When I was a little girl the only mogul I had ever heard of or acknowledged was Martha Stewart. As a little girl drawn to crafts and flowers, seeing someone who was famous for what essentially, to me, was crafts and flowers it made sense that she was someone I should aspire to. My mom had, and still has, a magnet on her fridge that says “Martha Stewart free zone”, which made it feel like a rebellion to place a milk glass vase of silk flowers on top of a doily in my room (HA!). In a house that was loud and chaotic I imagined life as a little hostess to parties in my european inspired garden, terracotta pots filling my greenhouse, where everything was “just so”.

I’ve traveled down many avenues in my life. I think in one way or another I always came back to my Martha Stewart-esque nature. Going the extra mile to create themed score cards for the lady golfers and designing colorful newsletters at the country club, spending hours hand painting classroom decorations at the daycare, going over the top for basically everything I did at the flower shops I worked at. Even if work didn’t offer me any chances of crafty innovation, I poured that into creating excessive themed tablescapes for family holidays. One of my favorite undertakings was the hours me and my cousin Stephanie spent painstakingly making Dr. Suess characters out of cardboard for her daughters’ shared birthday party. Throughout the years I never had much in resources, but I always had this strong desire to create a picture perfect moment from nothing. Maybe to prove to myself that, in the chaos and unpredictability of my life, I could make a picture perfect moment which could exist for as long as the party lasted.

Today I watched Martha Stewart’s documentary. I think we exist on way different sides of the spectrum in many ways. But I understand the feeling of having to reinvent yourself over and over again. And always coming back to your nature of creating beautiful things in the places you land in. I think it feels like a challenge, starting over in a new place. Nothing ahead of you means you get to make it all come to life yourself. Having an eye to see what could be instead of what is. In her documentary, she says when she bought her home in the Hamptons she wanted “the wreck on the nicest street”. I think, in a loving way of course, that’s our home. Neighbors have come up to comment on the state of the garden, a mailman spoke to me and Andrew on separate occasions about how we have improved the front so far. He told me that he pitied whoever would move in because of what a mess it was. I keep telling people the mess and the challenge is what makes it so special. It’s a passion project full of character. Starting over and coming back stronger with the skills I have built of many years of reinvention.

When you visit the back garden you get a glimpse of it’s life before the wreckage. The brick raised beds along the low wall, the worn stone steps to the patio, the greenhouse full of broken pots, tells a story of a garden that was as intentional as it was loved. Bartholomaeus Anglicus, a medieval scholar, said “neglect a garden rose and it will quickly turn back into a wild rose”. Just as people go through cycles of chaos and control, I think our gardens live the same. They reflect who we are and where we are in our lives. When we are ready to fight back all that chaos and take the time to create a peaceful garden to live in, there will be one waiting for us. And when it’s time to let it go, it will re-wild itself for the next person who is up for the challenge.

The patio garden holds a lot of that emotion for me. There is something about it that feels so special and unique. I want it to be the most that it can be. It feels too important not to encourage it. It’s like it was waiting to be loved. But Martha Stewart also said if you don’t love it, rip it out and start again. It’s tough love. I’ve done a lot of ripping out, but only to give it back what it’s needed to thrive. It’s not such a big undertaking if it’s in your nature. Pruning back all of the chaos and making it “just so”.

Katy