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In the beginning – of my memory – there is a word, or better described as a sound; “peenees”.
It was a word I would hear my Grandma Farner use when speaking to my parents about her garden. I knew the “peenee” was a part of it, but I didn’t know what. Grandma’s garden was enormous and was full of so many flowers and vegetables in neat rows of green. Sometimes in the summer, we would take a ride over to Grandma and Grandpa’s after supper. Summer visits always included garden inspections. As a small child with no real knowledge of what was what in those lines, all I could determine was that peenees were something special and my Grandma liked to talk about them.
Later in my childhood, as I became more aware of the differences in garden plants, I began to see that the plants that once were a blur of green were actually different. One in particular that caught my eye looked like lollipops on a stick, tight balls of green with bright colors peaking through atop tall stems. It wasn’t so much their resemblance to candy that held my attention but the fact they were covered with large black ants. When I asked my mother about the ants, she said those were “peenee” buds and the ants helped them blossom. Her simple answer was enough for me and I continued to watch the ants but lost interest when the flowers opened and have no recollection of what they looked like.
Many years later, while working for Agway Gardens in Fayetteville, NY, I learned there was an old peony field ( with age comes wisdom, or at least knowledge) behind our store. One late May day at lunch time I walked back into the fields and was amazed to see acres of pink and white pompom blooms dancing in the afternoon breeze. So that’s what they looked like. I was surprised not only by their beauty but by the fact that this was the third spring I’d worked at this store and was just discovering this bounty of peonies!
Timing is everything. With my wedding just a few weeks away, the blooms held and I was able to pick at least a peck of peonies to fill in the arrangements my friend Beth created for us.
And so, peonies are big part of my spring garden watch. Everywhere we have lived, we have planted at least one peony. In early spring I watch for the first sprigs of green to peak from under the mulch and make almost daily garden inspections, taking note of the foliage, buds and naturally the ant assistance until late May when the blossoms finally open into their spectacular glory.
Every time I walk the beds I am aware that I am carrying on a family tradition, although on a much smaller scale. This time of year, when I see my peonies, I understand what all the fuss was about and why Grandma was so happy to have them in her garden. I am happy as well and thankful that looking at these flowers takes me back to my childhood and brings the echo of my Grandma’s voice alive in my memory.