Yesterday afternoon I went to collect our mail from the neighborhood mail vault as usual. After walking to within 10 feet of the cluster I knew we had a package and that it came from my Grandpa Porgy (George). Grandpa had harvested, sorted and carefully packed up and mailed garlic starts for my garden.
These starts are the descendants of garlic planted long ago by my beloved, late Grammie Helen. When we left our old home to move down here two years ago I was heartbroken to discover that in the chaos of packing and moving I’d failed to dig up Grandma’s garlic to bring to our new house. Buying ordinary starts from the store didn’t feel right so we’ve gone without for two years. I couldn’t wait to get these planted, but as always, time is a factor.
My evening chore list included using the apples gathered at a walk several weeks back. I hastily threw together several pies and called it good.
Next dinner was quickly assembled and slid into the oven (zucchini casserole, made with ingredients courtesy of a well-stocked freezer… my girls thought it was gone).
By the time I made it outside dusk already blanket the rain soaked, weed patch I call a garden. The remaining carrots needed to be harvested to make room.
Once the carrots had been gathered and most of the weeds from that row removed I finally planted the garlic. Sorry about the off-center picture, it was dark and I had to guess about where I was aiming the lens. Of course taking a picture of mud, because the garlic starts can’t be seen, is a rather silly thing to do anyway.
While in the garden I tripped over one the raspberry and cascade berry plants given to me by my sister. It was entirely too dark to even contemplate getting these in the ground, but here’s another unfocused, poorly aimed picture, complete with the rotting remnants of our tomato harvest.
After dinner I pulled out some knitting, but nothing came of it. I fell asleep before finishing one row and this is how it greeted me this morning.
Now that the garlic is planted living here feels more permanent. I “talked” with Grandma while planting it and then called Grandpa once finished. He was pleased.