Le Jardin



When you have friends (and you should, they are important) you need to take care of them. If someone dies, send flowers. Give hugs. Strong hugs, not pat-on-the-back hugs. Let them tell secrets and pour their hearts out, because you will need them there as well. Do you really want a friend that sends a box of Mrs. Field’s cookies when they find out your 21-year-old cat suffered from depression and died a painful death on a cold, rainy day under flourescent lights while you held her in your arms and weeped? NO.

So, take care of your friends. I always try to provide those I love with gifts that are heartfelt and have some sort of myself in them. That means a lot. For instance, I love growing herbs. I mean, I have an herb wall. I’m a little obsessed. I’m obsessed about a lot of things. Life, really.

The other day, my friend Therese lost her dear father. He was just shy of 95, a war veteran, honorable, witty, passionate, kind, gorgeous, strong and everything a father ought to be. Obviously I ran out to my garden and clipped a bunch of rosemary and thyme. And then went to the chicken coop and gathered some eggs. And wondered what I could do with these things. I try to stay in the moment. I knew it would come to me. And then I remembered that I make a fabulous tomato, olive and rosemary quiche. So, I packaged up a little bag of herbs, put some fresh eggs in a butter-soft linen sack, and lovingly wrote the recipe for her. And then I made the quiche. She’s focused on death and do you think she really wants to make this thing right now? NO. But she has some lovely eggs for breakfast and herbs to smell while she’s feeling so blue.

That’s how you do it, friends.

xxx, Madeline

  1. Jeanette Perdue said...

    Small gestures mean so much. This was heartfelt. Your friends are fortunate!

    June 7, 2015 at 4:00 pm
  2. Alexandra B. said...

    My husband died when I was 36 and I will never forget the wonderful hug I received from a friend I hadn’t seen for ten years at his funeral. It was so meaningful. Lovely gesture. And yes, she doesn’t want to make the quiche right now.

    June 7, 2015 at 4:12 pm
  3. Camille Lesperance said...

    À raconter ses maux, souvent on les soulage. With dying we need people that make less the problem.

    June 7, 2015 at 4:31 pm
  4. Erin Frazier said...

    Recipe for said quiche forthcoming, I hope? Sounds amazing…

    June 7, 2015 at 4:48 pm
  5. Michele T. said...

    Anything in glassine is amazing. And linen. And parchment. Good job, M.

    June 7, 2015 at 5:59 pm
  6. Jalapalomino said...

    We need people that make less problems. Hugs and flowers and drinks but, we were too overwhelmed to cry. That will come later. And, whether I am crying or laughing hard my nose gets runny.

    June 7, 2015 at 9:28 pm
  7. Adelaide T. said...

    Tout ce qu’on partage fleurit. Tout ce qu’on garde pour soi, moisit. Merci, Madeline.

    June 8, 2015 at 9:39 am
  8. Joie said...

    Who are you? How did you come to be? Is there a story of you? I’m fascinated by your blog. Little did I know I’ve been following bits and pieces of you all along. I am a Francophile at heart.

    June 14, 2015 at 10:14 am