Author Archives: cherie foster colburn

outside my window.

On my trip through the backroads of East Texas this last weekend, the daffodils were on their way out but irises were coming into their own. I love heirlooms like the cemetery white iris and saw them gathered around oak trees, scattered across forgotten lawns and even escaping into the wild. Their ethereal blooms never fail to amaze me. My own cemetery whites haven’t started blooming yet, but my Louisiana irises have. They are at home in a low spot in my front yard, growing lavish and thick where most other plants might drown.

Sunday afternoon I got the chance to spend time with The Bulb Hunter – my co-author on HEIRLOOM BULBS, Chris Wiesinger – and his wife, Rebecca, AKA “Lil Bulb.” They invited me to the Little Red Cabin for a spot of tea and a sing-along, Rebecca at the piano and Chris, my aunt and I harmonizing on familiar old hymns. Isn’t it amazing how a song or a scent or a bloom bring up a memory long forgotten? What memories do these things cause to bubble up in you?

Monday my aunt and I stopped in on Blue Moon Gardens near Edom, Texas. LOVE that place. I’m afraid I chided them about not having any of my books in stock. Hopefully that will be remedied soon, but couldn’t stay mad among all that beauty. Also couldn’t pass up buying a few things, although finding a home for them is going to be a tall order!

Next week I’ll head west to speak at the annual Herbal Forum at Round Top at the incredible Festival Hill. I’m looking forward to what’s been projected as a record year for wildflowers in the Texas Hill Country, the perfect place to see bluebonnets and friends, which means YOU get to see them, too!

: petticoat daffodils

: lous iris

: naturalized daffodils

: iris

Posted in outside my window

outside my window.

Mar 2

Posted by cherie foster colburn

Spring is not only in the air, it’s in the pots, too. My camera is on stand-by constantly with extra batteries in the charger at all times, ready to shoot beautiful blooms like a dietes amongst the azure blue pansies at my local grocery store.

While I depend mainly on perennials in my yard for color – such as red dianthus or “pinks” as my Granny called them – I can’t help but add a few annuals. Pink snapdragons are one of my favorites. Yes, they’ll melt with summer’s heat, but for me they bloom their heads off during the cool season, our name for “winter” in Texas.

Bees are everywhere and although I’m quite allergic to them, I am thankful for all they do to keep the blooming plants doing their thing. Do you encourage bees in your yard? The only place I’d rather not find them is near the pool and patio. That area is relegated to blooms that are pollinated by hummingbirds, moths and butterflies. How do you know which prefers what? Look for an Audrey Hepburn neck…… More on that later.

I’m driving through East Texas this weekend to spend some time with family. I am thankful for the colors of spring as we celebrate the life of my late great uncle, Bob.

: bees on nectar

: dietes

: pink snapdragon

: red dianthus

Posted in happening in my life, outside my window

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in my life.

Feb 24

Posted by cherie foster colburn

My uncle passed away yesterday….

At 81 years old, Uncle Bob played at least 9 holes of golf every day until three weeks ago. His energy and no-fear attitude was my inspiration. In fact, he and my aunt took on re-doing an old general store/post office/bank building she fell in love with five years ago in Golden, Texas. They made it into a magazine-cover home. This was their second complete home renovation since he turned 70. Who starts a project like that when most of their friends are relaxing? Uncle Bob did.
Uncle Bob encouraged me to write a book about their young neighbor in Golden, The Bulb Hunter.
I loved staying with he and my aunt, talking faith and flowers till the wee hours. Uncle Bob enjoyed describing a plant he’d seen playing golf that day so he could know its name the next time, his beautiful clear blue eyes shining like a child on Christmas morning, always ending with “isn’t God good to us?”
No matter what time I arose the next morning, I was met by Uncle Bob, handing me a cup of coffee, his open Bible near his favorite chair. Did the guy EVER sleep?

Uncle Bob will be missed by everyone since he never met a stranger. He’s already teeing off near the Streets Of Gold rather than ones in Golden, Texas. And I have a feeling he’ll be telling ME the names of all the plants he’s discovered when I get to be with him again.