The recent hot spell brought our peony plants quickly to bloom.
Now these aren't just ANY peonies. There is a special story behind these flowers.
It goes back more than 200 years ago. My grandmother's family (many generations ago) were living in the 13 Colonies (New Jersey to be precise). Staunch monarchists, they were content to let history with a vile king run it's course rather than do anything crazy. Obviously others were not so patient and they fought in a little 'skirmish' known as the American Revolution.
When it was over and the the forces of the King lost, the upstart rebels were not exactly taken with those who had not supported their cause. Seeing the writing on the wall, many of these families packed up their cherished possessions and fled to Canada. The woman of the Smith household (I don't know her name - have you ever tried to trace a family named Smith?) loved her garden and was particularly proud of her peony plants. Guess what she tucked onto the wagon with all of her worldly household goods?
Once in Canada the family settled in the Niagara region with many other United Empire Loyalists. The story of these peony plants became the stuff of family lore. These weren't just any old peonies, they were family themselves!
My grandfather, who lived in Beamsville, was a brilliant gardener and his peonies were always a beautiful sight. He would often tell us the story of how they were brought to Canada, making sure that we understood that they were family.
After my grandfather died my mother and her sisters couldn't bring themselves to sell the family home. They rented it out to one bad tenant after another. In short, a headache! Finally they had had enough and they made the decision to sell the house. There was a stipulation in the bill of sale: the grandchildren could come and remove any plants from the garden that they wanted.
I wanted some of the peonies which had been so special to my grandfather. Unfortunately I had nowhere to put them as our house was nothing but a construction site at the time. Our friends came to the rescue and agreed to 'plant sit' , taking great care with the plants for close to 2 years until our house was ready.
They were one of the first plants we put in the garden and the rest of the garden grew up around them. Every year when they start to inch their slow progress up from the ground to brilliant bloom I am reminded of that ancestor who valued beauty and roots. It seems strange to think of a plant as family but these certainly are a strong tie to my past, the present, and the future.
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