in the whole of a year, seeds

i’m not sure i’m convinced that this is still a good idea. but i don’t like the look of neglect. other places and kinds of writings have survived the turmoil of 2009… perhaps when i should have been giving here the most. so, in the spirit of new beginnings, a rainy day when nothing else is worth the attempt, a return. it is still true that centipedes have too many legs, this much i know.

lately we’ve taken to saying ‘our life resembles a bad high school short story’ or ‘you wouldn’t believe me if i filled you in’ or ‘actually, no, things haven’t been fine.’ well, the first, true. the second, also sometimes true, and even though i understand, it stings. the third, the hardest and most meaningful to say, also true. we still have all our necessary parts, a roof over our heads and food to eat, we still have each other. in the grand scheme of things, it could be a whole lot worse. in the slightly less grand, it’s really too much to handle. but handling it is the only option, for as long as that takes, and coming out on the other end with as little collateral damage as possible.

meanwhile, seeds. the backyard garden was one item of success in a very long and disappointing year. nothing like the tangible accomplishments of growing things–things which can be eaten. a handful of failures, the cucumber seeds were duds (replacements were obtained) the gigantic (also beautiful) potato plants were not only of the wrong variety, they had a ridiculous yield. but in the face of bountiful eggplants, tart-delicious tomatoes which had nary a spot of blight, a rosemary bush bigger than a small child, potatoes can go screw. already, in the midst of this odd, mostly welcome january warm snap, plans for the next spring seeds are underway.

wednesdays all summer and fall were a stolen delight–tea with good friends in the early afternoon followed by farm stand shopping (oh my!) followed by csa pick up (oh my!) followed by yoga and then frequently cooking. who gets to have a day like this mid week? always a moment of rest. a moment of discovery. a moment of yum.

another highlight–beginning to teach the sunniest child (in the sunniest of places) to swim. so many giggles, so many shivers. so much more to come.

the addition of some kitchen appliances that make us feel fully grown up. the lack of job stability that makes us feel lost, and terribly behind in the game. a loss. a fantastic kiss. how does one sum up a whole year?

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