Heirloombulbgirl

Tag: writing

  • The Rugged Dreamers

    Today is America’s birthday. 250 years of freedom.

    When I imagine what the word “freedom” looks like, I instantly think of this photo. Montana was once a world that existed vastly untouched and still just a territory. The mountainous environment was vast and sparkling clean. The human footprint had yet to interfere with God’s created beauty. Mankind stepped into this relatively unknown world, for brief moments, to simply taste the essence of ultimate physical freedom. There is a rugged beauty to this photo. Words cannot describe the majesty one feels in environments such as this. Maybe that’s why there is a bit of the rugged dreamer in all of us. We want to taste and inhale that incredible physical freedom of the photo. What a vast contrast to the modern world of the 21st century!
    Freedom looks different now.

    Freedom, when the word is dissected, is the ability to live without the constraints of the outside world or other humans. We celebrate freedom, but most of us don’t actually know what true freedom is. We can’t fathom what living *without* freedom even looks like. In many parts of the world, freedom is as foreign to them as the rugged mountain dreamers on horseback. Even as I type this little blog, I am keenly aware that some young women around the world are being beaten and killed for simply doing what I am doing…speaking my mind.

    Freedom, in the simplest form, is the ability to simply be. I can live as I want to live, marry whom I choose and have children, play and sing with exultation, worship the Lord and pray without fear….fear of being found out, disowned or even killed.
    Imagine that. Being killed for who you choose or not choose to love or the God you choose to worship.
    America was born so that someone like me is free. Free to write, free to grow things, free to love, free to speak, and the freedom to not say anything at all. I am free. I am that rugged dreamer on horseback.

    America, the home of the free, has had some incredible stories the past…the Western expansion, the Great Depression, World Wars, Ellis Island, the Pilgrims, the Civil War, 9/11 and so, so many more incredible moments in history. Each unique period has tried our character and tested our fortitude, but we have never lost our freedom. Americans, the rugged dreamers, have continued to desire to create a better future for their children and the next generations. Though we may not always understand each other, having different life experiences, in the end we are still free. For that, I will never cease to be thankful.

    May each of us remember what true freedom is.

    May we not get weighed down, and always hold on to that “rugged dreamer” inside each of us.

    May we be grateful and thankful for the freedoms we do have.

    May we pray without ceasing for those who don’t have freedom. Life looks very different for them.

    Happy Birthday America!

  • Sharing Beauty in the Small Spaces

    I love seeing beauty. All types of beauty. Whether it is a lovely storefront in a metropolitan city, or a whimsical heart created in the foam of my cappuccino. I love seeing the small spaces where people don’t “have to” create beauty, they simply do.

    I just got back from a very quick trip to Boston to visit my daughters. It was rainy and cold, but the window boxes were bright and sunny. I am always impressed with a creative window box. I’ve tried window boxes in the past, and it has been a skill that I don’t seem to have. I am now reinvigorated and completely inspired. I hope to create some lovely boxes in the Fall. I love how beauty is contagious.

    Beauty can be found in the ordinary. The simplest of gestures can create a beautiful piece of art. Small spaces become profoundly important to the soul. Tiny acts of kindness might seem trivial, but imagine a world where everything we did was simply to share beauty with others? There’d be no more trash in the sidewalk gutter for someone else to pick up, no more slum lords preying on the innocent or the penniless, no more pesticides harming the natural world and no more self-seeking greed. What a world it would be!

    I’ve always been drawn to little spaces, tiny bulbs or pieces of broken china or sea glass. Remnants of beauty that once was and that could be again. I think we all crave beauty, but in such a loud world it’s hard to locate our small spaces to share. Sharing beauty takes an intentional focus towards others. Moment by moment, we step aside ourselves to make the world better through the small spaces. Let’s face it, most of us will never be multi-millionaire philanthropists, but we all have the chance at creating beauty in small spaces.

    Happy gardening, my friends! Find your small spaces and share your beauty:)

  • Sometimes It’s Best To Just Buy The Book

    After 10 months of pure regret, I finally found it. I had the chance to buy the beautiful book in a delightful little bookstore in Cornwall, England, but no. I had to sit in my regret for 10 long months, pining after the book I should’ve bought. Searching endlessly for a book that had “beautiful flowers and drawings of wildflowers in Cornwall” (the only information I remembered about a book with an unknown title or author).
    I had *almost* given up the search until Amazon swooped in and saved the day. In my quest to save a penny while on vacation, I ended up buying not just one, but two gorgeous books…plus shipping and handling. I should’ve just bought the book while in England.

    I’m not materialistic. I like my simple treasures that I collect…heirloom bulbs and heirloom china, unique floral books and violin music books. I like old pottery bowls and flower pots too, but my husband thinks I have enough (which is quite true). After I lost my original flower book collection, I have enjoyed slowly adding back. My perspective on “things” changed. I must have meaning behind each item I purchase. Nothing frivolous can enter my home. In fact, each time I purchase something, the question of “Is this a necessity or just a frivolous find” enters my mind. Unfortunately, my love of thrift store shopping doesn’t have any kind of discernment. It’s all fun and fabulously frivolous. There is a hidden price tag for everything, whether monetary or a disapproving glance from my minimalist husband.

