Happy Superb Owl Sunday and Start of Garden Season to you and yours. I’ve sown my first onion seeds today; therefore I consider February 13, 2022 to be the start of this season. It’s that time of year—making the best of plans, ordering seeds, getting totally unrealistic about what I can accomplish in one year—it’s simply the best. I’ve got a lot of garden-related plans as usual.

Now that I have a seed-starting setup that can accommodate most of what I want to start, it helps to have a schedule—of course I start indoors, but once we hit April I’m sowing both indoors and out. I’m leaving my dates a bit vague on purpose; I’d rather work within rough timeframes so that I’m not stressed and also to account for variations in weather—March through early May is a real weather roller coaster in Minnesota.

I already bought my seeds for this year, and most of them have arrived. I shopped at both Seed Savers Exchange and High Mowing Organic Seeds. I usually try to do as many heirlooms as possible but this year I’m opting for more f1 hybrids that have been bred for disease resistance. I’d like to see if their yield is higher, too.

Without further ado, here is one northern gardener’s schedule for 2022. I realize this is a lot. I am an ambitious gardener but I think gardening is cool no matter your goals or level of interest. Maybe you just want to grow a tomato in a pot, and I think that’s awesome. Nevertheless, it helps me stay organized if I have a plan before the madness of spring sets in.

Mid February

• Start leek and onion seeds inside – DONE!
• Prune trees and shrubs that need it (exception: magnolia, which gets pruned later)

Early March

• Start dahlias, lettuce, and parsley inside

Mid March 

• Start peppers, chamomile, and okra inside

Late March

• Start basil, cilantro, and holy basil inside

Early April

• Transplant lettuce seedlings into hoop house, sow lettuce seed around them
• Start tomatoes, brussels sprouts, tithonia, cosmos, zinnias inside (replaces lettuce tray)
• Direct sow snap peas, collards, kale, mustard greens, chard, carrots and radishes outside (seeds)
• Remove cages from shrubs, place around tulips instead

Mid April

• Start cucumbers inside (use compostible pots)
• Set out tulip pots wherever they’re needed

Late April

• Transplant onions into half barrel
• Transplant shallots into strawberry bed
• Dig up and find homes for hops
• Put up new trellises by deck

Early May

• Pot up nasturtiums
• Acquire other annuals for one or two large front yard pots
• Dig up and get rid of one gooseberry bush
• Acquire other herbs for herb spiral and plant (rosemary, oregano, thyme, sage, etc)
• Move compost bin
• Create new raspberry bed (like this) and transplant raspberries into it
• Sow Dutch white clover all around raspberries in their new home
• Plant new hedgerow (!) where the raspberries were
• Remove cages from shrubs; transfer to newly-potted annuals
• Get seed potatoes ready
• Plant new climbing rose and Virgin’s Bower (Clematis virginiana) plants around deck
• Plant sale!!

Mid May

• Move around prairie plants as necessary for new driveway, cutting garden
• Plant okra, tomatoes, sweet peppers (weather permitting)
• Plant green beans, runner beans, potatoes
• Plant cucumbers

Late May

• Plant cutting garden: tithonia, zinnia, dahlias, cosmos
• Plant Brussels sprouts in tank after carrots are done, or thinned out enough to make room
• Plant hot peppers in tank after radishes are done, or thinned out enough to make room
• Plant annuals in pots after tulips are done

June-July

• Sow cilantro and ‘teddy’ dill after garlic harvest is done
• Patio and path paver work
• Fencing work
• Fruit harvesting season! Sour cherries, currants, gooseberries

Aug-Sep

• Plant more Pennsylvania sedge if needed around new patio

Early to mid-May is my craziest time of year; the week leading up to Mothers Day is usually the most intense. Part of the reason for that is I like to attend the annual Friends School Plant Sale at the state fairgrounds, so I have to get ready for new perennials, annuals, and everything else. The past few years I’ve been taking most or all of that week off work, so it’s easier to cram lots of my to do list into one week. 

Of course, all of these plans are made knowing some things may not be possible depending on the weather. The last few years, we’ve had light frosts the first and second weeks of May, so I’ve had to be more conservative with setting out really tender annuals such as tomatoes and peppers.

