Dear Reader:

The other day when I was visiting Kay at Baker’s Pond Nursery on Central Avenue…we strolled past this statue of the Patron Saint of Gardens…Kay had written some clues on a card to help any onlooker identify his name.

I had never heard of him and even if I had been able to spell the name (which I doubt) I never could have pronounced it correctly….(Fee ah Kra). Who knew? (That’s the French pronunciation…the Irish is different… he lived in both countries)

I took a photo and then wrote some brief information down in my trusty (carry-along) notebook… yesterday I re-discovered my notes ….I looked back in my saved photos from the smart phone and found the statue again.

Looking at the photo, now, I thought “Jeepers…that is one despondent individual..no eye contact. How could he be associated with gardens when they make me so happy?”

So I started researching ole’ St. Fiacre and discovered that this gardener saint was one unique individual….and a secluded “loner” by choice. And don’t even think girlfriend…as you soon discover with a famous incident that turned him against all women…well all, except the Virgin Mary… He had a statue of her in his famous garden in France.

Okay…here goes the story of “St. Fiacre on a Friday”…according to “Non-Saint Dingle.”

Once upon a time…a long long time ago….a young man was born in the late 6th century to ( some say a king, a bishop, and/or a warrior-depending on who is telling the story)…but Fiacre refuted power and/or fighting and instead he chose to live his life in a monastery following his mother’s death while still a teen.

Between prayer and devotion to God he began growing herbs and vegetables in the land around the monastery. Soon people heard that his “magical” herbs were healing people and the hungry were given vegetables from the garden.

One of his most important discoveries was a herb rub for hemorrhoids…yep…he was the pre-cursor to “Preparation H.”

Obviously he became a quite popular fella and since Fiacre wasn’t socially inclined…he decided to leave his home country of Ireland and move to France.

Now here is where legend and truth get a little “squirrelly”….the different versions go from early Grimm Brothers fairy tale-like x-rated versions (based on violence) to a rather more passive narration.

He finally got to France in a “simple boat” that seemed doomed to be lost at sea in a terrible storm.  It was said that his prayers caused the winds and waves to become quiet and still.  (For that reason, a bottle of water from St. Fiacre’s well was thought to protect one from shipwreck.)

Upon arriving safely in France… the Bishop of Meaux gave him land for a hermitage. He built a hut and planted vegetables and herbs and flowers. Eventually, he asked the bishop for more land so he could feed the sick and hungry.

*As the legend goes, the bishop said Fiacre could have as much land as he could dig up in a single day. The monk prayed for guidance, and the next morning all he had to do was drag his spade/shovel across the earth. Trees toppled, bushes were uprooted, trenches appeared and stones fell away. The horticultural monk established a monastery where he grew crops that fed the poor and helped the sick.

** That was the children’s version…the early version said that a jealous neighbor, a woman thought to be a witch, watched intently as the “magic shovel” cleared more land than possible and told the bishop that Fiacre was a witch.

The bishop didn’t believe her…but instead chose to believe that this had been some of type of divine deliverance. However, when Fiacre heard about the woman’s accusations he was furious and forbid any woman from ever entering the gardens, the monastery, and sacred chapel under fear of bodily harm. (Bodily harm defined as “stoppage” of breathing.)

* Quote from an early writing: ” It is said St. Fiacre barred women, on pain of severe bodily infirmity, from the precincts of his monastery.”

As far as St. Fiacre was concerned… all women were “w“itches.

One young female author (Irene Virag)  in a magazine article from Gardens ….called “With a Little Help From Our Saints” ( after much research) stated:

” It saddens me to report that he was said to be a confirmed misogynist.” (woman-hater) 

* Others defend him saying that monasteries were male-oriented and not overly nice to women back in the 6th and 7th centuries…a social “faux pas” of the time.

(A little trivia tidbit)… “And he is, also, considered the patron saint of Parisian cabbies, because the hackney carriages for hire in the 17th Century plied their trade from the Hotel Saint-Fiacre (where they got their name) Cabs are called fiacres.

His garden still flourishes today in France where royal dignitaries sometimes visit…but even royal women don’t dare enter the sacred chapel out of respect (and probably fear) of his wishes.

Many of his statues show him with a shovel in his right hand and either the Bible, a vase of flowers, or onions in his left hand with a monastic cloak on.

Well…I got an idea to have a little fun with St. Fiacre…I always have flowers and certainly I could find a shovel from my garage…so I decided to put on my raincoat with a hood to look like his cloak…and pose, as a female statue version, smiling with a shovel in one arm, and flowers in another. Just the complete opposite of St. Fiacre. (If the blog doesn’t pop up today….come check on me… St. Fiacre got me in my sleep.)

Even though modern sculptors have cleaned St. Fiacre’s statues up…carving more benevolent expressions on his face…he still is a little scary to me. Since I am a woman gardener….and obviously, not a male gardener…I think I will stick with (my gift from Honey) St. Francis of Assisi statue. (I would be afraid that a St. Fiacre statue might “gonk” me over the head with the shovel as I walked by!)

St. Francis, however, seems pretty nice and has behaved quite well so far….he seems to nod pleasantly to me each morning as I wave to the garden from the deck.

So until tomorrow…let’s all remember the good side of people who help feed the hungry and heal the sick (even with their eccentricities…but for goodness sakes…let us learn a lesson from St. Fiacre…SMILE! It does a body good! It’s a beautiful garden! It’s a beautiful world! It’s a beautiful day…get out and enjoy it!

“Today is my favorite day”  Winnie the Pooh

* Ted, Brooke’s husband, called me on the way home from Brooke’s eye surgery and she is doing good…(disappointingly she didn’t get her pirate’s patch but just a plain old gauze. Was really looking forward to the pirate look) Seriously…Brooke is doing very well…just needs a few days rest to let  eye, time, and God work their miracles.

Rudy will be returning home to Chattanooga with Kaitlyn’s parents, Butch and Susan, (in the next few days) for the surgery. Will keep you updated on the process, progress, and outcome…thanks so much for caring about all God’s creatures..including our beloved little Rudy!

* If you haven’t made a decision yet on whether Mollie, Rutledge, and Walsh are having a boy or girl…just give it your best shot and send me the vote. Mollie told me that she and Walsh are having such a good time reading the comments from all of you who have voted and why you went one way or the other.

There is still lots of you to participate. Jump in and join the fun!

Every “vote” is important! (Go back to the last three blogs for the ultrasound picture if you are behind in blog reading for  some info and photo to help as clues perhaps.)