Sunday, May 24, 2026

Garden Tour with My Girls


From our frequent travels to and from Brooklyn, I have become aware of a number of fantastic public gardens along our route. This past winter, our daughter Maggie wished out loud that she and I could explore together several of these gardens in the Philadelphia area. "Yes, let's do it," was my enthusiastic response. We made plans to visit eight extraordinary gardens over four days. When Mary caught wind of our plans, she wished she could join us for part of it! "Yes, please do!"


The trip took some planning: We had to find dates that worked for everyone while the gardens were in peak bloom, and the girls had to enlist spouses and grandparents to cover time away from the children: Hazel, Norbert, and Roscoe.

We pulled it off! Last week Maggie and I flew to Philadelphia, rented a car, and began our tour of the first four gardens. On day three, Mary drove down from Brooklyn and joined us for three more gardens and a sleepover. As spectacular as the gardens were, spending time with my girls was the real gift.

For my readers who want to know more about the gardens we visited, here are the highlights from each. (Note: we were particularly interested in how native plants were used in each of the eight gardens.)

Mt. Cuba Center, Hockessin, Delaware

Mt. Cuba Center, with its 68 acres of gardens and trails, is a leading native plant research organization. Walking its paths, we moved from a formal lilac allĂ©e through meadows, woodland wildflower gardens, and a series of interconnected ponds, eventually arriving at the trial gardens, where Mt. Cuba's researchers have spent decades evaluating native genera — coreopsis, heuchera, baptisia, trillium, monarda, hydrangeas, and goldenrod — for both ecological value and garden performance. In fact, based on their trials, I have recently purchased two Ruby Slipper Oak Leaf Hydrangeas. 


My takeaway: Inside the historic home on the property was a display of flowers in vases, each labeled with its botanical name — the kind I always struggle to remember or pronounce. The display changes weekly to highlight whatever is in bloom. I could do that too! 

Winterthur Museum, Garden & Library, Winterthur, Delaware

Next up was Winterthur, home of Henry Francis du Pont — a collector of American antiques, decorative arts, and plants. He transformed the family estate into a 175-room mansion now celebrated as the premier museum of American decorative arts. But the gardens, all 60 naturalistic acres of them, were what we came for.

The Azalea Woods, the Quarry Garden, the Sundial Garden, the conifer arboretum — each unfolded as if it had always belonged there, following the contours of the land. I especially loved the three-acre children's area called Enchanted Woods, which looked as though fairies had constructed it rather than landscape architects.

My takeaway: The dead hedges I've been building around Farm Dover — especially the Dragon's Tail and the Triangle within a Triangle — could hopefully take on the fairy-tale-esque feel of Winterthur's Enchanted Woods. Each, I'm hoping, will look like the fairies of Farm Dover made them.

Longwood Gardens, Kennett Square, Pennsylvania

I had visited Longwood Gardens some years ago and remembered only its formality: the fountains, the topiaries. Either it has changed, or I was unaware of all the areas devoted to native plants — the Meadow Garden, the Forest District, and the hillside gardens around the Chimes Tower. We found inspiration in the Idea Garden, which features interconnected spaces that blend formal design elements with agrarian styles. We were enthralled by the Conservatory, with its 4.5 acres under glass — a year-round spectacle of orchids, tropical plants, and seasonal flowers that has nothing to do with native plants but everything to do with horticultural wonder. Our visit ended with a peaceful stroll through the Bonsai Courtyard.


My takeaway: The Idea Garden featured a kitchen garden planted on the diagonal rather than in straight rows, with handcrafted structures for vertical growing. I could harvest willow and hazel branches from Farm Dover and use them to make A-frame trellises for peas, beans, and cucumbers.

Stoneleigh: A Natural Garden, Villanova, Pennsylvania

On Saturday morning we met Mary at Stoneleigh, a 42-acre natives-only garden woven into a historic formal landscape. I was especially captivated by the two dozen varieties of native vines climbing a magnificent century-old stone pergola. Mixed hedges of white pine, arborvitae, and native shrubs have replaced the clipped exotics of an earlier era. A former swimming pool has been transformed into a bog garden featuring remarkable carnivorous native pitcher plants.


