“Useful, poetic,” &c.

Rachel Peden writes of losing the battle against weeds but loving her garden “just the same”:

I Iove it on the day when the earth is prepared and I can take off my shoes and walk barefooted on the fresh, moist, sun-warmed soil. I love it when I put my shoes back on and begin to work, marking off rows and putting in seeds, and almost forgetting to stop in time to start supper. I love it when the first bean sprouts appear, the little bowed green heads first, then the two little green hands held up above the face. A garden makes me feel useful, poetic, comforted, overworked, justified for living, luxurious. I always promise to be faithful to this one, but every year the weeds are more faithful than I. After all, they have nothing else to do, of course.

Rachel Peden, The Land, the People (Bloomington, IN: Quarry Books, 2010).

As late as the first days of November, we still had tiny plum tomatoes growing. But the frost ended that. Our raised beds are now covered with cardboard and waiting for the spring. The first time it snows I want to sit with Elaine at the kitchen table and plan out next year’s crops.

Also from Rachel Peden
Against school consolidation : Dry goods, &c. : Inspiration for writing : “For pies and jelly and philosophy” : “On speaking terms with yourself”