A life-changing trip to Martha’s vineyard
Since I was a teenager and read Summer Sisters by Judy Blume for the first time, I have wanted to vacation on Martha’s Vineyard. A few summers back, I convinced my family that we should drive cross country and spend a week on the island.
It was everything I hoped it would be and more, because Judy Blume would never steer me wrong. We did all the island things. We ate lobster rolls, jumped off the Jaw’s Bridge, picked up fresh seafood for dinner at the Menemsha Fish Market, ate our weight in ice cream, and may have accidentally stumbled upon the clothing-optional stretch of Moshup Beach (sans kids, thank goodness).
Hydrangea love
But the hydrangeas in every shape, size and color made me realize I may not choose to return home to Iowa with my family. I began thinking that a cottage on Martha’s Vineyard surrounded by hydrangeas was where I was supposed to stay.
I’ve always loved hydrangeas. There is a decent chance my hydrangea-loving mother passed down the genetic trait. But these hydrangeas in Massachusetts were magnificent and like nothing I’d seen in the Midwest. I vowed then and there that if my family managed to wrangle me onto the ferry after our vacation, I would immediately recreate a magical Martha’s Vineyard garden vibe in my backyard.
The obsession begins
Two smooth hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) shrubs were already planted in my yard, but I hit up my local nursery the minute vacation was over for another pair to fill in the gaps along my fenceline. The following season, we redesigned our front flower beds, which made it the perfect opportunity to plant two bigleaf hydrangeas (H. macrophylla) for some depth and variety. Then, last summer, I just happened to walk into the nursery during their hydrangea sale (who even knew that sale was happening?) and picked up three more plants, including my first oakleaf hydrangea (H. quercifolia).
Most of my hydrangeas are still teenage plants and haven’t reached their full potential yet, but with each passing year, my yard is looking more and more like paradise. If I can’t live on Martha’s Vineyard year-round, I’ll just have to bring the flowery island life to the middle of Des Moines.
When packing for vacation, Jamie would gladly wear the same outfit all seven days in a row if it meant extra room for books or plants.
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