|I made some "row" markers|
I'm learning that this whole growing your own food thing takes a lot of patience. And a lot of trust that what you plant in the ground will actually produce something edible! I've been checking on the mini-farm about every other day, and while there is progress it is slow going.
|Pea 11/ 29|
I'm sure this impatience is a symptom of living in a fast-paced society where anything I want is fairly easily within reach. If I wanted peas I could just go to the store and buy some. Why plant them myself and wait for them to grow? I mean, really; if I wanted soup I could just go to a restaurant and buy some. Why make it myself?
Why? Because the art of caring for oneself, of knowing how to nourish oneself from the ground up is becoming lost and I want to keep it alive. And I know that in learning to tend to the lives of the plants that will sustain us, I am learning how better to sustain myself.
Besides being a place which will contribute to our physical sustenance, I am finding that the mini-farm is a restorative haven. I love visiting. My favorite part is listening to the ground absorb the water. It sort of snap-crackle-pops its way down to the roots of the little baby veggies.
|Radish + Beet 11/24|
|Beet + Radish 11/29|
As a nurse, I work three twelve-hour shifts a week. Sometimes I have to stop by and water on my way to work at about six am. On Friday I did just that, and knowing that I would be taking care of a patient who is dying I took an extra moment to thank the earth for giving life even when life is being lost. That act helped give me the perspective I needed to keep my attitude positive throughout the shift.
Another joy I've discovered is in sharing the garden with others. Today J and I watered the garden after church, and in doing so attracted some of the children. We showed them what plants we were growing, and they giggled with delight when the water "accidentally" squirted them. As we were about to leave, a couple of our friends asked how the garden was growing, and we eagerly led them back to the garden to show off its progress. It is fun to share the joy of new growth, a foretaste of the joy that will come in sharing the harvest.
Except for the parsnips, everything we have planted has begun to sprout! The chard and kale look a lot like the beets and broccoli, respectively.
I've saved the best for last; my favorite are the fava beans!
Waiting for the crops to grow is an exercise in patience, but there is joy to be found within the process.
What are you waiting for? How can you find joy in the space that is created by waiting?