Planting Memories, in the Garden

My father would plant a large garden each year at my grandparent’s farmhouse. The produce would be shared between our two families, we would also freeze and can together at summers’ end.

Each January, the Burpee’s Seed Catalogue would be spread open on the kitchen table, with circles around next Springs’ choices. Rarely, were flowers chosen, this was strictly planning ahead for food to fill the pantry and freezer, for the year.

I asked my grandmother once, after noticing how much WORK the garden entailed…”boy, you must REALLY like to garden!!”

“No,” she replied, “I like to eat!”

Well, I had to think about that answer, and I came to the conclusion that without the garden we would have an empty pantry, and only meat in the freezer. She was so wise, and I was in full agreement. I too, liked to eat!

She continued, saying, “when I was your age, there were no stores to buy from. If we didn’t garden, there would be no food for a year.”

Think about that! How spoiled we are now, what a luxury it is to go to a grocery store or Farmer’s Market.

When I look at the above photo, my heart just swells.

My father would mark out the rows. As he began to hoe, I would follow him, poking a small hole into the soil with my finger, dropping one or two seeds into the hole, then cover them lightly with loose dirt. On to the next, then next,… Together, we finished row after row, with the hot sun on our backs. I remember this so vividly, like it was last Tuesday, and the lessons I learned from this simple act, have stayed with me for years.

A few to seeds to ponder…

I no longer remember all of the varieties of vegetables planted, or their location within the garden’s borders. What is vivid in my memory is the time I shared with my father, not only in the garden, but every time we were side by side, engrossed in an activity that required four hands, never two!

He chose me. He chose me to be his “helper”. Granted, my brother was three years younger, a busy toddler, not the caliber of help required. He chose me again, and again, as my brothers grew, the garden remained for the two of us.

If you look at our photo, above, you’ll notice how I’m looking up at him. I looked for approval, guidance, wisdom, correction and for praise. And in his eyes, this is where I found it.

Tiny seeds, sometimes only one was required; seeds of encouragement, pride in a job well done, willingness to help others, gratefulness for the opportunity and for being able to help. A tiny seed planted in a child’s heart, will grow to develop within them their view of themselves and their value in the world around them.

I continue to plant, and garden, without my father by my side. I find myself still looking up at him, knowing he planted within me the knowledge that I. am. able. I am enough. I am ready to work without him, though I never feel like I’m without his presence. I carry with me the last thing he said to me, “You are loved.”

Seeds to grow on.

Friends, I have the chance to express myself on this blog, this little letter to you, and I write the same way I speak. There is very little filter between my thoughts and my fingers as I type on the keyboard.

Whether it’s gardening, recipes, time with family, home decor or DIY’s, I share what I know, and my own personal opinions and recommendations of items I work with and how I use them, after years of experience.

My wish is that I can reach out to you, inspire and encourage you, on whatever topic my fingers take me to.

Stay in touch, please stop by again. There’s so much more I want to share, one topic at a time.

XO,