My takeaway: Add a Crossvine (Bignonia capreolata) and an American Wisteria (Wisteria frutescens) to our board fences.

PHS Meadowbrook Farm, Abington Township, Pennsylvania

Next up was PHS Meadowbrook Farm, a 25-acre estate garden just 13 miles north of Philadelphia. We wandered slowly through its 15 garden rooms surrounding an historic farmhouse, admiring the collections of potted plants, topiaries, archways, and vine-laden metal columns.


My takeaway: After seeing the xeric garden, I want to try planting the corners of our gravel parking area — perhaps with Grandmommy's sedums, or maybe some lavenders.

Morris Arboretum & Gardens, Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia

What a wonderful surprise this turned out to be — a 92-acre destination for native plant and tree lovers, with exceptional collections of native azaleas, magnolias, and maples. Pennsylvania's official state arboretum features enormous tulip poplars, pines, and pawpaws, and the Out on a Limb elevated walkway let us experience the forest from within the canopy. The garden also has a historic Fernery — a charming freestanding glasshouse with a sunken design that houses over 200 species of ferns.


My takeaway: If our trees — most planted in the last 15 years — grow as big and tall as the ones here, Farm Dover will become a truly enchanted place, or, it will look like the overgrown forest in Sleeping Beauty! I only wish I could be here in 50 years to see it.

Chanticleer, Wayne, Pennsylvania

Simply put, Chanticleer is a garden of joy, surprise, and extraordinary horticultural creativity.

What sets it apart is its approach to horticulture as an art. Each of eight talented gardeners is  responsible for designing, planting, and maintaining their own area, and the results — which change meaningfully from year to year — range from the serene Bell's Woodland, a native plant sanctuary, and the contemplative Pond Garden, to the dramatic Ruin Garden set among the remains of a family home, and the sculptural Gravel Garden. The historic trees on the 35-acres are magnificent.


My takeaway: Plant densely. Every square inch of the beds was filled with plants of varying color, height, and texture. Many beds were edged with a single plant type — violas, for example — blurring the hard line between bed and lawn.

Jenkins Arboretum & Gardens, Devon, Pennsylvania

On Sunday afternoon Mary headed back to Brooklyn, and Maggie and I decided to visit one last garden. (It's hard to stop when there are so many to see.)

Jenkins is perhaps the most unpretentious garden of our journey, and in some ways the most moving. It has none of the grand estate history of the others. Instead, it is a 48-acre garden founded by H. Lawrence Jenkins — not a wealthy or prominent man — to honor the memory of his wife, an ardent gardener and wildlife enthusiast. The garden focuses on rhododendrons and azaleas, with companion plantings of wildflowers, ferns, native shrubs, and woodland trees. It was a quiet, perfect way to end our garden tour.

My takeaway: After visiting these eight gardens, I’m convinced that native gardens can be even more beautiful than ones filled with exotic plants from around the world. They represent our ecosystem — what our bees, birds, and beetles need. It's the kind of gardening that makes sense to me, and that I want to keep exploring at Farm Dover -- and learning about via future garden trips with Maggie and Mary.

Saturday, March 14, 2026

A Decade and a Half of Life on Farm Dover

Fifteen years ago this week Ed and I changed our lives fundamentally by moving from town to Farm Dover. It’s not like we always dreamed of moving to the country; it just happened. 

You may have heard our story: We found note in our mailbox asking if we knew of anyone wanting to sell their house in our neighborhood. Our youngest, Mary, had just left for college; Ed and I looked at each other and said, “Why not us?” 

So we sold our much-loved home in Cherokee Gardens, rented a house for a year, and set about finding a piece of land and designing and building a house. On March 17, 2011, we handed back the keys to our rental house and followed the moving van to Dover Road. 

