I love Gladys Taber’s writings. She so often expresses exactly how I feel. So it was today as I worked outdoors, pulling weeds and the seemingly hundreds of Rose of Sharon that have sprouted up here and there and everywhere, in stiff competition with the creeping charlie and garlic mustard. There is such a simple sense of accomplishment, isn’t there, in getting things weeded out?
The violets were everywhere, happy in their springtime glory, and they reminded me so of my mom, whose name was Violet, and how our girls picked them come spring and made little bouquets for her. I really must pick a few and bring them in to set beside the lilies-of-the-valley that adorn a vase, reminding me of Jennifer and Jason’s wedding.
As I fussed about, I caught the sweet perfume of Kezzie’s crab apple tree, which we planted last year in honor of her birth. We fretted about the Donald Wyman crabapple all winter after discovering a randy buck had rubbed his antlers deep into the slender new trunk. We are so thrilled that it survived such an invasion.
The Korean lilac is ready to bloom, though it will be a one-sided affair this year. Deer, yes deer, have eaten all of the blossoms off of half of the bush, leaving the other half to fend for itself. I rather painful lopsided affair, but, I guess half is better than none.
It felt good to work outside; snipping and pulling and smelling the scents of springtime, especially after a long week on jury duty, which I will tell you about soon. Until then, won’t you please enjoy Kezzie’s crabapple tree and a little of Gladys Taber’s wit and wisdom below?
“The first time I went to the Metropolitan Museum in New York, I was so overcome by the riches that I felt faint. I managed to
Kezzie's tree, a Donald Wyman Crabapple.
bear it until I got to the El Greco, and then I sat down trembling, and when I could get up again I went right down to the basement and had a pot of nice ordinary tea and a pedestrian, rather stiff, sandwich. For the truth there is a limit to how much excitement one human being can endure.
I feel the same way about May, when apple blossoms cloud the air, tulips and narcissi bloom, violets are thick enough to walk on, and the lilacs lean above the white picket fence heavy with fragrance. May would be a wonder, I think, with just one blossoming apple tree or one small white lilac. Or one violet plant with purple blooms and heart-shaped dark leaves. I would like to be able to play a lute and sit in the dappled shade and sing the hours away. However, I cannot carry a tune and the only instrument I ever could play was the ukulele, except for a brief struggle to master the guitar. So the music just stays in my heart.”
Gladys Taber, Stillmeadow Calendar, May, page 95
What a truly amazing writer, Penny! She strikes such a chord! Thank you, I shall delve into her work now 🙂
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Oh, Kate, Gladys Taber really was a remarkable writer and her words resonate still. Do look her up, when not searching for your telephone under the cushions and in the laundry. tee hee
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She is already on my “to be read list.” I love the scents of spring, the grass, the slightly wormy smell after a rain, and all of the blossoms. Our woods are full of honey locust trees. The sweet smell is almost overwhelming when you are among the trees. It is worth braving the ticks and gnats to walk among them.
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When you are checking out those used book bins, I hope you find one of her books, Janet. Oh, how I love your image of “the slightly wormy smell after a rain”. Yes. That is what it is. Those honey locusts must smell wonderful. We had a linden tree at our other house and when it bloomed it was intoxicating. The blossoms were white and smelled more fragrant at night. There I would be, silly girl that I am, late at night, standing under the linden, breathing in is fragrance. I miss it.
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Oh, the abundance of spring! I did enjoy this fragrant post, and the quote. Those deer are certainly both beautiful and damaging, aren’t they? I too have always loved Violets, especially as my mother’s middle name was Violet! – and it was your mother’s name. What a match we are!
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Thank you, Juliet. I think you would like some of Gladys Taber’s books. She is no longer alive, but had a reverence for nature and the seasons that reminds me of you.
Oh, they are. We have a love/hate relationship. All will be forgiven, if only temporarily, when we see the fawn scampering around come June. A match, indeed, with the Violets in our lives.
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What a great author/quote you picked to go with your lovely pictures. Did you know there is a Gladys Taber group which publishes a quarterly NL and has an annual meeting somewhere connected to Gladys – I believe Appleton, WI this year. Susan Branch mentioned it in Willard, her NL. I’ve been a member for a couple years. Usually go back and read all the Taber books I can get my hands on every couple years. I own quite a few. Wish I had kept the Butternut Wisdom columns.
It is not the deer I need to keep out of my flower beds, it’s the CATS! They’ve tipped over potted plants and lay in the middle of the pincushion plant, crushing it. I assume while enjoying the blooming plants you are being seranaded by birds as well. Enjoy.
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Thank you, Joyce. Yes, I did know about the newsletter and keep meaning to sign up for it. I must get to that so that I can start receiving them. I am on constant lookout for more of Gladys’ books and would love to get my hands on one of her cookbooks.
Ha! Cats can be pesty at times. Do you grow catnip? We are being serenaded by birds; the goldfinch at the feeder, a wren that is flitted about, the cardinals and happy robins. I can hear a Baltimore oriole, but, haven’t spotted him net. We see them every year, hearing the male first. They stop at the birdbath in front, but, are somewhat elusive. Life is grand.
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She is oh, so wonderful. Always.
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She is, Nan, she is. I wish I had all of her books, her words, her works. It is fun to share what we have here on our blogs, though.
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I love her comparison of being with art at the Met and the month of May. Swoon inducing stuff. Old books and dark moist earth, two smells I love. Thanks for reminding me of Gladys Taber.
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Isn’t it lovely? You say it so well, Teresa.
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What a great quote! It reminds me of you and many of your posts in here.
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Thank you, Janet. Isn’t it a great quote? I really enjoy Gladys Taber.
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