“The eagle has landed.”
When that text comes across my phone screen, I know I’m in for a treat.
I open the front door, and there, on the mossy edge of the entrance planter, is a very special delivery.
I think it started back in 2018, after my first ankle surgery. Chris had gone through a similar surgery six months before. She knew it would be a tough recovery. But every recovery is best with chicken soup—a container of which was sitting on the planter.
Many of my Master Gardener friends made sure I didn’t have to cook dinner during those weeks, but Chris continued. I know she has a soft spot in her heart for my mom. That was partly why these Eagle Landings continued. But the obvious reason is that Chris is a doer. A giver.
In her real job, Chris helps manage a flood-and-fire restoration service when disaster strikes Central PA homes and businesses. I used to think she had a crockpot bubbling on her counter day in, day out. Now I’m sure she has several. She cooks for family. She cooks for friends. She helps at her church community café. One morning, a few years ago, my mom and I stopped at the Boalsburg Fire Hall for their Pancake Breakfast. Guess who was there? Yep, Chris and Bob (in all fairness, I must give a shout out to her husband who does his share of giving).
Over the years Chris has delivered chicken casserole, cheesy-zucchini bites, breakfast strata, beef stew, vegetable soup, Trader Joe’s pastry ring, coffee cake breakfast box, and other meals I’ve forgotten. When I thank her, Chris says dismissively, “Oh, it’s Souper Sunday” or “It’s National Use Zucchini When You Cook Day.” And there have been Eagle drop-offs of tulip and daffodil bulbs, ornamental kale containers …
Then came Dec. 23. A giant, double-handled shopping bag was sitting on the planter. ‘Tis the Season it said on one side, Deck the Halls on the other. Inside was a black tub filled with greenery and flowers, stems at least 2 feet long, popping out the top of the bag.
The instructions were simple: Don’t leave out overnight. Put in the garage or somewhere cool but not freezing. We’ll Zoom tomorrow. Make sure you have a pair of hand pruners within reach.
Christmas Eve came and Chris, another friend, Jo, and I met on Zoom. I was sitting in the atrium (tile floor for easy cleanup) ready to go. Jo, an interior designer, already snapped her green grid floral pillows together to form rounded discs and had started arranging. I hadn’t even noticed the small bag of cup-shaped, round green plastic grids and had no idea what I was supposed to do with the things. My head is always in the flowers.
“You love growing plants and cutting flowers to stick in a vase, but arranging? That has never been your forte,” says a little voice in the back of my head. “It’s Christmas Eve. No one is coming to the house. What have you got to lose?” I silently coach myself.
Years ago, I heard and memorized the mantra for designing containers: Thrillers, spillers and fillers. Same goes for free-form floral arrangements.
Chris sticks to the basics. She suggests I snap my two “halves” of the green grids together.
Looks like a green spaceship.
The first rule is that no green foliage, needles, etc., should touch water. OK, makes sense.
We have 4” and 6” grids. Chris told us the day before to find bowls/jars with 4” or 6” openings.
Next, select the greens—the Fillers—and stick them through the grid, some at a diagonal, some straight, etc., until you build a framework of a spray of greenery. We have pine and yew and cedar boughs, boxwood, rosemary, and sprays of silver dollar eucalyptus. I trim off leaves and needles and stems, and poke each branch through the grid.
“Oh, look at that.”
“A variety of textures, that’s good.”
“That’s the way.”
“I like how the cedar droops naturally.”
“The eucalyptus smells so good.”
“What is this spiky green with leaves that are almost shaped like thorns?” (We never figured that out.)
Eventually the Fillers and the Spillers are arranged.
“Where’d you get all of these greens?”
“Oh, around. In the yard. Foraging. Trader Joe’s.”
Then come the Thrillers. There are bunches of baby’s breath (also a filler if you want to get picky), carnations, Star-of-Bethlehem (on Christmas Eve, of course), and giant protea buds. Wow, this is really fun!
As we work, Chris explains that the beauty of this bouquet pillow cage is that it rests on top of the container, with lower stems in the water. When it’s time to refill the vase with cold water, you simply lift the bouquet in one hand, refill the vase with water, and place the bouquet back on top.
In preparation for her daughter’s wedding, Chris watched a video with Holly Chapple, creator of these floral pillow or puff cages. They come in 4”, 6”, 8” and 10” sizes, along with other floral design supplies (just Google and have your credit card ready). The beauty of these cages is that wedding designers can pack up their expensive vases after a wedding or event, but allow participants to take a bouquet in a cage home so they can keep enjoying the arrangement by easily plopping it in their own vase.
We chat and arrange and create several bouquets. Jo shows us how hers looks on her dining room table. Exquisite, as always. Leftover stems and trimmings slip into a bud vase or two, not wanting to waste any of the green in December. We are having so much fun! There is even talk of this becoming our “side gig” someday.
Well, maybe. I already have a side gig lined up for February and March … and that’s a whole other story. Laurie Lynch
Flower Messages: Baby’s breath (everlasting love), white carnation (sweet and lovely), Star-of-Bethlehem (purity) and protea (courage). If you’re looking for a book to read this winter, find a copy of The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh.
Written on Slate: “Moss is selected to be the emblem of maternal love, because, like that love, it glads the heart when the winter of adversity overtakes us, and when summer friends have deserted us.” Henrietta Dumont, The Floral Offering