Green Thumb in a Blue Straw Hat: Grandma Nora and Her Colorful Garden
Nora Elsie Hoffman Macbeth: 1899-1994 (Maternal Grandmother)
My Grandma
Nora had a green thumb and a true passion for gardening. Her garden lay on the
far side of the Macbeth farm driveway, and it was huge. I am a terrible judge
of acreage, but I think it must have been half an acre in size, and included
some fruit trees at one end. In addition to the main garden, her yard was
studded with flower beds and flowering shrubs. Every fall and winter, she pored
over garden catalogs. She traded seeds and cuttings with friends, and loved to
visit neighbors to see how their gardens were growing and what they had
blooming. Grandma had two sisters who lived nearby, and they would call each
other nearly every day. I remember that their flowers and vegetable gardens
were frequent phone call topics. Best of all, Grandma was generous in sharing
her gardening knowledge with her little grandchildren. I have such wonderful
memories of hours spent in the garden with her, and of her sharing seeds and
advice so I could start my own little garden at my home.
Grandma and Grandpa Macbeth in front of one of Grandma's flower beds--summer 1970 |
My
grandparents’ house was surrounded by flower beds and window boxes filled with
petunias, johnny-jump-ups and geraniums, and ground beds filled with roses, daylilies
and huge dahlias in brilliant colors. Grandma was very proud of her flower
beds, and eagerly awaited their peak bloom times so she could show them off to
friends and family. A favorite family story featured a very young me (probably
about age four) circling the house while all the adults were distracted and
carefully plucking every single bright red geranium flower head. I proudly
headed indoors to present Grandma with my “bouquet”. Somehow she kept her
composure, pretending to be thrilled with my floral massacre and making a show
of getting a pretty vase and giving me a hug before she retreated to the
bedroom to cry.
Grandma’s
garden started out as a necessity. Nora Hoffman married Ivan Macbeth in 1926.
The year after my mother was born in 1928, the stock market crashed, along with
farm prices, sending the country into the Great Depression. Money was scarce,
so my grandparents had to grow what they ate to survive—they slaughtered their
own hogs, ducks and chickens for meat, they ate eggs from the chickens, they
caught fish from local creeks and rivers, and they hunted deer and pheasants.
In addition to growing field crops like corn and wheat, they grew fruit and
vegetables in a large garden. My grandmother canned and pickled her produce so
they had fruit and vegetables to eat all winter long, and they kept root
vegetables like potatoes and turnips in the cool “root cellar” to keep them
fresh as long as possible. It was a hard, labor-intensive life. Photos from
that period show the house with no flower beds or flowering shrubs—there was no
time or energy for beautifying their surroundings.
One sad trellis was only attempt at landscaping in Depression-era photo of Macbeth family. |
However,
when their finances improved, my grandparents took pride in their landscaping.
My grandmother’s large garden still had numerous rows of vegetables, and Grandma
still gathered apples from the fruit trees and picked strawberries from the
large berry patch next to the chicken coop. However, the garden also had lush
beds of flowers—rows of zinnias, bachelor buttons and four-o-clocks, plus
cottage-garden style sections of intermixed hollyhocks, daylilies, phlox, iris,
cleome and sunflowers. It was a lovely color palette buzzing with bees, sphinx
moths and butterflies.
Rose arbor and bed with dahlias and some white flowers. |
My
grandfather helped by building and caring for planters, arbors and garden decorations
like a little Dutch windmill he built. He turned a tractor tire into a raised
bed, and a round metal piece of equipment into a two-level bed for moss roses
(portulaca).
Dutch windmill decoration Grandpa built for Grandma. Rex, Ivan, and Nora Macbeth, and my mom Ione Macbeth Peterson. |
But
Grandma Nora was the true gardener. She spent part of each non-rainy summer day
in her garden. She had a woven straw hat painted a bright blue that she would
pop on her head to protect her from the sun. She’d often wear her apron to
cover her clothes, and had good garden gloves to protect her hands. She carried
a stool with her to spare her knees. When I was with her, she’d give me tasks
to keep me busy—weeding a row of carrots, pulling radishes for lunch-time
munching, or tying up the climbing peas to wooden frames.
Grandma
Nora encouraged me to start my own garden. My dad had removed an old lilac bush
from our yard when it died back, leaving a bare spot about 8x8 feet. I started
my little garden there, planting zinnias, bachelor buttons, and marigolds: seed
gifts from grandma. Someone got me a little trowel and rake. I cared for that
little garden area for several years. I carried my love for gardening into my
adult life, and now that I am retired, I am still gardening in my retirement
community.
Last year,
my son and his wife had their second child, and named her Zinnia. The name felt
like a little hug from heaven from Grandma Nora—zinnias were one of our mutual
favorites. Perhaps Grandma Nora’s and my love for gardening and growing a colorful
rainbow of flowers will be passed on to a new generation.
Sources:
Macbeth
family photos.