I can still conjure up the excitement and newness of those first days in Shelby County: The smell of fresh paint, the sight of the first daffodils “fluttering and dancing in the breeze,” the trilling sound of a Red-winged Blackbird (which I had never noticed before)....












Fortunately, that enchantment has not left me. Daily, I am astonished by the beauty of this bit of land; I am also humbled by its bounty. 

On my morning walks, I delight in seeing the subtle quickening of the earth: Tight buds of daffodils emerging from their papery sheaths, neighboring farm fields appearing in a purple haze from wild nettles, red, silver and sugar maples swelling and breaking bud, snowdrops and hellebores mingling in the borders, scarlet peony shoots pushing their way up through the soil. 

And the birds, oh the birds! In the early, quiet and cool air, the Robin, the Blackbird, the Carolina Wren begin their dawn chorus, soon to be joined by the Mockingbird, the Cardinal, the Song Sparrow. The males sing the loudest, proclaiming that they have survived the night and are ready to defend their territories and raise some chicks. 

And I mustn't forget the sun, rising from the back field, spreading its first light through the trees and across the pond. I lean into it. It warms and cheers me. 

Slowly, over this decade and a half, we have learned to pay attention to every turn of the season – dreaming of what we want this place to become – giving back all that we can. Day by day, season by season, year by year, we have come to love the land and, in return, the land has loved us. With every decision we make, we seek to make our 40 acres better -- not just for us, but for all the creatures that call Farm Dover home. 

On our daily rounds, Ed and I are on the constant lookout for invasive honeysuckle, multi-floral rose, and bradford pear, nipping them before they take over. Our planting of native trees goes on and on -- more than 2500 to date. And we can’t seem to stop. With great eagerness, we look forward to this time of year when we can inspect all that we have planted and delight upon finding green buds on them.

These days, I am most grateful to this place for its ability to be my solace, my refuge. When life beyond our front gate gets to be too much, I can walk our paths. They lead me out of my darkness. When the news of the world overwhelms me, I force myself to focus on the piece of the earth I can influence: This place.

With my hands in the soil, placing shelling peas (1" down and 2" apart), I can feel my worldview shift from gloom and doom to something more loving: That of repairing the part of the world that I can see and touch. By simply spending a morning working outside, the weight of my grief wanes. I find some measure of peace.

Sharing that peace has been always been a delight to both Ed and me. Welcoming all to come and experience this place has brought us great joy (and hopefully brought the same to our visitors, be they two or ninety-two). 

From creek-walking to blackberry picking, from soup in front of the fire to celebrating milestones, from sleepovers to artists-in-residencies, we want Farm Dover to be a retreat: A place to grow in wonder, where hearts are lifted, worried minds stilled.

What comes of the rest of our time at Farm Dover is anyone’s guess. Ed and I hope our remaining years here will be healthy ones -- for us, for our land, and for its flora and fauna. 

We hope that Farm Dover continues to be a place where our friends and family can gather to celebrate the magic of this spot. And, perhaps most of all, we long for our visitors (especially children) to catch a vision for what life can be like when you love and nurture the place you call home. 

As Hannah Coulter says in Wendell Berry’s novel by the same name: “There is no better place in this world.”




















 





 

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

Turning Two

Roscoe Jane (aka: New York Baby) is not a baby at all! She turned two last week and is now officially a “big girl" with an exploding vocabulary and a sunny disposition.  Ed and I travelled to Brooklyn to celebrate with her. 

For her birthday, Roscoe was joined by her friends, her friends' parents, her parents, and all four grandparents at Vivid Kid, a Red Hook photography studio owned by friends who were happy to provide a large space for small kids to run around and have fun in. The afternoon was filled with letter writing (cards, envelopes, crayons, stickers and stamps provided), balloon inflating, sandwich and cake eating, and lots and lots of giggling. I overheard more than one parent say: "this is the best kid party ever."

