it's IN!!!!!

Okay, well maybe not totally in, but pretty much. I am, of course, talking about the long awaited vegetable garden. I have one more row to go and then it's done! My fingernails are caked in dirt, my skin has a particular brown-ish hue, my shoes are completely sodden and I LOVE it!

I have spent each nap-time for the past week out there in the blazing sun, watering this and planting that. I have forgone my reality TV nights for digging in the dark of night after they've gone to bed. My back aches and I am exhausted beyond measure. I have actually dreamed at night about compost; yes, I really am this enthusiastic about compost. There is a sense of accomplishment and a feeling of - dare I say - pride in the effort I put into it. There is just something special about working hard to do something you've never done before instead of just letting each day be the same as the one before it.

My back aches and I am exhausted beyond measure. This is definitely the life for me.

Being Neighbourly

One thing we have noticed in our town is that it really pays to be neighbourly. We are quite lucky to have such wonderful neighbours on both sides and down the street. Everyone is very friendly and chats on the sidewalk or over the hedges. We love that about living here. It really is the type of town where one can run next door and borrow a cup of sugar from a neighbour (or a can opener as happened in our case).

This week, being neighbourly brought quite the unexpected gift to the boys. One older woman down the street asked if we might be interested in having a swingset for the boys as her son and daughter-in law (who live next door to her) have one that their son has outgrown. Strangely enough, Terry and I had just been out at garage sales that morning looking for a playset for the boys.

This afternoon our other next-door neighbour offered up his services to help Terry carry it over to our house; so off the two of them went and lifted the whole thing, intact, down the road.

Is this a matter of living in a small town or is this the simple return of being neighbourly, no matter where you live? I don't know. All I know is that there are two little toddlers happily climbing and sliding and swinging in what was once an empty space in our backyard.

So many books...

So many books, so little time.

I am so happy that both my boys are learning to love books and "reading." Ben is one for spending much of his time quietly reading to himself, while Sam just loves to have his favourite books read to him; often the same one over and over and over again. I hope to cultivate this love of books over the years so they will continue to grow and learn and enjoy the simple pleasure of sitting quietly with a good book.

I particularly love the picture of the boys' Aunt Sandy, reading to Sam. That one's a "keeper" for me as I treasure her place in their lives so much and will love to have that picture years from now. She, her husband, Mark, Abby (aka "Barbara') and Tyler (aka "T") are incredibly special to the boys. They usually take them for sleepovers about once a month (yippee!!!); even since they were only weeks old, so the boys know them very well and adore them (gross understatement). We are blessed beyond measure to have their influence as the boys grow and mature.

Speaking of their influence, I should get the boys' bag ready as they're heading over there for a special little visit this afternoon so I can get some gardening done. Did I mention that I love those guys? Oh, I definitely do!

Garden Fever

Well, you know your city-bred life's a-changin' when you are so excited by the prospect of spreading manure that you are on pins and needles waiting for your husband to come home so you can get at it. Yep, it's true. I'm having fits of glee over manure. Now THERE'S a phrase I never thought I'd say out loud.

I pored over the books detailing different types of manure, figured about how much I would need per square foot and scrutinized the prices from different sources. This is it. This is the last phase before the garden, at long last, goes in. I can't stand the wait. Heaven help me when I finally get to rip those bags open; I might actually keel over from excitement.

The seeds haven't even been planted and already I have garden fever. I'm not a patient sort, but I'm slowly learning that this is one virtue I'm going to have to somehow come to possess if I'm to get through this season. It's all about wait, wait, wait and I'm usually about go, go, go. This will be a learning experience for me in more ways than just knowing how and when to plant. I'm going to have to learn to live in a way that is somewhat foreign to me. Now, if only there were a fast-track way to do it.

Well, I've sat for as long as I can; I really do want to get out there and get my hands dirty. Must go. The manure pile awaits. sigh. Bliss.

Together

I love pictures like this one. Mom took this picture when we met her for brunch on Mother's Day. We were just walking along outside the restaurant, letting the boys blow off a little steam before packing them in the car again for an hour long ride back home.

Here are the four of us, walking along together, with no idea that this would eventually become one of those moments that we treasure later when we think back on it. As soon as I saw the picture, I melted a little inside. I hardly ever need any kind of reminder to feel incredibly blessed by the life I have been given, but it's still nice to get every once in a while anyhow.

Terry was an unexpected gift to me. I was in my thirties when we got married and it's safe to say, I was pretty sure "Mr. Right" must have missed my street when he was out looking for me. I was determined not to "settle" - although, not without some close calls in that department - and it was so very worth the wait. He turned out to be everything I had been looking for, and then some. And then some. And then some.

After that, to top it all off, we are very quickly given these two precious, ridiculously funny, sweet boys. It gets a little crazy around here sometimes . . . okay, a lot crazy, but that's okay.

We're together and that's the best place to be.

Cheating

Well, they say confession is good for the soul. We'll see.

