Granny's garden in Bramley
Granny was always famous for her green fingers. Everything she did, she did almost to perfection. She did it with focus and understanding. She was driven. When she got to South Africa, after being a general administrator at a hospital and surviving the war with her daughter she was relegated to cooking for all the guests that came to their large house in Bramley and looking after the big garden. And the garden looked spectacular. All the plants so healthy. Blooming. When I was born she looked after me too and I am sure that I thrived, just as her plants thrived and my mother thrived.
And when in the 60s and 70s they moved to small flats in Paris and Munich and Majorca and then Golfe Juan all her terraces were glorious with flowers and fruit. We remember her little lemon tree in a pot in Golfe Juan. Every year it would produce a big box full of lemons.
Granny's and her lemon tree, in Golfe Juan
In contrast my mother was sure that she did not have green fingers. I think this comes from trying to grow African violets in England. The edges start to curl and you never know exactly where to place the pot and the violet dies. A few years ago however, Mom exclaimed happily that she had finally learned to look after African violets and I remember them. Beautiful purples. Leaves sap full and furry.
Granny spent long periods on her own in Golfe Juan. When you visited, if you were sensitive, when you first entered her home, you could sense the relationship she had with her plants. It was as if they were trying to please her.
Granny in Matumi outside her room
I think you get a sense of that relationship in this picture. Granny is 96 and she gestures towards some beautiful flowers. If you have the wit, you will sense how they acknowledge her gesture and respond to it.
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