I knew that I needed to start harvesting earlier this morning. The salad mixture that I planted indoors in February, took on vacation with me to Kingston in March and transplanted to the vegetable garden on May 6, have been growing profusely. At 7:30 I was picking salad greens and bagging them when my gardening buddy arrived.
Many of the herbs over-wintered this year. We put together a nice mix of thyme, oregano, chives, and dill in little bundles. We wrapped the bottoms of the stems in a paper towel, dipped in water and then put in a plastic bag. Should be good for days.
There was still some rhubarb. Our three rhubarb plants were just moved last year, so I am babying them this year and not taking too much.
We discussed the wisdom of giving day lilies. After all, they are DAY lilies. Those yellow ones you see blooming will be curled up tomorrow. What prompted me to go ahead with them was a memory:
Mid-winter of 1980, I was a single Mom with a 2 year-old living in Belleville. One blustery evening my sister Arlene appeared at my door step having taken the bus or train from Toronto. She was covered in huge snowflakes and she was carrying a bunch of fresh flowers. I do not remember how long those flowers lasted, but I do remember feeling like the queen when she gave them to me.
I am hoping that whoever receives these flowers when they visit FareShare will feel the same way.... like a queen.
When Ted delivered the greens/herbs/flowers to FareShare slightly after 9, there was a message for him: He needed to go home immediately because I had an appointment in Peterborough for 1 hour later! Oops! (Guess we need to get used to taking our cellphones with us, Luddites that we are.)
One of the staff insisted on walking with him to the door because she just had to tell him what happened two weeks ago when we brought in bunches of lily of the valley.
Two weeks ago, a woman and her very old mother came into the FareShare space. The very old mother immediately started crying. Lily of the Valley is the national flower of her homeland. They were never allowed to pick them. She burst into tears when she realized that she could take some home with her.
I wonder if we will hear another story about our spirea blooms next week. Today, I had the strong urge to include spirea blooms in the arrangements even though they were starting to shed their petals like confetti.
Maybe someone needed confetti today.
“Memories warm you up from the inside.
But they also tear you apart.”
Haruki Murakami
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