Nibbles and bits

The cauliflower started to rot, so most are harvested smaller. The carrots are still being thinned, so we’ll have bigger ones soon.

More peas are up and new carrots as well. It’s going between freezing and 80 day to day. A bit of a challenge for the brassicae but awakening the perennials nicely.

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Dewey decimal drawings.

Inside is a face covered in crayon. A mug of coffee half gone. A breakfast grandly attempted which achieved a modicum of success. Two very special notes: the names she first gave us written on notes in her own hand.

Outside, the fog is burning off in the sun’s beams of day awakening.

It is time for shoes until the ground wand and the day swings full.

Hours ending.

The softness of the soil entrapped in a milkweed’s grasp. The moments between dog barks, airplanes, and old cars driven by young people insistently down the road. The expansion from seed tray to 4″ pots. The addition of seed trays. The tender trust in Echinacea stems.

There’s so much nutrition in the garden before anything ever touches our tongues.

“Hey honey… is there anything sown in the back left bed because…” Sprint outside.

Dying light.

If I leave the office just when. If the lights time just so. If the traffic behaves just. If, if, if.

I am home with a little light left. Greeted at the door by two gleeful voices, one escorts me to the closet. “Mama work. Mama jacket off?”

Yes, love. As hurriedly as I can. “Mama’s shoes? Closet?” Yes, love. “I do it.” Mmm… My turn. “Up, please.” It is not a question. Outside? “Yesh!”

Outside we traipse. He, on my hip, me seeking peace. Where can I find a sip of calm. Where can I snatch a glimpse of soothing. What can I feed my soul before the light dies.

I uncover the kumquat. I de-leaf the strawberries. I unwrap Bill and find his lit leaves warm at his feet.

I eyeball the compost pile. Is there time? I could…

“Uh oh, mama.” Quickly, I look up. The light is dying. The moment has passed. Only the tips of the neighboring trees are still frosted with the day’s last color. I look over my shoulder. Uh oh, indeed.