_____________

Meanwhile across the Atlantic Ocean, Uncle Jack and Aunt Kasia have been busy making another board book in an on-going series. See previous ones here, here and here. This one featured the sounds of Farm Dover.  Take a peek:




Roscoe loves making all the sounds of Farm Dover. 


Can't wait to see how she grows this next year from a "big girl" to an "even bigger girl." 

Roscoe, you are loved by so many, near and far. 
Happy 2nd Birthday.




Saturday, December 13, 2025

Not One, but Two Galloway Weddings

This year has been a remarkable one for the Galloway family. Not one, but two of our children were married: Jack to Kasia in Poland in July and Mary to Brian in the Bronx yesterday. 

Mary and Brian called us at 5 p.m. We didn't think anything was up when we answered their call as nearly every day we FaceTime with Roscoe, their 23-month-old daughter. However they had big news.

They were married on 12/12/25 at the Bronx Court House at 10:30 a.m. Roscoe was their flower girl and their friends Troy and Rachel Zaretsky-Kreiner were their witnesses. They celebrated afterwards with lunch at one of their favorite restaurants: Roberto's on Arthur Street in the Bronx. 

Yes, we were surprised that they eloped, but we were not surprised that they made official their commitment to each other. They have been a couple for over a decade and we have long considered Brian our son-in-law. 

Ed and I wish them every happiness and a lifetime of love. Blessings bestowed

On their way to the Court House.

Awaiting their turn.

The kiss.

Outside the Court House.

The Flower Girl.








Sunday, December 7, 2025

All I Want for Christmas is a Hornet's Nest

Yes, you heard me right. A hornet's nest. Ever since seeing one in a display case in a shop in Paducah, I have longed to find one to hang at Farm Dover. 


I'm fascinated by the artistry of these papery nests that look to me like exquisite natural sculptures. I'm not the only one to be struck by these architectural wonders; a New York Times October article stated that these nests were fetching up to $250 for use in interior decor. Don't worry, hornets (technically bald-faced yellowjackts) don't reuse old nests; queens start new ones each spring.  

New colonies are founded by a single overwintered, inseminated queen. She builds a small nest and rears the first generation on her own until they are functional. They, in turn, become workers and assume the chore of expanding the nest to accommodate 400-700 yellowjackets. 

The process of nest building is remarkable. The yellowjackets chew up wood, which mixes with a starch in their saliva. They then spread it around with their mandibles and legs, and it dries into a papery structure. In early fall, the queen bee lays one last clutch of eggs. Once hatched, those new queens and males leave the nest to mate. Fertilized queens then search for a protected place to overwinter, while the old queen and workers that are left behind will eventually freeze to death. So, after a few frosts, it is safe to retrieve the nests responsibly.

This summer, as we were working in the woods near the front of Farm Dover, Ed spotted a nest lodged high up in a silver maple tree. It was nearly impossible to see as it was camouflaged by the leaves. We watched it all summer and waited patiently for the leaves to fall and the freezes to come and kill any remaining bees. 

Earlier this week, Ed took a chainsaw to the maple tree and brought down the nest.


It was far more fragile than either of us anticipated and we had to be gentle hoisting it from the blackberry brambles into which it fell. It was also far more exquisite than I anticipated with beautiful, marbled papery layers forming an outer covering, and multiple tiers of hexagonal combs inside. Support pedestals and columns attached it to the tree. The nest features a single entrance hole. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. 


We probably left it up in the tree too long. A week of snow had dampened the paper covering and it wanted to fall apart as we tried to lift it. Still, it is a beautiful artifact. It currently resides on our porch table and I'm looking forward to studying it with our grandchildren and young visitors. Eventually, I'd like to hang it from the porch ceiling. Some people swear that a used nest tricks carpenter bees into thinking that the area is already occupied. And that would be a great way to discourage these bees from commandeering our back porch. 

I hope you get what you want for Christmas.  I know I did! Merry Christmas.