My vegetable garden layout is here for your perusal; it’s not terribly exciting anymore because I’ve figured out what grows well in this space and now it’s just a matter of rotating things around as best I can.

We’ve got some exciting things going on this year, not least of all my husband setting up a pottery studio in our brand new garage. Some light landscaping will need to be done around that project, including a brand new fence and gate. I’ll also have to retool the garden area that’s adjacent to the driveway after we’re done replacing that (the old driveway was a casualty of construction equipment).

I’m also really excited to move my raspberries, for so many reasons. Not the least of which is: they are in too shady of a spot and our harvests have been puny for several years. I want to revitalize them, and move them into a spot where they will be more productive. I will also plan better this time so that they are more contained.

I’m downright silly excited about the new cutting garden I’m going to create. I’ve never grown dahlias before, and they sound a little bit challenging. But I’ll pair them with easy-to-grow zinnias and cosmos, so if they fail the whole area should still look good. I’m also planting a climbing rose! I still have plenty of pollinator supports / native plants all over the yard, and I will always make sure they are in the majority, but I’ve decided it’s OK to add a handful of plants that are mostly just for me.

Get ready, get set, and here we go: gardening is underway for the year. Thank goodness.

Well, it’s another pandemic year in the books. We had good times and bad times in 2021, just like you most likely did.

We had so many good things. A remodeled bathroom! A new garage! (Note: not quite done yet as of 1/1.) Difficult health issues in our immediate and broader families overshadowed us the whole year. Ironically, not a single one of them was pandemic-related, but each was pandemic-affected. Happily, we all ended the year healthy and my appreciation for times of good health continues to grow.

But let’s get on to gardening. What lessons did I learn in 2021? What’s in store for 2022?

Honestly, most of the lessons I learned this year were tangential to gardening. For example, I learned hard lessons about trying to please hard-to-please people. I said no to many, many gardening-related “opportunities,” some fun and some less fun, for the sake of trying to be less busy and create more space for relaxation and spontaneity in my life. And I found myself relieved at having taken on significantly less than in previous years.

Here’s a list of my top 5 takeaways from 2021.

1. Experiment.

I moved the kids’ old fairy garden tanks into a sunnier area in fall 2020, with the idea of maybe growing some veggies in the new spot. I knew they’d get full sun in spring and fall, but I wasn’t sure about the summer. I dedicated this year to experimentation with them, and I’m happy to report that they appear to get enough sun to grow vegetables the entire season—I successfully grew spring radishes, bok choy, summer onions, zucchini, fall onions, and radicchio in them. I kept my experimentation cheap by using only seeds and/or seedlings I’d started myself. 

The coolest part about this new addition to my garden? I extended my growing season and was actively gardening from the end of March (!) to the end of November. That’s eight full months of gardening, nine or ten if you count starting my seeds indoors. It was awesome. And now I can confidently go forward counting on these two raised beds to really produce for me.

2. Seed starting rocks (for the most part)

I expanded my light setup and was able to start nearly every seedling I wanted this spring, including plenty to share with neighbors and friends. The seedlings I was especially happy to have on hand were ones that got planted at weird times when seedlings can be harder to find at garden stores, like onions. I planted tiny onion starts in early April, and again in early August. I would have been unlikely to find seedlings at a store at those times.

Seed starting is also really great when you simply want a lot of a single plant—I place chamomile and nasturtiums all over my yard so I like to have at least 15-20 of each. They’re both easy to start from seed and starting them saved me some money this year.

On the other hand, some of my seedlings didn’t do so well. Trickier herbs—rosemary, lavender, thyme, and oregano—stayed tiny for so long that they didn’t really produce for a very long time. I will buy those next year so I can get bigger plants to start with.

3. Creating community from shared produce

I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with my entire sour cherry harvest (it is immense) or my wine grapes this year. I reached out and found a local baker who was happy to come and harvest many buckets of cherries, and a local brewer/wine maker—Jeff of Urban Forage Winery—who forages yards like mine all over the Twin Cities. He gave me a bottle of wine in exchange for my wine grapes, and I felt like that was a good trade. He chuckled and said many people are in my boat—they plant all these fruit-producing perennials and then don’t have time to manage the harvest. I was just happy to see my fruit not get wasted, so the wine was a nice bonus.

