
it has been 10 days since receiving my
seed catalog, and i have yet to make a decision. sure, i've poured over it, circling what i'd like to have, not for once taking into consideration that i don't live on acreage. what is a girl to do when faced with 120 pages of glorious, heirloom seeds?
here's one thing we've decided. we want to renew our csa membership. we feel that even if we were able to produce all of our own food, we would still like to support our friends/farmers. so with that we know that we should plant seed varieties that our csa farm does not offer. here are the categories we've come up with:
beans- mainly for drying/storing for winter (vegan chili anyone?)
peas- we can't get enough of 'em, and we need some climbers for the kid's 'living' tee pee
cucumbers- only pickling varieties
tomatoes- we get lots of these from the farm, but i can't resist (however i'm only allowing myself 8 varieties- the catalog has 20 pages of heirloom tomatoes! argh!)
herbs- both medicinal and culinary (i seem to lean towards the thai culinary herbs)
cutting flowers- for bee attracting and morning harvests with the kids
that seems sensible enough, right?
oh this catalog, it makes me want to rush the winter and get to the warmth of spring when i can be elbow deep in dirt. gardening, whatever the scale, is a lesson in hope. putting something out there, hoping to get something in return. and we've chosen to go public (ie: the front yard)with our garden, so we have
a lot out of hope hanging out there, just waiting...but i suppose winter has its own lessons to be taught ***err*** one of patience, perhaps? resting? preparation?
so as i
rest in this season,
patiently awaiting spring, i will think of the construction of our new raised beds, our tee pee, the planting of our fruit trees, the aroma of herbs...but i won't push it. spring will be here soon enough; until then i'll delight in a warm house, lots of time for stories and fresh baked bread, and of course, my new knitting habit.