So the 100-mile challenge started today. I'm very enthusiastic about it. I have purchased my stock of local foods to get us through until we can go to the Farmer's Market on Saturday. I've been emailing the participants encouraging gung-ho missives to keep the spirits high. I've cheated already.

Oops. Did I say that out loud? Yeah. It's true. Day One and I may have partaken in one small, teeny weeny, mint smoothie chocolate square. GASP!! I know. It's astonishing how quickly good intentions can fall by the wayside. The thing is, it was a Mother's Day gift so how could I, in good conscience, let it go to waste? I just didn't have enough room in me to gobble up that last one yesterday. In light of the fact that it was a gift, eating it was really the honourable thing to do.

Yeah, I know that argument has a thousand holes in it. So NOW, about 4 hours late, the challenge truly begins here. Truly. That was it for cheating. I feel sufficiently guilty enough to get motivated into taking the next half hour and cleaning my cupboards of all non-local items and box them up far, far away from the kitchen.

But at least, while taking the boys for a walk this morning, I did, in fact, pass up the pear from Argentina. That's good, right?

I think I have to say though, my only real consolation in the midst of my fallen state is that, about 1 hour ago I received an email from one of the pastors who is also doing the challenge; it was something about a weak moment and a tub of Moose Tracks ice cream. Well, you know what they say about confessions...

One More Day

Well it's almost here. Less than 12 hours and the 100 Mile Challenge is ON! I'm not going to lie to you, it's been a binge-fest today of all the things we won't be consuming for the next 3 months. I'm planning to squeeze in one last pop, a banana, and maybe even some pineapple if I'm not too full. I know, I know, it totally defeats the purpose of the thing if I consume 3 months worth of non-local food before this whole thing begins.

I have to tell you though, I'm already much more aware of how far our food travels. Today I took the boys for a walk and, as usual, picked them up an apple for the way home (a major treat for them) and myself a pear. I looked at the sticker on the pear - which we can grow right here in season - and it was from Argentina. Seriously??? A plane, truck, boat, something, had to travel all the way from Argentina just so I could have a pear when I felt like it? It's eye opening.

Am I only going to eat 100% local food when this is all over? Will I become a locavore convert to the extreme? Not likely. But I might just change a few habits and perhaps be just a bit more aware about choosing an Ontario or even Canadian option when deciding between two similar products. And maybe, just maybe, I'll do without something I have an urge for and choose something in season instead. Who knows?

Stranger things have happened.

Local Honour

Speaking of getting "back to the good", I came across a family today who brought life to that idea.

In getting ready for the 100 Mile Challenge (2 more days!), I headed to our local flour mill for some staple items. Oak Manor Farms is a family business which sells its product nationally but has a retail outlet right in their milling barn. I had been there with the boys a few weeks ago, scouting out the local offerings, so we were instantly recognized by one of the owners. That, in itself, is somewhat unusual when one is used to purchasing from large nameless, faceless store chains.

We proceeded into the store where the boys, being one-and a -half year old boys, started wandering through open doors into an office (where the other owner was working and happily allowed the interruption), behind the cash register (pressing buttons, by the way - AAGGHH!!!), and picking up bags of dry goods to deposit elsewhere. The woman was as thrilled as I was horrified. She simply said, "They're babies and they can't possibly hurt anything." In this "no touch" world, that was a relief to let them wander and know it was okay.

Once I'd loaded up my many purchases, I realized they didn't take Interac. Of course not. It's a farm store. I don't know what I was thinking. What happened next amazed me. She said to me, "Don't worry about it. Just take it and send me a cheque when you think about it." WHAT???? This is a legitimate business whose product sells in major grocery store chains and they're telling me to just send them a cheque whenever? And then, to top it all off, she promptly took the hand Ben offered, walked him out to the car amid much chattering, and strapped him into the carseat herself.

In this world of what often amounts to stand-offish relationships with customers, it was so encouraging to see that, even now, a hand shake is still worth something and the honour system still lives.

So Different

People always ask me, "Are they twins?" That baffles me. They're the same size, they're sitting in the same stroller, dressed alike and are clearly the same age. Um, yeah - they're twins.

At the same time, I can't fault them for wondering. I just see them as two totally different boys. They aren't "twins" to us, they are just brothers who share the same birthday. I want them to know that we don't think of them as half of a whole, but as two completely exceptional, very different, and not at all interchangeable kids.

And WOW are they different. I might dress them alike and they may look as alike as any other siblings, but they are not really too similar in any other way. I'm very glad of that. I want them to be their own person, choose their own friends and their own interests. People are always striving to be "the norm". I want more from these guys.

I want Sam to continue to be the quiet, mechanically-minded, adventurous person he is today.

I want Ben to continue to be the funny, fiesty, enthusiastic kid he is now.

I'm glad they have each other but I'm especially glad we have them.

Canning

Have I mentioned that I love canning? I do. I really, really do.

