. Two hands on a tool brings a much greater level of precision to bear. When I try to handle a watering can with one hand, I either miss the mark entirely, or blast the plants out of the soil.  But as much as I hate to carry water, I would have this can.  It is a gardening icon.  What better symbol for a gardener exists, as an invention designed to fit  human hands that permits watering in a time of need.   

There are plenty and varied definitions of gardeners.  Some fancy, some laborious, some silly-some miss the mark entirely.  I cannot pass by a plant in need of water.  This makes me a gardener.  Do I water with a gardening can-not usually.  But I do indeed have one-it is a symbol of my committment.  I like my can, more for its iconography, more than its use.


In the nineteenth century, the Haws watering cans moved the handles from the top, to the back.  Thbis makes one-handed watering a distinct possibility, should you be really strong and able.  That swooping handle may be eminently functional-but take a look -it looks beautifully graceful.  A Haws can-this shape and volume implies moving a lot of water efficiently.

These English vintage cans-each one has the dings and dents and out of round detail that documents their history.  But they still hold water perfectly.  The handle is an invitation to take hold.  Put your hand confidently anywhere on this handle, and water away.     


Some cans-who knows what fluids they meant to disperse.  This very beautiful can holds plenty; the short spout without a rose implies a delivery which is a torrent.  Watering cans are usually outfitted with a rose.  That rose converts a torrent to a sprinkle.  No doubt, I would sprinkle my plants-not blast them out of the soil, given a choice.  I will admit I have a collection of watering cans, none of which I use to carry water.  If I fill one with water, the chances are good I will put cut flowers in it, and think about the garden.

Posted on: February 21, 2011 1 Comment
Filed Under: Landscape Design Tagged With: , ,

Flambeau Finials

 In one of their garden ornament auction catalogues published nearly a decade ago, Sotheby’s offered a pair of early twentieth century stoneware lidded urns.  The cataolgue description was as follows: “each lobed body with boldly modelled ram’s heads beneath egg and dart moulded everted rim, and flaming lids on rising circular foot and square base, stamped A Brault File, Choisy-le-Boi.”  Flaming lids?  This alone was enough to make fall for them.  More formally speaking, a flambeau is a torch, or flame.  As a decoration, a flambeau is a flame shape; one sometimes sees these flames springing from an urn, or finial.

The flame was often used as a decorative element in antique urns and finials.  This Coadestone lidded urn has the date 1795 stamped into the base.  The word finial comes from the latin-finis, or finish.  A garden finial is a sculpted ornament that terminates or finishes some architectural element, such as gate piers, or fence piers.        

This quartet of cast iron finials auctioned at about the same time are late nineteenth century.  Voluptuous in shape with fluid and gracefully rendered drapery, the flaming lids look more to my eye like some fabulous hairdo.  At 49 inches high, they are not for the faint of heart.  Even the color is spectacular-for all the world they look like they had been painted with aluminum or silver paint.  It would take a garden of considerable size and self assurance to take take them on.  Though I cannot imagine placing them, I would have them in a heartbeat.  They are rowdy, and outrageous.  Gorgeous and elegant.

Happily, a pair of antique English sandstone flambeau lidded urns arrived on this container.  They were of a size and age that made careful crating necessary.  A good bit of the cost of any garden ornament is the expense associated with the shipping.  In this case, a piece of furniture needed to be built to get the pieces here safely. 

My flaming lids are carved in a similar fashion to the aforementioned French finials, but in a less refined style.  This pair of antique English sandstone flambeau finial urns came originally from a Victorian manor house in Derbyshire, England, in Chatsworth House county.  Afficianados of anything English are familiar with Chatsworth; it is a  much celebrated and admired garden.   

The handles are very large, and simply carved from a single piece of sandstone.  Small chips on the sharp edges of the stone consistent with its age reveal the original ochre color of the stone.  The shape of this finial, the handles and long narrow neck bring to mind the shape of an amphora.  From the Greek, “amphi”, meaning on both sides, and “phoreus”, referring to the handles by which the vessel would be carried.  This is strictly my imagination at work here.   
The body of the finial is unexpectedly, and beautifully fluted.  All five foot 6 inches of the stone rests on a waisted socle and circular foot.  The stepped square base at the bottom is generously proportioned and thick.

Statuesque comes to mind.  I find the simple shapes and proportions very pleasing to the eye.  Though massive and heavy, I could see these finials fitting into a landscape quite gracefully.  I could not be more pleased to have them. 

 I did not post this picture of a capodimonte porcelain lidded urn solely from worry that this essay might be making you sleepy.  If you look at the picture, and squint your eyes enough so the cherubs and surface decoration fades, you will see the flame finial and this urn share certain common elements.  They could not be more different in material, surface, effect, size, color, texture and purpose-but they do share a certain something.      


I have given them a special place at the front door.  I think the 1920’s stained glass doors set off my flaming lids quite well, don’t you?

Posted on: February 26, 2011 2 Comments
Filed Under: Garden Ornament, Detroit Garden Works Tagged With: , , ,