The comfort spot of the only male in my life in the beginnings. A place to crawl to and lean back on. I remember leaning on his chest and glancing over to grand mom sound asleep as Lawrence Welk, TV’s music man, was parading on, releasing any tensions in that generation.
Granddad and I, after dinner, would walk down to the greenhouse, He with coffee cup in hand, me tripping over the rocks in the lane. Stopping by the azalea beds, to check the watering lines and the saw dust bedding. About 50 feet from our back door the 4′ by 100′ beds spread with year old azaleas. varieties from Hershey up in Lancaster off route 30 near The Gap. and older types that have always been there.
They all started as soft wood cuttings taken in early spring. Lined in the mist house number three in a bench filled with a blend or peat-moss and perlite. There they would root and grow. Then they would be lined out in beds with precision spacing. Saw dust from a local mill was collected and spread around the azaleas for mulch and an acidifying affect. Above these beds was an iron pipe with nozzles spaced every 12 inches. this was the watering line. And its on these nozzle, the one closest to the lane, that the coffee cup, emptied, would be set up side down on. I think grand mom lost allot of cups this way.
This azalea bed was one of the places I learned to get the root of the weeds out. For some reason it was important to get the root rather then pull off the top.