Fascinating,
laying six pasture-fed chicken eggs in a stainless steel saucepan, and watching
them all stand tippy-toe upright in the water that covers them, like sailors ready to jump ship when their swimming hole heats to the boiling point. They will adorn my salad of ‘Winter
Density’ Romaine lettuce picked fresh from the raised beds this morning.
Planted too
late last year, the lettuce was only one or two inches
high before freezing weather set in. They
all stood their ground and tucked in for the long winter ride. Whenever a warm day showed up they grew a
little bigger, then back to snooze time when the cold reappeared. February snow, then icy breezes alternating with warm winds, and now they're fattened up for the eating.
I’m falling
behind in cooking all the parsnips that have wintered in the raised
beds. They're sending up new leafy shoots, and I’m losing the race to evict them all to the dinner table before it’s
time to plant corn seeds in their place. Vegetable gardening is a science I sadly
haven’t master. I’ll blame old body hating me on that one :)
Spring
wildflowers are beginning to carpet the gardens in fuchsia, pinks, reds,
corals, blues and whites. To stand alone
amid all this beauty is such a calming euphoria. Hard to believe, in this moment of balmy
breezes, the weather report says next week will bring back coat weather.
Not too long
ago I read an article on tulips, and the methods the Dutch have thought up to keep
them coming back every year better that the year before. It’s not something any sane individual would
ever want to do in their own backyard anytime in their lifetime. I do have wild little tykes called ‘Little Beauty’
I planted years ago that do manage to reappear each spring to my joy. A little drift of those fuchsia beauties are
blooming under the old ash tree where the ground is a bit higher.
Nine years
ago, in my front yard, a drift of say twenty or thirty Generaal De Wet tulip bulbs were planted...a kiss of sunshine when they bloomed the next spring. A blog post way back then is filled with their photos. Three have always popped their leaves up
through the soil every spring, fattened out, and then gone back to sleep bloomless. Several weeks ago my heart skipped a beat when I saw a bud on one, and today the flower has opened.
Tenacity sometimes has surprises most
pleasant…a little kiss of sunshine once again after all these years.
