Ivy may have had mostly free reign of the house, but she was drawn to the garden almost instantly. The winding expanse of deep greens and pops of colorful blooms lured her down the stone pathway until she was surrounded by plant life. She gently stroked each available leaf and petal, whispering hellos and ‘my, aren’t you gorgeous’ to the trees and shrubs. And when she found the herb beds tucked away behind a wild rose bush, she dropped to her knees to inspect them, smiling at the little balsa wood name plates. “Hmm, you seem a bit dry,” she murmured, fingering a gnarled thyme sprig. “Maybe we
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