Gardening runs in the family.

I remember worrying about a choked rose patch when I was 10 years old. Memories of sweet peas when I was a little girl and their sweet candy smell. I can see my dad with a huge trellis of sweet peas behind him. My father was raised by his mother and aunt who were dedicated gardeners and he himself was a gardener.
I come from a long line of extremely stylish, determined women. The men die young...around 64 but the women are 98. Yikes.
My great-aunt on my father's side - Em - would dig up plants with her pitchfork in her 90s. Yes....90s. She would be dressed in a gardening outfit. You know...just some old slacks and a blouse. I believe that she was born in 1902. She passed away at 98 years old. Just imagine. She lived in 2 homes throughout my life. One was a regal home in Victoria BC with an amazing garden. The tour buses always pointed it out because it was so stunning. Of course, she had a team of gardeners who looked after it! Her second home was a waterfront apartment with a garden. She cared for that by herself and that is when I can picture her with her pitchfork.
My great-aunt on my mother's side - Dorothy - was also a gifted gardener. She just passed away recently. She would have loved this blog. In fact, I think that I will head over to her garden and take some pictures before it is sold. Her home is on a double lot in Edgemont Village. It was beautifully planned and maintained. Hmm. Maybe not now. She was, I think, a bit of a visionary. Her garden was never fussy and never followed fashion. She had sculpted rhodos and hydrangea surrounded by a perfectly placed pot, sculpture or bird bath. You could always see dirt surrounding her plants and NEVER a weed. It never really changed. She had created her vision and that was that.
Both of my great-aunts also filled their homes with glorious vases of freshly cut flowers from their gardens (obviously in season). Their gardens were a reflection of the care and pride that they took in their homes.  My Aunt Dot once apologized for not having dusted her chandelier that morning. I am serious. She was around 94 at that point.
There is no doubt that gardening is a family trait. I have a picture from my cousin in Sweden that she just sent me. She is related through my father's family. I have been to her home in Sweden and it is spectacular. A work of art. Karïn is her name and she also has a small cabin on an island somewhere in Sweden. These are the delphiniums that she grew on an island with one well for every ten families. So...very little water. Yet she still had a beautiful garden.

Now, I just have to find some pictures of my great-aunts' gardens.