Remembering Sandy Robinson

 

A wonderful lady and treasured friend passed away early this morning: Sandra Kay Robinson - Sandy to everyone who knew her - lost a near two-year-long battle with cancer.

Sandy installs Betty as GCFM President

I first met Sandy on June 2, 2015. I can say that with certainty because, the following day, Sandy installed my wife, Betty, as President of the Garden Club Federation of Massachusetts. Sandy was herself the newly installed President of National Garden Clubs, Inc. (NGC); the umbrella organizations for garden clubs across the United States and with affiliates throughout the Americas.

Sandy had progressed through the garden club ranks in her home state of Kentucky, then stepped onto a treacherous ladder that included a competitive, six-year ‘apprenticeship’ that culminates with being elected as national president.  The national president is the visible face of the organization, and the title comes with a back-breaking travel schedule: she is expected to visit all 50 states and a slew of South American countries during her two-year term.

Sandy at the Newport
Flower Show

The next day, I gave Sandy a couple of my books for her upcoming flights (over the next two week she would install half a dozen presidents).  She dutifully put them into her tote, and the look on her face was one that said, ‘Oh, my God, something else I don’t have room to pack…’. I imagined my precious books being abandoned next to air sickness bags on flights all over the east coast.

But something amazing happened.  Sandy read them.  And then passed them on to friends with glowing recommendations. I would begin to get notes from strangers in far-flung locations asking when my next book was coming out.

With Betty now going to NGC events and with me in tow peddling books, Sandy’s and my path crossed several times a year. I came to know a woman who both took her NGC role seriously, and who also took life with a large dollop of humor.  One of the perks of being NGC president is to choose a national theme (hers was ‘Leap Into Action’) and, along with that theme, to work with professional writers and illustrators on a children’s book.  Sandy had a life-long affinity for and fascination with frogs and so a wonderful book with an environmental theme was produced: The Frightened Frog. It sold extraordinarily well, including in Massachusetts. Sandy, in turn, was deluged with frog-themed paraphernalia, which both delighted and overwhelmed her.

David Robson and Sandy
at Coastal Maine BG

When I met Sandy, my writing and speaking credentials petered out at the borders of the six New England states. I credit much of my success beyond the region to Sandy’s speaking well of me, though she never saw a presentation of ‘Gardening Is Murder’ until I addressed the annual meeting of the Garden Club of Kentucky. It was my first talk in front of a group of people who had no frame of reference for New England gardening – or humor. Afterward, Sandy said I was ‘even weirder than (she) already thought I was.’

At Crane Beach

In 2019, Betty and I were able to reciprocate some small part of Sandy’s friendship. In June of that year, she and David Robson were invited to judge the Newport Flower Show. We invited them to come a few days early, allowing us to show them some of ‘our’ New England, including an all-day trip to the Coastal Maine Botanical Garden (she had seen it once before – for 40 minutes – as part of a whirlwind tour of horticultural sites), Crane Beach, Long Hill, and Farnham’s fried clams (even though she had a seafood allergy).

Her sense of humor
on display

That was also the last time Betty or I would see Sandy, though we spoke with her periodically. That autumn, she received her first cancer diagnosis. A spring 2020 speaking swing through the Midwest that would have included a detour to Kentucky to see her was scrubbed when Covid-19 reared its head.

She was a remarkable lady who leaves an enduring legacy. Since hearing the news of her death this morning, we have heard a cascade of remembrances of kindness, activism, friendship and, above all, devotion to the garden club community.

Getting the Gang Back Together Again

 

Medfield's Community Garden

For the past dozen years, I’ve performed an end-of-winter task that is equal parts sheer joy and pulling teeth: I’ve re-assembled an ever-growing coterie of vegetable-growing enthusiasts for the Medfield Community Garden.

If you take the responsibility seriously, managing any community garden is not for the faint of heart.  Managing one with 75 plots and 80 demanding gardening families is grounds for keeping a defibrillator close at hand, especially in an era when acceptable out-of-door activities are few and far between.

