Today, at last, the snow melted enough for me to check how things were doing. The tulip greens were up a couple of inches, the daffodils barely poking, not even the crocuses showing any color yet. I looked for the Lenten Rose, finally exposed to the light just hours before.
It was tiny and crumpled and distressed.
In my husband’s rubber boots, I walk through the crunchy-wet snow to check how things are growing. Brave and hardy, new-sprung leaves are poking through the ice. I always worry about them, and wish I could tuck them up warm. They need another mama while the earth pulls her nasty pranks on them and leaves them to shiver.
So now that we are talking to each other, what should we talk about? If I were a smarter blogger, I would have quickly followed up on your willingness to talk with a titillating post on a hot topic, like “Q: What do you think of The Shack?” (A: I don’t think of it at […]
My dad grew edamame before it was cool. We called it by another name back then. In the garden he claimed from a Minnesota meadow, he planted rows of soybeans, poor man’s food he remembered from his boyhood. When the plants died in the late summer, he uprooted them by the dozen and laid them […]
Confession: I am obsessed with herbs. Gripped. Infatuated. Besotted with herbs. Last year we dug up a patch along the south side of my house and I started an herb garden, with flat slabs of limestone for edging and paths, and a handful of starts from my aunt and a few friends. Thyme. Sage. Rosemary. […]
What Anita did looked so fun I decided to try it too. Here’s the template if you want to join the party. Based on the beautiful poem “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon. ***** I am from hot suppers and homegrown cabbage and children in and out of doors. I am from the ancient gray […]