2012 Garden Journal: final reminisce

It's almost January... and my poor garden greens in the cold frame died a frigged death weeks ago... officially declared a no go the first full week of December. That is about two weeks longer than last year, so we are making progress... right?



I am thankful that our experiments are working to create a longer 'growing season' each time, but without adding extra expenses for a greenhouse and/or growing lights [or similar set up] I am just not sure that we can grow something year round outside.

Our temps have ranged from a negative one to high of fifty five, giving us this nice large range of variables to learn from... and my old, recycled cold frame just hasn't been able to keep up. But Yah willing... there is next year.


The yard looks so strange with only one raised garden bed left, everything else is gone... no chicken coop, no container gardens, and no outward signs of life anywhere. Just snow, slumbering plants and ponders of where will next years garden be.

As we wait - we are spending some of our evenings occupied with planning our 'hope' garden for the next season, with piles of seed catalogs and library books, articles from online sources and precious photos of possibilities. I cannot help it, its in my blood... and I do believe it will always be something I try to do... no matter where Abba leads us. I have such fond memories of growing up on the farm, it was one of the most precious seasons of my life and I truly loved every moment... even when the wood stove stopped burning in the middle of the night and you dreaded being the first one to get up.

It was hard work... but it was worth every minute.

My momma is a gardener, as was my grandmother, and even my mothers grandmother. My great uncle, on my mothers side, was {is} a homesteader, he also bred and utilized draft horses. Clydesdale's mostly. He is in his mid eighties and can still out roof a twenty year old man. His father, was a homesteader and his grandfather before him... along with being a horse team logger. Yep. Its in my blood.

It is hard work... but it is worth every minute.

I am thankful that we are able to 'stead' our backyard, the neighbors never minded our chickens and even ask about the possibilities of us getting a new flock... our landlord encourages our gardens and has been more than accommodating to our agrarian passions. But I long for rolling hills, heavy woods and rooster crows... my heart aches for the smell of sustainable earth and thick hearty coffee. My mind cannot forget yes mam and no sir and I really like the sound of y'all. Its in my blood.

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