Tasha Tudor (1915-2008), my mother, is well-known for her many illustrated books, her beautiful gardens, and her frugal, simple life-style; all of which were slightly distant from the modern world with its chaos and problems.

Yet, even though she appeared to idealize a past era, she strongly believed in the promise and hope of a better future where people make great efforts, both on an individual and a national level, to live within their means, protect our environment, and be at peace with all mankind.

I grew up in the Connecticut countryside of the 1950’s. Carefully tended farmland surrounded our spacious Victorian home, lovely, gentle Jersey cows grazed peacefully in lush pastures alongside a spirited, black stallion I came to call my friend. My sisters and I drank fresh milk with thick cream clogging the narrow necks of glass bottles; and in the spring the banks of a meandering stream turned blue with Quaker Ladies.

I grew up next door to my grandmother, and called her Granny. Back then I was better acquainted with Granny than Tasha Tudor.  She was always busy and in good humor, and always ready to have tea or bake cookies, though everyone knew she napped each afternoon between two and three and took care not to disturb her.  She did say, however, that she didn’t mind hearing the lawn being mown while she rested, or the commission of other industrious projects, for example, splitting wood, or minor carpentry jobs. 

I have grown up running around our vast expanse of paths through the hemlock woods with my little sister Katie. We always like to go to Tasha’s house (we call it ‘Granny’s’) My little sister and I had many-a game of invisible goats and doves in the barn and we always finished riding our very own invisible ponies, Pansy and Flower, down the road and through the lupine.

Granny was quite the woman to grow up with. When I entered this family at age 5, I think she took one look at me with my long hair and bare feet and said, "perfect...a model." She was a hard teacher but a fascinating one. She exposed me to all my passions; fabric, baking, kitchen utensils, decorating for the holidays and gift making.

I had another job offer in hand and a deadline for acceptance. The idea of meeting Tasha had been tossed around by a mutual friend, but would the meeting take place? How likely was it that I would meet and be hired by Tasha? Would I really be able to enhance my college gardening studies by working in her garden for the summer? I didn’t know, and I turned that first job down anyway.