Monday, November 3, 2025

Fall Ramble

Seems like every fall we take a car trip. This year was no exception. We are just back from 10-day, 1700-mile rambling circuit that took us to Charlottesville, VA; Cape Charles, VA (Eastern Shore); Mt. Cuba Center, DE; Philadelphia, PA (Fishtown); Brooklyn, NY; Pittsburgh, PA, Cincinnati, OH. You might wonder how we came up with our itinerary, and for that, full credit goes to Ed. He has an uncanny ability to find interesting places -- many off the beaten path -- for us to visit. It’s one of his (many) super powers. Here's how it usually works: 

Ed says: "Let's take a trip this fall." And I say: "Great, what do you have in mind?" He then proceeds to outline a trip he has (evidently) been contemplating for some time -- mostly to places I've never given much thought to. 

In this case, he proposed that we head east to Charlottesville, and visit Charlie and Nancy, a law school friend and his wife with whom we had recently reconnected in Brooklyn. From there, he suggested our route would take us south to Norfolk and then up the Eastern Shore of Virginia, which is separated from the mainland by the Chesapeake Bay. He thought Cape Charles, a small town on the bay looked "interesting." To appease me, he then proposed that we stop at Mt. Cuba Center, a botanic garden that I had wished for a long time to visit. From there, he wanted to visit Fishtown, a neighborhood in Philadelphia known for it artistic community, eclectic businesses, and delightful restaurants. Our northern-most destination was a no-brainer: Brooklyn to visit with Mary, Brian and 21-month old Roscoe!

On the way home, he put forward stops in the Ironbound neighborhood of Newark, NJ to check out "Little Portugal" for breakfast and "The Strip District" in Pittsburgh for dinner. So that was our plan, and it worked out wonderfully. Here are the highlights from each stop.

Charlottesville, VA

Stayed with our friends: Nancy and Charlie

Our friends live on a beautiful farm and raise Longhorn cattle. 
Charlie and Ed catching up on 55+ years of friendship.
Nancy took us on a tour of The Grounds at UVA.

While in Charlottesville, we sat in on a law school class taught by Charlie
and enjoyed Nancy's spectacular gardens.

Stops along the way to Cape Charles, VA

Berkeley Plantation,
birthplace of William Henry Harrison

Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge

Cape Charles, VA

Stayed at the Hotel Cape Charles; dinner at The Shanty.



Mt. Cuba Center
Stayed at the Inn at Montchanin Village
 
Three miles of trails with native flora to explore

Mt. Cuba is known for its plant research and trails.
Native plantings surround the historic

Philadelphia, PA (Fishtown)
Before dinner beer at Frankford Hall beer garden
Delightful Lebanese dinner at Suraya 


La Colombe: Incredible coffee shop in Fishtown


Best pizza at Pizzeria Beddia; followed by soft-serve espresso ice cream

Took the train to Independence Hall and (sort of) saw the Liberty Bell

Reading Terminal Market. To his delight, Ed found Turkish Delights.

Red Hook, Brooklyn (with an afternoon trip into Manhattan)
Stayed at Red Hook Lodge
Lovely dinner at Café Kestrel in Red Hook
Brunch with our friends: Doreen and Lew

MoMa retrospective of Ruth Asawa, also stop at Strand Books.

Brunch with the kids: Charlie and Roscoe

A lap full

A morning in the park with Roscoe

Hi from the High Line 

A sandwich to go from Defonte's 

So hard to say "goodbye."
Newark, NJ
Little Portugal
First stop: Lisbon Wine and Liquors for long-sought-after Portuguese brandy
Second Stop: Pao Da Terra


Late breakfast of pasteis de nata

Pittsburgh, PA
Stayed at the Marriott AC Hotel in Strip District
Best dinner yet at Bar Marco

Bar Marco: still dreaming of that dinner

Cincinnati, OH
one last (unplanned) stop: Jungle Jim's International Market

Just wanted to see it. 

Farm Dover, KY
Home. Sweet. Home.