When I'm in the middle of it and have been standing at the stove for my third hour, my hair is all frizzy around my face from the steam and I look around at the mess I'm going to have to clean up once this is all over, I don't know - I just smile inside. It's a little bizarre, isn't it? I'm sure, back in the day, people were thrilled when they were finally able to buy ready-made preserves from the grocery store after having had to "put them up" themselves for so many years, but not me. After having bought ready-made for so many years, I LOVE the idea of making them myself. Everything tastes better when you make it yourself. It just does.

So today, in response to the 100-mile challenge that I'll be starting on Friday, I spent the day in a big steam-bath of a kitchen, making local tomato sauce. I'm not going to lie to you - I kept pulling spoons out of the drawer to sneak a taste as it was cooking. OH YUM! It was delicious.

But now that it's all done and the jars are all filled and lined up on the counter waiting to go to the cellar, I look at the mess left behind and see, not the mounds of pots and canning supplies all over the place, but a product of my own hard work and the enjoyment of my day. Too often we can simply crack open a can without a thought to where it came from. Not today. I spoke with the farmer who I bought the tomatoes from and I know the ones who sold me the onions. Each jar is a labour that I remember and a memory that I loved.

Backwards from this progressive world that is so quickly moving forward to every convenience? Perhaps. But I can live with that.

100 Mile Challenge

8 more days to get in that last Big Mac, the last glass of pop, the last pre-packaged food, the last drop of sugar...

On May 15th, our family is joining a group of people from our church who will be doing the 100 Mile Diet Challenge, based on the book (and now, TV series). We will endeavour to eat only local foods, grown within 100 miles of our home for 100 days.

I've been the one doing the sourcing of local foods and ingredients in our area and, I have to say, I'm amazed at what we have here. It is the land of plenty in Ontario. Some provinces are unable to grow wheat, but we have a local farm and flour mill just 5-10 minutes from here. We have fruit in season, vegetables of all kinds and any type of meat you could want. The trick is just finding it.

I think the one more difficult aspect will be eating within the season because, while all the foods are available, we are used to eating conveniently, not seasonally. We can get strawberries from California anytime, we don't need to wait until they start growing here. We can get mangos, grapefruit, lemons, lime, olive oil, almonds, sugar and rice - all of which are not grown in our area. We are used to having whatever we want, whenever we want it, so the biggest adjustment might be just learning to say "no" to ourselves. We are a society who gives ourselves anything, whether we need it or not. This will be a tough lesson to learn, I think. Waiting for the season and telling ourselves it's okay to do without.

I'm excited. It will be challenging; cooking with what you have on hand, instead of buying what you want to cook. Hopefully it will help us grow in more ways than simply our health.

Live seasonally. Grow bountifully. Eat locally.

This is my mantra. 8 more days.

We're on our way! Terry single-handedly moved the shed off my garden plot last night. Yippee!!!! One step closer. . . If only I were as diligent with my poor seedlings as I have been with all my planning and dreaming.

I transplanted some seedlings from the peat pods to containers today and I fear I am a week or two too late. They're looking sorry and pitiful now. That's not even counting the entire "crop" of cabbage that I wiped out with a spatula. Don't ask. Just trust me that it can be done.

So, here's hoping that my little "babies" survive my rather neglectful treatment of late, to even make it outdoors to their new home.

Garden Miracle

Well it's a garden MIRACLE!

I finally decided today was the day to put aside my rather supreme disappointment about the container of peas and lettuce that became food for our wildlife neighbours. It was time to move on after my somewhat significant mourning period. I planned to dump out the whole sorry contents and start over - this time with some high tech security to keep the critters out (a.k.a. chicken wire).

But, to what did my wondering eyes appear??? A few tiny sprouts and a miracle dear! (Not DEER, as in the wildlife. That seems to be the only pest I DON'T have in my yard, thankfully).

I couldn't resist running inside, grabbing my camera and taking a few pictures, lest it seem later to have been a hallucination. But no. It's REAL. I even dragged Terry over to crouch down and inspect these tiny little green shoots. Suffice to say, he genuinely did try to summon up the same level of enthusiasm I was showing. Bless his heart for trying.

Now here's the dilema. The pests did such a thorough job of tunnelling through the soil that the seeds that survived their onslaught have been displaced so I don't actually know what little sprouts those are, as I planted 3 different vegetables in that container. It will be a mystery until the day they start producing, I suppose.

But it's a miracle. The amazing thing is that they survived without any help from me. All the books I've been reading all Winter, reminding me to coddle the little seeds and sprouts or they'd simply rot in the ground. And here, with me assuming they bought the farm ages ago, left them outside on their own, with just the rain and God.

Fortunately, God is a much better gardener than I could ever be. I think He knew I needed to see something good come of this first planting, to keep me hopeful about the whole garden. You see, I'm trying to change something about myself through this and He knows it. So, He sort of had to remind me that it's not about me. Sure, I need to do my part, but His part is bigger. He can make things happen all on His own.

And He did.