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Foxglove Fingers and Rootbeer Pinks

© Jojo Sigurgeirson

Childishness is not often thought of as a positive attribute. However, having a childish attitude towards the form and function of a garden might make it more interesting for all. Gardens are places where everyone comes to play, including kids, adults, dogs and wild creatures too. As an adult, I'm not sure that it is possible to create a garden with children's play in mind. Children create their own surroundings in their imaginations. I too the opportunity of this year's Childhood Memories event to jot down some of the most poignant recollections of growing up in my mother's garden. I call it my mother's garden because she did all the work and planning. I'm sure it was a great place for her to be, to get away from everything and concentrate on something other than being a mother of 4, a wife, an amazing cook, etc... But it was also a great place for us kids to be. There were places to hide, places to secret away things only to find them later, maybe, places to be all alone and appreciate the garden as it was piece by piece and places to play with friends and my big sisters and brother. When we first moved to Vancouver, the house we lived in had a completely stand-alone bent iron structure covered with corrugated green fiberglass. I suppose it was 15 feet by 20 feet. It was known as 'the cabana'. It was pure magic. My brother, 9 years older and incredibly talented, built a tree fort in an old plum or cherry tree. From there you could get onto the cabana roof. Some jumping up and down occurred. The cabana and the old tree with fort came down shortly thereafter. Because of these early and pleasant memories, I've always wanted a corrugated cabana of my own. In actuality, ours was incredibly shabby, probably built in the late 50s and steadily dilapidated since that time, but I see it as a cool, inviting place to relax. The cinderblock foundation the cabana was on was transformed into a productive vegetable garden. The area surrounding it was planted with marigolds. Foxgloves popped up each summer by the fence, and we would put a flower on each finger. There was a periwinkle rockery where I liked to play with action figures. I had one Han Solo I lost in the tangle of periwinkle. He might still be there. Hot wheels were another favourite. My brother would set up his track down the sloped lawn. We would sometimes personify the hot wheels and play out dramatic scenes in the root-beer scented rockery pinks.

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