From Radishes to Sweet Peas
Weeding this morning. The girls helped investigate the progress of the strawberries and taste-tested some baby-reds. We should have a bowlful in a few more days. Is it just me, or are Colorado gardens slow going?
Little A helped me wash off a bunch of my least favorite veggies in the garden, radishes (yet, I am trying to come around because they grow like the weeds!). I couldn't resist the sight. I told her, "Keep cleaning the dirt off in the water bucket!" while I rushed in to grab the camera. She looked as dirty as the fresh plucked vegetable.
And this year, we are growing peas for the first time. They are my favorite sight in the garden with whimsical, delicate vines and blossoms.
As mundane as weeding really is, the time can be such a fun "schoolroom" when the girls are close by, and when they are off playing, it is the one of the best time to think of family and friends, dream a little, and just pray.
Wishing you a wonderful week. And happy gardening!
The prayer of the farmer kneeling in his field to weed it, the prayer of the rower kneeling with the stroke of his oar, are true prayers heard throughout nature. {Ralph Waldo Emerson}
Little A helped me wash off a bunch of my least favorite veggies in the garden, radishes (yet, I am trying to come around because they grow like the weeds!). I couldn't resist the sight. I told her, "Keep cleaning the dirt off in the water bucket!" while I rushed in to grab the camera. She looked as dirty as the fresh plucked vegetable.
And this year, we are growing peas for the first time. They are my favorite sight in the garden with whimsical, delicate vines and blossoms.
As mundane as weeding really is, the time can be such a fun "schoolroom" when the girls are close by, and when they are off playing, it is the one of the best time to think of family and friends, dream a little, and just pray.
Wishing you a wonderful week. And happy gardening!
The prayer of the farmer kneeling in his field to weed it, the prayer of the rower kneeling with the stroke of his oar, are true prayers heard throughout nature. {Ralph Waldo Emerson}