food, crochet, merriment
January, the month of new beginnings and cherished memories, beckons. Come, let winter weave her wondrous spell: cold, crisp, woolen-muffler days, long dark evenings of savory suppers, lively conversations, or solitary joys. Outside the temperature drops as the snow falls softly. All of nature is at peace. We should be too. Draw hearthside. This is the month to dream, to look forward to the year ahead and the journey within.
Sarah Ban Breathnach
Something strange is afoot.
Remember the kind, sweet, garden we planted a couple months back?
See? There’s my tiny, little chamomile and my one, solitary petunia growing bravely by the rose bushes.
And remember the polite little peas all growing in a row? And the radishes? Well, never mind about the radishes.
Moving on…
Remember the pumpkins and the watermelon and zucchini and tomatoes?
Well, I do. They were all right here when we left for New York. Yessiree…right here where we put them.
We were told there was an unusual amount of rain while we were gone…
but we were NOT told that some strange creature crept into the garden and planted the entire Yucatan Rain Forest in our back yard. Yeah, that was a surprise.
No lie. We came home…
to this…
and this…
and THIS. What the HECK! How did this happen?!
I’m told that there are likely zucchini the size of sea otters buried in this forest–and I’m gonna find ’em. It may take muscles of steel and possibly sturdier knees than I currently possess, but we have to try.
So, we’re soaking down the jungle and I’m off to buy more gloves… and possibly a machete. For all I know, there could be man-eating pythons out there mingled with the pumpkin. I’ll bring pepper spray.
Do wish me luck…
…I’m going in.
So, last week—we had…
this…
and this…
and this…
Warm and welcome and green and lovely.
But now we have…
this…
and this…
and this…
not to mention this.
Cold and wet and not quite as welcome…
but I must admit–
also lovely.
Perhaps we can change Friday’s gardening party to a sled day.
In the meantime,
it’s back to chanting…
…for Spring.
I have found…
that when it looks like this…
and this…
and this…
on the outside…
…it becomes quite necessary…
to find this…
and this…
and this…
on the inside.
Warm tummies, warm hearts.
It can’t possibly be helped.
The weatherman says we may have 6 more inches of snow–in some areas–by morning. I say…bring it.
What I really wish is that it would keep coming down for three days until snow covered up the door, the windows and maybe even the roof–with only the chimney sticking out—so just for a while, we wouldn’t have to go anywhere. I hope it happens in the dead of night sometime so that everyone is home and safe and warm.
Picture it. The first guy up would look out the window—which he couldn’t see out of because it is–as I said–covered with snow. He would say, “DUDE, I’ll have to stay home from school today.”
Then the next guy up would try the door and say, “It won’t open. Guess I can’t go in to work today.”
The next one up would say, “The snow is up to the roof. We better stay inside. I think we’re…snowed in.” Dun-dun-dun.
The all of a sudden we have hot chocolate, and Broccoli Cheese soup, and garlic toast just appearing, magically–from scratch. Board games come out, book shelves are studied, puzzles are started. We would have no choice but to stay inside and read and cook and play and snuggle together with…
a sweet smelling…
fuzzy headed…
…yummy baby.
And just how perfect would that be?
“Baby Chomp” 9lbs. 3oz. 21-3/4 inches long January 7th, 2009 8:41 pm
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