Prairie Lily Arts

From Humble Beginnings

Raindrops cling like crystal chandeliers to tender leaves emerging, as if to magnify the day's scant light.  My feet fall soft on damp ground yet to be tilled and readied for the year's planting.  Where winter weeds now sprawl tangled, soon heirloom tomato stalks tall and straight will rise, towering over squash vines and bush beans.  Cucumbers will teem crisp and fresh for crocks full of Mama's bread and butter pickles. Herbs will frame against the rocks, lending their fragrance to sultry summer evenings, as butterflies dance in pairs above purple plumes and roses of red velvet.

Just Dig In

 

Do you sometimes find opportunities, holidays... whole seasons slip away while you are stuck in planning mode?  I am guilty.  I plan and pre-plan trips, special occasions, and projects.  But I am learning to set aside schedules, research and lists in exchange for sheer spontaneity, enthusiasm and action.

Next week is the official launch of The Homeschool Village Garden Challenge, and I don't want your family to miss a moment! Regardless of space or resource constraints, gardening is an attainable and amazing way for your family to grow memories together.  That, and, well... kids just like to play in dirt!  (Ok, so do I.... let's be real.  The farming gene didn't skip me.  I'll take muddy hands over a lovely manicure any day.)

So while I am sifting through seed packets and hunting down tools scattered throughout the garage, I thought I would share a few ideas and resources with you.

Back To Roots

 
The smell of tomatoes garnet bubbling into sauce thick. Corn silks clinging to my skin. The snap of crisp beans emerald. The ping, ping, ping of magenta and white striped horticulture beans tumbling from pod to bowl... the speckled gray-green mel-mac bowl even a little girl's fumbles couldn't break.

Summer in our house meant harvest.  Crocks were filled with cucumbers pickling, and canning jars bobbed in steel pots billowing with steam, weighing heavy on every stove burner.  The kitchen grew hot and humid before morning gave way to the high noon sun.  My mom would tie an apron about my waist... my sister's... her own.  Dad laced up muddy boots and set to tending rows.