A woodchuck hole in
one of our gardens

For me, the process began at the end of January with a review of the ‘Gardening Guidelines’.  Don’t try to impose ‘rules’ on gardeners. ‘Rules’ smack of dictatorships. ‘Rules’ are totalitarian. ‘Guidelines’ are things everyone can agree to do, especially if they fit on one page. As we do every year, Betty and I reviewed and re-wrote the Guidelines with a view to addressing things that went wrong in 2020.  For example, a woodchuck wrought destruction in one garden, so burying fences six inches was elevated from a ‘nice thing to do’ to something expected of every plot holder.  Because of overwhelming scientific evidence, plastic mulch (ground covers) went from being ‘discouraged’ to ‘banned’.

the Guidelines

Once the Guidelines were ready, I emailed those gardeners who had left their plots in good condition at the end of the 2020 season. I told them to read the Guidelines and, if they were in agreement with them, they could claim their old plots for a new year. That was on February 1, and I gave them to the end of the month to get a check to me.

That’s when the ‘special requests’ began flooding in.  Gardeners with half plots wanted to move up to full ones. Gardeners with full plots wanted to move to sunnier locations. Families that had co-gardened with other families wanted plots of their own.

Oh, and as all this was happening, the town asked how we could make the garden compliant with the ADA – the Americans with Disabilities Act.

Many community gardens allow
permanent fences, which inhibits turnover

While not an official requirement, our goal in the Community Garden is to bring in new blood each year. Too many towns, we found, have gardens that, intentionally or not, are essentially hereditary.  To us, that wasn’t fair and, to that end, we’ve expanded the garden twice and split large gardens in half.  Our problem is that people don’t want to leave and, as noted above, many of those half-plot holders want to move up to full plots.

In an average year, though, 15-20% of gardeners move from town, lose interest, or ‘age out’ (including children reaching an age that being with Mommy in the garden has lost its magic).  In 2020, roughly ten gardeners dropped out due to Covid concerns. Those plots were immediately snapped up by a dozen replacements. This year is turning out to be anything but average. The renewal rate from 2020 is above 90% which means, if we give the ten gardeners who want to move up from half plots to full ones, there isn’t any room for new gardeners.

ADA compliance will require we offer
some plots with beds raised to
wheelchair-accessible height

In the end, we had ten, 300-square-foot plots to offer new gardeners.  On the morning of March 1, I put out a single notice on Medfield's 'Concerned Citizens' Facebook page and had responses within 15 minutes.  By March 3 at 6 p.m., I had checks in hand for all ten gardens - and a waiting list for those who did not comprehend the opening sentence of the 'Gardening Guidelines' that plot assignments are not final until paid for.

And so, we’re trying to expand the garden yet again – add an additional ten full-size plots. Ground is supposed to be broken this month, but it’s weather-dependent and this has turned out to be a snowier-than-expected winter.  We're doing a final walk-through with the town's Conservation Commission next week and I am crossing my fingers everything goes as planned because I’ve also put out the word to prospective new plot-holders.  If it doesn't happen, I have visions of my head on a pike.

One option for compliance

The ADA compliance question is also turning out to be a surprise.  We cast a fairly wide net looking for examples to follow. Almost all responses we received were of the ‘What a great idea!’ variety, and a few added, ‘Please let us know what you do so we can replicate it’, which was an encouraging reply but not especially helpful. 

As it turns out, accommodating gardeners with disabilities has not been on many town’s radar screens.  We did find the gardens constructed as part of the Southwest Corridor project have special wheelchair-accessible raised beds, as does the Audubon Society’s Nature Center in Boston.  We’ve submitted a proposal to the Conservation Commission and, last evening, it was warmly received.  The timing is anything but set in stone but, once it happens, it appears we’ll be trailblazers once again.