
Driving up to Layanee's house in Rhode Island I was struck by how old New England is compared to the Midwest and how so many time-honored traditions are still cherished - the smell of sweet hay as it's first cut, the lovely stone walls that were laid by our fore bearers. Layanee and her husband Chris have deep roots in this area and it shows in the lovely garden she has produced. It's a large expansive garden with lawns, stone walls, a pond, perennial beds, vegetable beds, imaginative potted arrangements, and a lovely pool. Her ability to produce such beautiful plants while living on a granite ledge is very surprising to me. Below is one shot of that ledge and the stone wall beyond (notice I'm using the New England term for the walls - "stone" not "rock" (which is what I call them down south)).

Layanee's dog Tucker follows us throughout our tour (with time out for a good wallow near the pond).

She has potted arrangements here and there. Here's one inspired by Pam at Digging and another full of succulents.


While touring we chanced upon this deadly scene - some type of very large bug sucking the life out of a Japanese beetle! Wish I'd thought to get the name of this lovely bush.

Layenee's office is in the glassed-in portion of their house. Can you imagine having such a nice view out to your garden everyday? I especially loved that their octagonal house (the original portion of the house they built) was reminiscent of those 70's homes in Mother Earth News that we used to read about. (I think you need to be of a certain age to know what I'm talking about!)

Here's the lovely Raspberry Wine bee balm that Layanee can see from her office and that she plans to get under control someday. I don't know about that; it looks pretty cool to me.

Many thanks to Layanee and her "Equipment Manager" husband Chris for taking time out of their Sunday to welcome us travellers (we were driving from Maine back to Louisiana). They are such lovely people and I feel fortunate to have met a fellow garden blogger and toured her garden.
