“The game is to be where you are. Be it honestly and as consciously as you know how. Your entire life is a curriculum.” Indeed it is. At 50, I’m finally starting to get that in a real way. Thank you, as always, for your thoughts and your words.
This has been a fun read, especially as I sit by my windows looking at the fresh blanket of snow that has fallen over the four feet still out there. The birds are still feeding frantically at the feeders, as we're expecting another several inches over the next three days (maybe even feet).
I've actually TRIED to grow asparagus three times: in my backyard garden north of Albany in upstate New York; in the school garden where I taught for several years nearer to Albany; and where we live now near the Teton Mountain Range in Wyoming. I got a stalk or three a few times, but no feathery garden ever filled out in any of the three hoped-for asparagus beds. The Wyoming garden has actually been the most successful: we get ONE stalk each spring, and have for 14 years. Here, spring is actually not until the end of June at the very earliest and the first frost can easily be in early August.
Since I really do love to grow my own vegetables and herbs, I've had to commit to planting them in containers loaded onto garden wagons. That way, I can move them into the garage if the overnight temperature reaches below 40ºF. Gotta be where we are.
Ah, yes, being right where I am...this has always been so difficult for me. Even when I was in amazing places, I was thinking ahead, planning ahead, wishing, hoping, and designing in my mind. I greatly enjoyed "Committing to the asparagus." I'm going to use it as a mantra when I find myself on the proverbial fence-"Commit to the asparagus." (Why am I seeing Yoda saying, "To the asparagus commit ?")
This hits at a time when an old friend is, it appears, dying of endometrial cancer. She has always had myriad artistic interests and abilities, but recently began to finally take her writing seriously.
We don't have children either and even though we chose that state of being, like you I still measure things in those age gaps as well. Thanks for the beauty of asparagus. It is a wild creature.
This is so funny. 23 years ago, in my house, I had the same idea about planting asparagus, and wondered if it was worth the investment of time. Ridiculous. I think I will finally do it this year. Thank you for the reminder. And, come to think of it, at least I planted strawberries and blueberry bushes!
What a beautiful piece of writing- thank you so much. Very pertinent this morning as I look out at the rain and fog in my little hometown in the UK and wonder if I ever will move to Portugal - or should I stay and invest more in where I am - grey skies n all.
Oh my, this so resonates with me. Just yesterday I was trying to describe to Doug the whole asparagus - dilemma thing. (I wrote an entire piece for the magazine on how many asparagus patches I've had to leave, moving around this Island, before they were really mature! I had hope, at least!) But in a way, this is part of the reason we're starting now on the big garden up here. Doug wants to grow old(er) on Martha's Vineyard, and I want to be with him, so might as well plan to garden my fool head off until I can't stand up anymore! Thank you for this very poignant piece.
Oh, you hit me hard with this one. We moved into a house a year and a half ago, and I am struggling to love it - it's discouraging waking up every day in a house we haven't quite settled in, and aren't sure we can. I've been waiting for the ground to warm a bit. I love winter, but not so much in this particular building, and gardening has been the one thing to make me feel at home. I received this as both encouragement, contrast, and challenge. This is beautifully expressed. Thank you.
“The game is to be where you are. Be it honestly and as consciously as you know how. Your entire life is a curriculum.” Indeed it is. At 50, I’m finally starting to get that in a real way. Thank you, as always, for your thoughts and your words.
When words nourish a morning, give pause to the day. Thank you.
This has been a fun read, especially as I sit by my windows looking at the fresh blanket of snow that has fallen over the four feet still out there. The birds are still feeding frantically at the feeders, as we're expecting another several inches over the next three days (maybe even feet).
I've actually TRIED to grow asparagus three times: in my backyard garden north of Albany in upstate New York; in the school garden where I taught for several years nearer to Albany; and where we live now near the Teton Mountain Range in Wyoming. I got a stalk or three a few times, but no feathery garden ever filled out in any of the three hoped-for asparagus beds. The Wyoming garden has actually been the most successful: we get ONE stalk each spring, and have for 14 years. Here, spring is actually not until the end of June at the very earliest and the first frost can easily be in early August.
Since I really do love to grow my own vegetables and herbs, I've had to commit to planting them in containers loaded onto garden wagons. That way, I can move them into the garage if the overnight temperature reaches below 40ºF. Gotta be where we are.
Ah, yes, being right where I am...this has always been so difficult for me. Even when I was in amazing places, I was thinking ahead, planning ahead, wishing, hoping, and designing in my mind. I greatly enjoyed "Committing to the asparagus." I'm going to use it as a mantra when I find myself on the proverbial fence-"Commit to the asparagus." (Why am I seeing Yoda saying, "To the asparagus commit ?")
This hits at a time when an old friend is, it appears, dying of endometrial cancer. She has always had myriad artistic interests and abilities, but recently began to finally take her writing seriously.
Don't wait. Don't wait. Don't wait.
We don't have children either and even though we chose that state of being, like you I still measure things in those age gaps as well. Thanks for the beauty of asparagus. It is a wild creature.
Be here now, said Ram Das. Still trying.
This is so funny. 23 years ago, in my house, I had the same idea about planting asparagus, and wondered if it was worth the investment of time. Ridiculous. I think I will finally do it this year. Thank you for the reminder. And, come to think of it, at least I planted strawberries and blueberry bushes!
I love this. And just what I needed to read this morning. Thank you!
Plant the asparagus using older crowns and you will be picking in a year or two. Getting down in the trenches is the best garden therapy. https://www.goodgriefcook.com/in-the-trenches-asparagus/
Gorgeous writing as always, Elissa. Thank you.
What a beautiful piece of writing- thank you so much. Very pertinent this morning as I look out at the rain and fog in my little hometown in the UK and wonder if I ever will move to Portugal - or should I stay and invest more in where I am - grey skies n all.
“Drop the anchor”.. I needed this.
Thank you.🙏🏾
Now, time to plant the dahlia bulbs..
Once again, this is compelling and applicable in the strongest terms. Lovely (tears.)
Oh my, this so resonates with me. Just yesterday I was trying to describe to Doug the whole asparagus - dilemma thing. (I wrote an entire piece for the magazine on how many asparagus patches I've had to leave, moving around this Island, before they were really mature! I had hope, at least!) But in a way, this is part of the reason we're starting now on the big garden up here. Doug wants to grow old(er) on Martha's Vineyard, and I want to be with him, so might as well plan to garden my fool head off until I can't stand up anymore! Thank you for this very poignant piece.
Oh, you hit me hard with this one. We moved into a house a year and a half ago, and I am struggling to love it - it's discouraging waking up every day in a house we haven't quite settled in, and aren't sure we can. I've been waiting for the ground to warm a bit. I love winter, but not so much in this particular building, and gardening has been the one thing to make me feel at home. I received this as both encouragement, contrast, and challenge. This is beautifully expressed. Thank you.