A sprout, green shoots of hope appeared in the garden bed today. My chives have surfaced from its winter hibernation. It had been 10 weeks when we left the Deanna Greens greenhouse in Defiance, just before Thanksgiving. By lantern light we harvested all the herbs and greens we had left that evening. There had not been need to get to the farm since snow has been close to null, no need to check on the 3-season structure. Dean, Midnight, and I observed signs of where an animal had laid on the other side of the bed. Our labrador sniffed the area thoroughly “who has been sleeping in my bed?!”
This mild sunny afternoon in early February called my name to the countryside. Perusing our 3-season structure, and then for a long walk around Boone Hollow Farm with Dean and Midnight. Midnight lead the way up the hill, passed the farm neighbor’s sprouting garlic field we help plant in November. Then a stroll along the cedar ridge, down another neighbor’s gravel driveway, back near our greenhouse, then over to the barn, and circling the brush piles before our return to the greenhouse. Our landlord must have set the one brush pile on fire as there were a few lasting embers and a small trail of smoke surrounded by ashes. Present moment, mindful observations of nature. The walk and fresh air revived my soul after this weary week.
Hope is like those February sprouts of chives and garlic. Perennial faith believes a flourishing crop and bountiful harvest in the not too far future. Lasting embers will once again ablaze a fire to light up the darkness and give warm comfort. The ashes of cancer lie on the ground while my daughter lights the world with her strength, faith, and love.
My typical holiday season is hustle and bustle, and then finally peace. It’s the preparations for gatherings and gifts for Dean and I’s big family. Never fancy dinners or extravagant gifts, as we cannot afford so. Simple. This year though, I am not so rushed somehow. Let’s see how I feel after my gift shopping adventures tomorrow evening. We have found a few gifts already, but waited for the right payday and the weather to finally cooperate. Main Street St. Charles has their “Holiday Traditions” which includes evening shopping on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Carolers, chestnuts roasting over an open fire, hot cocoa for $2, fife & drums, parades with all the seasonal characters in an ambiance that mellows you into the holiday spirit. I work my weekends at one of the Main Street shops, Olde Town Spice Shoppe. It has been fun being on the retailer’s side this season. Everyone likes to eat, right?! The employee 10% discount is wonderful, and gift selections have been easy. My family is no different than yours, food makes them smile. The weather promises to get winter frightful again at the end of the week, so this is hoping I find all the remaining Christmas gifts while on Main Street tomorrow evening. Gift wrapping this weekend, and then reflection of what this holiday season is about. Peace on earth and goodwill towards men, women, and children! Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Sometimes I do not care, or want to care. Right now I am too tired to care. My head spins. It hurts. Am I an apathetic person? No, I just need to rest. To have no cares in this weary world… That was my day on Friday. A headache from hell, and it finally subsided into the evening hours, and sleep swallowed it… The Memorial Day 3-day weekend was met with markets on Saturday and Sunday. I was at the spice shoppe, selling BBQ rubs and teas for pouring over ice this balmy weekend. Local folks and tourists searched for that missing ingredient to make their recipes more spectacular than the last. Dean went to two farmers’ markets this weekend. Not as busy, but just as excitable with the locals and tourists. By Sunday late afternoon, after I closed the shoppe I headed home to gather the food and dog for Dean and I’s first overnight at the greenhouse. Dean greeted me at Boone Hollow Farm as I drove the Jimmy in the upper field road rounding the bend, his smile and his hand waved me in. What a heavenly evening and night … just what I needed. The screenhouse had a cool breeze flowing through the mesh. The citronella candle glowed to ward off the bugs and make for an exotic ambiance. Frogs and crickets croaked and hummed throughout the night. We anticipated the howl of the local coyotes, but never did hear. Midnight, our big black labrador probably deterred their visit. The night sky was cloudy with flashes of lightning in the distant and few rumbles of thunder. No rain until later, but the raindrops sooth my busy mind into la-la land. Moonlight and the stars shined somewhere in the night as I recall waking for a few short minutes. Dean and the dog were restless. Finally my partner’s snoring chimed with the morning bird tweets just as the darkness slipped away. I managed to get back to sleep for a 7:00am rising. Dean slept for another hour while I read. We finished our camp stove sausage and egg breakfast with a piece of homemade strawberry-rhubarb coffee cake and hot hibiscus tea. And then the greenhouse became our work station. I cleaned terra-cotta pots, and potted our basil and dill. Dean worked on the structure and potted wandering jews into the coco-lined baskets. New edible and adorable plants for the market. Another storm was brewing, yet we waited for Grandpa’s visit before calling it a day. My uncle and aunt brought Grandpa to Boone Hollow Farm. My grandfather and uncle were well impressed with the struture Dean and I rebuilt. My artist aunt said the screenhouse would make the perfect studio. Yes, art in the making. My thoughts precisely. A quick visit, back in their vehicle just as the nickel-size drops came full force. An electric storm finished off our time at the memorable camping trip. But more about the evening of Memorial Day later … a bit of patriotic history in the family. So glad apathy does not reside more than a day. Too much to experience. Life is an adventure.
When we get beyond imperfections and flaws in ourself and others, then with faith we can fly like an eagle … “But those who keep waiting for the LORD will renew their strength. Then they’ll soar on wings like eagles; they’ll run and not grow weary; they’ll walk and not grow tired.” Isaiah 40:31 International Standard Version of the Bible. The views are spectacular!
I just have a couple of gifts to wrap and brunch preparations this evening. I get better each year with do-ahead plans for the gatherings and celebrations. But I am weary by Christmas Eve. What I grow weary of is the pettiness that people bring with the holidays … and expectations galore! Do you remember the Billy Crystal movie City Slickers where he is told by the lone cowboy (Palance), “Find that ‘just one thing’?” I believe in Christmas and the gift God brought us with His Son Jesus. Nothing else matters. In a few minutes I will attend church, focus on that “just one thing” Jesus, Our Gift, worship Him alone, and allow His presence to permeate the remainder of my evening and Christmas Day. Christmas blessings to you!