Inside: A bright spot to the end of the gardening season, why I love Mondays, and when you’re married to a pirate.
A Bright Spot to the End of the Gardening Season
Our first frost arrived right on schedule last week–October 29, the average first frost date for our area, actually. As a gardener, I’m a little sad, a little relieved. Keeping up with a garden–or not keeping up with your garden and feeling guilty about it–can be stressful. But I am quick to remind myself that unpicked produce does add fertilizer back to the soil, so it’s all good.
And now the sad part. Sigh. No more handfuls of cherry tomatoes fresh from the garden. No pretty flowers right outside my door or beds full of bright, cheerful perennials. It’s a wrap for 2017, folks.
And yet. . . A few stubborn holdouts survive. My little gazania flower (above), plus another container of them. A pot of red cabbage that I planted simply for decorative purposes. (I ran out of room for a couple of plants in the cole crops bed, and they’ve worked beautifully in their new role.) Wire grass, a yearly favorite of mine, still spiraling out of the old ice cream churn turned planter. Calibrachoa, also called “Superbells” (the out of focus foliage pictured behind my gazania). Purple salvia, flowers intact, still hanging on, next to the transplanted mums in one of the flower beds.
While I know it’s only a matter of weeks (or days) and these, too, will get bit by colder temps, I appreciate their hardiness, their not giving up without a fight.
Sometimes a little stubbornness can be a good thing.
Why I Love Mondays
Since January Mom and I started this “for now” tradition–shopping on Mondays followed by coffee at Roasted Bean. (Affectionately known by me as “The Bean.”) I won’t say we’ve spent every Monday this way, but most of them. After all, when you’ve got a van full of melting groceries in 95 degree weather, spending an hour or two in deep conversation whilst sipping coffee doesn’t bode well. (I think we need to invest in a large cooler.)
But the weather is solidly colder, and our attendance at The Bean is back to normal–thank God for small good things! A warm spot, a hot beverage, and good conversation.
But it’s more than that. Mondays in a small town, shopping for groceries or farm supplies or produce, you find friendly people everywhere. Folks out and about for much the same reason. People huddled together talking, happy greetings. Little kindnesses and doors held open and “have a good day” sprinkled around generously.
It is a real blessing to find your place in this world and simply live life. Even on a Monday.
When You’re Married to a Pirate
Sometimes we come to these things later in life. Completely oblivious. You think you know someone.
It all started a few weeks ago when Hubmeister carried in a plastic shopping bag from a clothing store. Without comment, he laid the bag on the bed and went about his usual just-got-home-from-work routine.
I went in to investigate.
A frilly white shirt sleeve spilled out from the bag’s opening. I peeked inside and spotted the rest of said shirt and some black material with metal. A hat with a plume lay beside it.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I’m dressing like a pirate,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if every day one dresses up like a swashbuckling adventurer of the high seas. In landlocked Missouri, of all places.
Upon further probing, I discovered it was for a good cause–entertaining the kiddies at church. Handing out treats.
I asked for pictures, and someone snapped this one.
No pirate sightings since then.
What’s happening in your neck of the woods? Tell us about it in the comments.