And when I set out to weed the old compost heap it led me to weeding in front of the barn door and then to picking up pieces of broken glass and plastic, which led back to the heap where I sorted and picked a whole lot of plastic and found a rich mix of treasures such as these:

Doesn’t everyone need a plastic three-headed monster? I know I do.

Who knows how they’ll look this afternoon when I see them again. It’s a strange thing to be walking through muggy New York streets while in my head I’m walking the yard, thinking about the smell of the white clover taking over the lawn, wondering if I should do as Crockett says and break up the daylilies this fall since they are only sparsely in bloom.

Somehow I don’t think that when I’m at the house this weekend I’ll be thinking about the crowds of NYU students on Union Square, the bus driver swearing at the minivan that cut him off, or the general abundance of filthy concrete. Now why is that?

The community garden plot was tilled under annually, meaning that everything had to be cleaned out at the end of the season, ergo no perennials. (Unlike my mother’s “allotment“, located in a park across from my old high school with an amazing view of the Edinburgh sky line and the annual fireworks display. It sports a greenhouse and she has planted raspberry canes, strawberries, and even small trees.)

All this to say that I have no experience with a year-round garden. Awareness of the extent of my ignorance dawned on closing day while walking around the yard and being shown examples of the dread poison ivy. I’m Scottish. We don’t have poison ivy. Why is it so innocuous-looking? With a name like that I expect something evil-looking, not something that might be something else, or might not, to which I might have a reaction, but might not, and which appears to be eating into three sides of the yard, but might not be. I get it now. The fear lies in its powers of sneakiness.

On to the giant bushy things. The leaves look a little like lilac, but I knew they weren’t lilacs (one point to me). What are they? Are they lovingly-planted bushes or are they agressive weeds? I tried finding them online and found this page showing foliage that looks similar. Ha ha! It’s Eastern Redbud, I thought. I’m very clever.

Just to confirm, I posted this picture for identification on the forum over at the newly minted, already fabulous A Way to Garden blog.

Within hours came an answer, complete with link. Japanese Knotweed is a “very aggressive species” listed in one book as “a noxious weed.” My gardening encyclopedia says that if planted in good soil it can take years to eradicate. Good lord. So much for the pretty Eastern Redbud.

I comforted myself with my ability to identify a peony, two small raspberry bushes:

and a whole buncha “weeds”.

As long as I can remember I’ve wanted to work on an old house and make it a home. Here, now, is the opportunity – I’m surprised and delighted to find myself in love with an 1848 brick and shingle farmhouse in the Catskills. It needs TLC; there are projects calling out for attention from every room and corner of the yard. I spent the weekend wandering from basement to porch to bathroom to wood pile; adjusting the water temperature, cleaning the sink, staring at a patch of mystery ivy (Boston or poison?!), starting my billionth list, sitting down in shock, and then making the rounds again. The thought of all the to dos makes me want to lie down.

Just when I was getting overwhelmed, the local welcoming committee rep. showed up and insisted on rubbing his body all over us, rolled over and showed us the gray spot on his chest, and when I walked away decided to climb my leg!

Thank goodness for friendly neighbors and heavy denim.

What was I doing 10 years ago?
Living in the Midwest. I was working in a gallery. I already had a studio and I think that was the year I participated in the town’s open studio day. Friends helped me hang Christmas lights and baked gorgeous cookies to offer visitors. I hung my first quilt on the studio wall. I was figuring out what I “should” be making.

5 things on my to-do list for today:
Nothing fascinating –
Answer a couple of emails.
Make jewelry.
Pay some attention to this blog.
Make a phone call about buying a car.
Wash them dishes.

Snacks I enjoy:
I’m not crazy about snacks. I like FOOD. And generally not the low fat, virtuous kind, although I do love dark leafy greens. But also ice cream, and cheese, and pieeeeeee.

Due to the strange effects of colonialism, we’re able to get these Scottish caramel wafers in our Caribbean corner store. Bizarre, but appreciated.

Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Freak out.

Places I have lived:
Born in Edinburgh, Scotland. After a year or two we moved to Roubaix in the north of France, then Paris, then on to Geneva in Switzerland where I was for most of my primary schooling. Back to Edinburgh through high school and art college, then across the Atlantic to Ann Arbor in Michigan. And finally to Brooklyn, New York.

In retrospect it seems kind of inevitable that I would end up in North America. My German grandmother came over to Canada in her 20s and stayed. My mother, on the other hand, was raised in Canada but has spent her adult life in Europe. Seems every generation bounces back across the Atlantic.

I’ve always made this version of the Wild Geese necklace in a choker length, but I just kept going until all I had left was a little pinch of beads.

These pictures really don’t do it justice; it’s slinky and luxurious and I’m enjoying playing with it, swishing it across the table. It makes a sound like the beach, which goes well with the heat wave we’ve been having.

I feel as vulnerable as the baby bird one of my oldest friends found on the ground this weekend and placed back in its nest. Or the newborn chickadee another dear friend shakily returned to its home the week before. The possibility of misstep, the distance to fall, is daunting. But I too am being carried safely homeward, cradled in a giant, tender, clumsy hand made up of brokers, bankers, inspectors, family, and wise friends.

Soon I’ll tell you about it.

A snapshot of the necklace I’ve been working on.

This might be the first time I’ve made a new design in something other than white pearls! Still pearls though. Can’t get too way out.

How could you fail to sleep well?

I also covet her gorgeous trellis.

Of course the whole established perennial garden is part of the dream too. Better find me a plot and get digging.

There was excellent weather, lush green, beautiful flowers, good company, abundance of food, pretty walks, and funny-looking creatures.

Good times.