Home > Great Big Greenhouse Blog > December 2016 > BONNIE'S GARDEN--Food for the Table, Food for the Soul

BONNIE'S GARDEN--Food for the Table, Food for the Soul

A favorite customer came in a couple of days ago—the guy I mentioned in the blog below—and inspired me to re-post this blog from a couple of years ago…

...A long-time customer came in on Saturday.  He has to be in his 90’s.  He always comes in December, as soon as the new flower and veggie seeds come in and begins painstakingly picking out packages of seeds.  He ends up getting a boatload of seeds for cucumbers, peppers, green beans, squash, melons, morning glories, etc.  I asked him one time what he did with all the stuff he grew.  He grinned. “Food for the table; food for the soul.”

I’ve thought about those words from time to time—usually when I’m fretting over the three cabbage loopers I found on my kale or that I’ve got two wilted leaves on my cucumber (oh no, not wilt again!) or when I’m sitting in my rocker on the back deck, tired and muddy from working in the garden.

As much as I love getting fresh produce for my table, as much as I love the fact that fresh-picked veggies just plain taste better, I’ll admit there’s something just a little bit magic about planting a tiny speck of a seed and winding up with an eight foot tall tomato plant.  When I plant my little cucumber seeds out in the garden and eventually end up picking enough cucumbers to put up twelve quarts of pickles doesn’t that feed some little part of me—besides my stomach?  Gardening is every bit as much art as it is science.

When I plant zinnia seeds, I'm not always thinking about a beautiful bouquet of pink, red, yellow and white on my table.  When I plant lavender, I'm not always thinking about sprigs of fragrance in my linen closet.  When I plant oregano, I'm not always thinking about a pot of delicious sauce bubbling on my stove.  Sometimes, I get so bogged down in the mechanics that I forget the pay-off.  

I may get side-tracked by the aphids on my Knock-Out rose or the cabbage loopers on my broccoli.  When I pick up that bright package of seeds—or that little brown bulb—I sometimes forget that there is magic there.  When I’m scrubbing the dirt from underneath my fingernails, I sometimes forget that I was taking part in a small miracle. Planting that zinnia seed, that squash seed or that gladiolus bulb doesn’t seem like a miracle—but it is.

Why not participate in a few miracles and create food for the table as well as food for the soul?  You'll be so glad you did...

(And, in case you’re wondering, the customer is 93 and credits gardening for keeping him young-at-heart.)
Posted: 12/12/2016 by Bonnie Pega | with 0 comment(s)
Comments
Blog post currently doesn't have any comments.
 Security code

Subscribe