So, uh, has anyone else noticed I haven’t posted anything in 5 months? Funny how things slip to the side….
Today we are midway through our summer break and enjoying 12 degree weather. I’m wearing pants and a hoodie and not bemoaning the lack of air conditioning at all. (On those 30 plus days, you could live in another province and hear me bemoaning profusely as I melt into a puddle on the floor.) In between scrubbing toilets, painting signs, and folding laundry, I’ve been cuddling up on the couch with a blanket and some sweetheart cowboys. I’ve also been half-heartedly planning a grocery list and maybe giving dinner some thought.
Thoughts of food make me think of the garden…. and without the sweltering sun, it’s actually pleasant to go out and putter. I love seeing the results of my early labour. I love being able to grab what I need with a quick pop outside the door. Am I crazy about pulling thistles or finding a big fat spider in my sink after washing the romaine? Not a chance… but the smell of dirt and fresh basil rank right up there with a good book and a great cup of tea on the list of simple pleasures that soothe my soul.
When it comes to my flower beds and planters, I’m hopeless. They look fantastic with the first bloom of spring, but about this time of year, they’re weedy, scraggly, and overgrown. My herbs and veggies though? While maybe not so pretty, the consumable garden always gives me a sense of satisfaction.
This is the first year I’ve put in a veggie garden here and I’m having mixed luck. My lettuce, chard, tomatoes, beans and zucchini are thriving. My broccoli, cucumber, peppers, and cantaloupe are putting up a fight. I started my seeds way back when and they all died. I didn’t get to the local greenhouse until late in the season. My repurposed rose bed has a ton more weeds than my old garden boxes. The bugs are having a field day with some of my plants.
For me, gardening is an exercise in patience and some days leaves me feeling that no matter the quality or quantity of labour invested, it’s all a matter of luck. Strangely enough, I don’t find it frustrating… because many days there has been something homegrown on the table, because next year is another chance to try again, and maybe I’ll even convince the kids that, yes, lettuce from the grocery store was grown in the dirt and no, fresh-from-the-ground isn’t poisoning you. I’m already playing with a bigger layout in my head for the future… while the perfect zucchini sitting on the counter does indeed leave me feeling satisfied.