After spending Sunday with family, the living and the only remembered, we were now ready to explore the gardens of the Willamette Valley. We limited ourselves to the area between Woodburn and Salem, since there were more here than we could possibly cover.
We had a list, and decided to make our first stop at a small nursery in the area of other gardens we planned to see.
Egan Gardens was perfect to get the day started - just the right size to see everything, talk to a few of the staff, and even buy a few plants.
There were some empty plant tables, which is a good sign for the business.
There were more greenhouses, but we had plenty to see in this one.
This ancient apple tree is the perfect example of persistence.
If you have to be in the dog house, this one would be quite pleasant, with it's living roof!
And these are the plants that came home with us from Egan Gardens.
Sunday morning Tom and I were up early to get a good start on our trip south to Portland, Oregon, where we met my sister Ilene and began our tour of cemeteries and visits to those from whom we are descended.
Our first stop was at Lincoln Memorial Cemetery on Mt Scott in southeast Portland, where our paternal grandparents, Olaf and Emma Norquist, are buried. Neither of us had visited this cemetery before, but with excellent help from volunteers, we were directed right to their resting place.
This is a large urban cemetery high on a hillside overlooking Portland, and bordering the Willamette National Cemetery.
Then we went out into the country, to our homeland, the small town of Molalla. We had lunch in town and then drove up into the hills to Adams Cemetery, where our parents Henry and Violet Norquist are buried.
This beautiful place is surrounded by green fields and stands of oak trees and vast plantings of Christmas tree farms.
And here is my mother's mountain, Mt Hood, which she could see from all of her homes in the valley.
Her original home was in the hills of the area known as Clarkes, and just up the road from the old farmhouse of my grandparents, her parents, is the Clarkes Pioneer Cemetery.
Now we are even more rural.
And the Christmas tree farms are vast. Of course once these fields grew wheat or oats and grass for hay. Trees are now the money crop.
And here my sister and I have deep roots.
These are my great grandparents.
My double great grandparents, parents of Hanna.
And my triple great grandmother Mary.
However, my grandparents, my mother's parents, are not buried in Clarkes, but in the valley town of Canby, a "modern" cemetery.
We had such a good day with Ilene, traveling back roads, remembering the people who passed on, and passing by old and familiar places from our childhood.
We finished the day with dinner joined by our cousin Susan and her husband Jim. Susan is the daughter of my mother's sister Alma, and she shares many of our memories. Of course there was more remembering as we ate and talked together.
Ilene and Susan and Jim returned to their homes in Oregon. Tom and I are in a hotel in Woodburn, where on Monday and Tuesday we will be touring gardens and enjoying the beauty of my valley homeland.
Garden #4 on the South Hill Tour was next door to the Campbell garden, sharing space on the ridge with valley and mountain views.
When you sit on that well-placed bench, this is what you see.
Gardener Scott informed us that this is the result when you have too much "thyme" on your hands.
The gardeners here chose not to be mountain goats, and limited their scope to this lovely little rose lined grassy meadow on the ridge top. Below, the hillside drops steeply off and is covered in low maintenance heather.
Invited up on to the deck, we got so involved in conversation with Scott and Patricia that I stopped taking photos, except for their view of The Mountain.
And that ends the garden touring from last Sunday. But there is a trip in the offing to the Willamette Valley, my Oregon homeland, and garden touring continues.
