Tasha Tudor always has been interesting to me. I've read what there is to read about her, and she was quite the independent, stubborn free spirit, who did just as she pleased in a time when women certainly weren't encouraged to do so. She taught herself to draw and paint (although her mother was a respected artist herself), and decided to dress as if in the 1830s when she was a teen. How I wish I could have seen the early clothes she bought at auction for mere pennies and wore in those days! The beautiful land where her son hand-built her final home is now a family compound of sorts. As usual, I've just returned from VT, where I was a week too early for their open garden tours, which are available on a very limited basis, several times each year. Maybe someone on this list has been. I would love to see the beautiful flowers in person. Right now, I have some small hollyhocks, columbine and asters sprouting from seeds sold from Tasha's garden this year. Tasha was an exceedingly clever woman - at living in the old way, but also in creating the image she wanted the public to have of her. As most brilliant individualists seem to be, she was not all sweetness and light, I've read. A weaver friend of mine is depicted in one of the books, dying yarn, and she once told me that working with Tasha was an intense experience, to say the least. Tasha was unique, incredibly talented and an icon of independence, with lessons to share with generations to come. It seemed as though she would last forever to tend those gardens. Lila

Well, the color is spot on - rose pink, but it doesn't appear to have the fig leaves. Some of mine came out with the fig leaves and some with the catcher's mitt shape this year. I wonder if the seeds I sent to you were from a cross pollinated plant. Darn. Still, it is at least half TT. Very pretty too. Doesn't matter. If there are other HHs within 100 ft, they will get crossed. So, that cinches it for both of us, eh? Sorry about that, Christine. Thanks for posting the picture. ~Annie

How wonderful. I've never seen this video of Tasha in her gardens. Thanks for posting! I also watched a couple more, now I'm going to be late getting to the library before they close because I have dishes to do first and my hair needs washing! lol Yes, I know what you mean about probably not ever having such a lush garden as hers; but that's why we start early getting those most important "bones" planted and wait patiently for all the rest to come. As I've said many times before here, my garden has matured and most flowers and their borders are old now and it's time to start over. Such is the way of the garden.

Thank you so much for all of the kind thoughts. The house just doesn't seem....right. Funny how grief works - I couldn't stand for her bed to stay ( donated immediately) but still have not been able to bring myself to pick up her "chicken towel" or food bowl. I know it's all part of the process and that this ache in my heart is part of what makes life so very precious. Joy is all the sweeter when one has walked intimately with sorrow. Our sweet Sammy doesn't like spending as much time out back anymore - he goes to potty but doesn't linger too long - it was his job to escort the Princess around the perimeter when out back. He seems very lost without her. Sad with us. She rescued Sam. She was the last of our 4 rescues that we couldn't say no to, and when we lost our Ridgeback in Oct 2011, we felt it was only appropriate that she chose her new companion. It was a unique situation because we could not take her to adopt a pets due to her health ( she had a disease when young the left her unable to to be vaccinated without lethal results). We connected with a rescue that brought several dogs to us for Tasha to meet and she ultimately chose our Sammy boy - who had no clue how to dog. She had no problems showing him the ropes and they were thick as thieves. As Sunday rituals go, Tasha ALWAYS knew Sunday - it was park day. In more recent days we didn't always make it that far, but we always went that direction and the days we did make it - we always walked the trails. She loved it - Sam hated it. We have tried to keep routine normal for Sam - and so, with honor in our hearts this morning, we turned left instead of right and made our way to the park. Sam knew this was a special walk of sorts this morning and as we made our way in, he headed for the trails, where he stopped and sniffed more than he has since her passing ( she taught him to smell everything!! Kinda funny coming from a sharpei - she was trained by a beagle) It was bittersweet. We are all missing her. Thought I would share a few more shots of my lil girl ( and her boy Sam)