    So I didn’t buy the book in the quaint, little bookstore in England, which was a completely dumb choice.

    A book like this is more than a simple purchase. This book represents time spent along the beach with my Mother and daughter. This book represents chatting with a group of older Cornish women about their gardens and ponds, while sipping hot tea. This book represents the beautiful walks we took throughout Penryn and the countless little bulbs that grew right out of ancient rock walls. This book holds my trip to Cornwall close to my heart. I can now revisit this beautiful part of the world in in a moments notice. My soul is filled.


    Next time you have a chance to buy that special book that delights your soul, just do it.

    Just buy the book.

    You will never regret the moments spent reading a good book. Then go outside and dig. Digging is also good for your soul 🙂

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

  • Simple Pleasures

    Not much to see here… Just one of the greatest composers of the 20th century feeding pigeons in a park.

    When I think of Antonin Dvorak, pigeons rarely come to mind. I recently performed his masterpiece, the “American Quintet”. This quintet contained so much color and rich musical ideas, almost as if Dvorak was describing his experiences through musical words, directly to his listener. His expressions of life were rich, haunting and profound. There was no shallow thought in Dvorak.
    I wish I could say the same…

    I have found the distractions in our fast-paced, social media driven, frenzied world gets in my way on a daily basis. Instead of sitting and feeding the pigeons, taking time to simply ponder and think, I look at the dumb phone for notifications. I have been rattled endlessly with an overstimulating amount of nonsensical useless bits of information. Deep down, I don’t really care about keeping up with the Jones, but yet there I was..checking my day to day stats on my Instagram reels. Honestly, who cares if someone I don’t even know likes my little reel on my baby Oxblood Lilies I started from seed? Where’s the depth? Where’s the time to just sit and ponder? Where are the pigeons?

    So I deleted Instagram and Facebook off my phone.

    No more checking. No more reels. No more stats. No more trying to impress all the unknown readers or viewers. No more time suckers and no more brain rot.

    Just quiet.

    It’s amazing the difference I already feel. I actually have moments in my day to ponder and reflect. Heck, I might even put some piles of music away in the studio (let’s not get crazy!) I feel a sense of calm that I haven’t felt in a while. Let’s face it, trying to “keep calm and carry on” is virtually impossible when every second of every day is completely accounted for. How mentally exhausting! So for me, someone who desperately needs the simple pleasures in life, I started the elimination process with the first main distraction culprit. The dumb phone.

    My next goal is to get a watch. Again, let’s not go crazy. I am, after all, a product of my artist-Father who never checked the time a day in his life. Baby steps….

    Anyhow, love to you all. If you need me, I will be finding the time for the simple pleasures in life. I’m going to buy more bird seed today, hoping to woo some pigeons back to the Agape Haus Music Studio.

    Happy Gardening, my friends!

  • Saving the Gardens for Miss Margaret (part 3)

    There are a lot of meaningful endeavors in life, but saving Miss Margaret’s gardens is definitely one of my favorites. I’m honestly not sure why I’m so passionate about old flower bulbs, but the only way to explain it is that it’s in my blood. My Dad loved old architecture and old photos. As a child, my Dad instilled a profound understanding of preservation. A deep desire to save something that will be lost. When I see bulb foliage, there’s a sudden urgency to hop barbed wired fences with a shovel. My son even bought me a mini shovel to carry around in my car. I must admit, my little digging passion is just weird. I can’t explain it. I’m just compelled to hop that fence. I feel like an addict, desperately seeking my next fix of old rotting houses and “No Trespassing” signs. If I had a dollar for every time my family told me “We aren’t bailing you out of jail” I’d be rich. There are countless reasons why I shouldn’t do what I do, and only one reason why I should….the beautiful 100 year old Oxblood Lily bulb that I’m holding in my hand.

    She survived the Great Depression.

    She survived World War 1 and World War 2.

    She survived floods.

    She survived drought.

    She survived decades of love and care.

    She survived decades of neglect.

    She is a worthy preservation project indeed! It is hard to imagine the changing landscape that little bulb experienced over her last 100 plus years. Even if, for no other reason than antiquity, that flower bulb deserved to be saved.

    Just look at Miss Margaret’s lovely Oxbloods! Happy, healthy and preserved for generations to come.

    What became of Miss Margaret’s gardens? Well, that is a sad story for another day. Most of the bulbs were salvaged, the historic house was demolished, and the land became a cemented parking lot. I can still see the stained glass and the curled wooden staircase in my mind.
    If you are able to come to the Agape Haus Studio open house on Dec 20th, rumor has it that Santa left Oxblood Lilies for gifts for everyone! 🙂

    Happy Gardening, my friends!