When I planted the veggie garden this year, I didn’t know if we’d be in the house through the summer or already moved before the first tomato ripened. As it’s turned out, we’re moving in less than 4 weeks. The plane tickets are booked for Aug. 1. (Oh, boy, I have a lot of packing to do still.)
Which means we really won’t be eating those tomatoes I carefully selected at the nursery. Roma, an heirloom Brandywine, and two others whose names I can’t recall. I am enjoying the herbs, radishes, snow peas, rhubarb and asparagus, though. So it was definitely worth planting this year.
And while I may not get to reap the bounty of my hard work, I find the act of growing things relaxing and pleasing. We ate snow peas for dinner last night – snow peas that my kids helped me plant, poking the seeds and their little fingers into the holes I made for them.
Now that our time in this house is coming to a close, I’m getting a bit misty eyed at the idea of leaving. I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet. It took me a long time to get used to living in this house and I wonder how I’ll feel when it comes time to choose another one? It’ll be OK – it’s all part of the adventure. And there’s no point in holding on to something you’ve outgrown just because of the uncertainty of what else might be out there.
All things grow – snow peas, tomatoes, children, even me.