It’s winter here in the Midwest – deep, dark, and glorious. For two months the ground has been covered with over a foot of snow, and I can’t get enough of it – a child of the waterless, winterless desert, I thrive in freezing temperatures. Plus, I love the sweeping expanses of white and the fact that my pleasant disposition is not upset by ever-growing weeds and the grass begging to be mowed.
But these people in my family are pouring over seed catalogs, as though they actually think that someday the ground will no longer be frozen and will once more be able to bear fruit.
As though this wasn’t going to last forever.
Jacob told Josie that she could select a few things to plant and cultivate by herself, so, in this picture, she’s deep in decision-making. There will be flowers and carrots and artichokes.
Gardening is important to us, and although our gardens will not win awards for being the neatest and the most meticulously cultivated, they still provide a lion’s share of our vegetable-matter intake – countless bags of frozen asparagus, corn, spinach, and brussels sprouts; delicious and fragrant jams and jellies – strawberry, raspberry, and elderberry (and that ain’t wild kind I’m talking about); homemade wine for 100% of my cooking needs, canned tomatoes, and all the garlic and potatoes we can eat keep us going through the winter, while cabbage, peas, beans, cucumbers, herbs and salad greens delight during the summer.
And here’s the best part – I hardly ever have to do any of it myself, mostly because I’ve been deemed incompetent. Hey, works for me!
This guy – he takes care of everything. Me, I spend my days in leisure eating bon-bons, ahem, frozen brussels sprouts.