4. Let go of what’s not working

We haven’t harvested our brewing hops in several years, and as part of the Great Garage Purge of 2021, we admitted defeat and sold all our brewing supplies. Next, I’m going to replace the hops plants that climb up our “booze bower” every summer. I love the fast-growing privacy that the hops provide, but I don’t love getting a rash every time I accidentally brush up against them—and they are constantly hanging over and invading areas I walk through every day.

The largest hops plant is on the south side of the arbor in full sun. I’m replacing it with a climbing rose in honor of my daughter, who loves red roses. I’m not sure what I’ll use to replace the hops on the north side of the arbor; they are not thriving due to a lack of sunlight. If you have recommendations for a fast-growing perennial or annual vine that does fine in shade, please let me know in the comments.

This spring, I also cut down a shrub I once adored: my Autumn Brilliance Serviceberry. It was growing so slowly that we were forced to admit after 8+ years that it was simply never going to achieve anywhere near the promised height of 15-20 feet. This spring, it looked sickly and possibly fire-blighted so I cut it down and replaced it with a witch hazel. I will be looking to add another Autumn Brilliance serviceberry somewhere else in the yard as soon the opportunity arises.

5. It’s OK to plant something just for me

I am a stickler about using native plants in my yard, as much as possible. I love how my yard full of pollinators and their insect and bird predators has created a nearly pest-free environment for my vegetables. If you know me at all you already know how enthusiastic I am about native plants.

BUT. I also have nostalgic affection for tulips and other spring flowering bulbs. I planted some tulip bulbs in 2020 and they were a very welcome site this spring. This fall I added daffodils—they should be easier to protect from squirrels and rabbits and should be a very nice complement to my bloodroot and other native spring bloomers.

I’m also contemplating a hedge. I would like to create a privacy screen in a narrow, shady area north of my house, and evergreen would be a nice bonus. I have not been able to find a native plant that fits the bill. I’ll be looking at area nurseries and plant sales in the spring to see what I can find—I’m thinking yew could be an option.

I’ve already got a long gardening to-do list for 2022, so I think I will once again stick to my yard and not take on a community garden plot. There were so many times this summer when I was grateful to not have to drive to a place to tend a whole extra garden. Having a little more time allowed me to enjoy what was happening right outside my door.

Since I’m not on this space very often anymore, consider following my gardening adventures on Instagram so you can see some of the following projects take shape this year:

• Tulips in pots! One of my experiments this winter.
• Privacy hedge in a shady spot
• New raised raspberry bed(s)
• New fences and gates (with arbors, whee!) on the east and west sides of the backyard
• A climbing rose
• Daffodils in the prairie boulevard
• Plenty of vegetables in my raised beds and main garden, as usual

I’ve got seed catalogs spread all over the coffee table and my garden journal open to a “2022 planning” page. What have you got going in your garden this year?

Gardening this year, like everything else, is imbued with a feeling that nothing is the same, and might not be for a very long time. And yet. As I watch my yard come to life this spring, there are certain plants for which I feel so much gratitude. Well, honestly, I feel gratitude for all green things in the spring.

Here are some plants I was especially excited to see–some are weeds, and some are perennials I planted, but ALL are edible.

In times of uncertainty, growing your own food is taking control of something that you can take at least a measure of control over. I’ve been seeing lots of news articles about people suddenly taking an interest in gardening, and there’s never been a better time. There’s also never been a better time to search out locally-produced dairy and meat.

I also buy nearly all my meat directly from a farm family–Chris and Tamara Johnson of Johnson Family Pastures–and this has also been a source of comfort during this uncertain time. Getting to know the people who raise my food has always been important to me, but now it feels vital. Pasture-based meat is more expensive (and more nutritious) than conventional, but I use it more thoughtfully as a result.

Anyway, back to gardening, since that’s what I am here to write about.

One of the main principles of permaculture is to emphasize perennial edibles over annuals. This can be somewhat challenging in the north. And yet. When I look out on my yard today I see several things to eat–even though the snow only just melted–and having just a few things feels like a bit of added security. That feeling will get stronger when I have cherries, raspberries, and currants to pick.

Here are six edible perennials I’ve got growing right now. Each of these multipurpose plants stacks up several functions in the garden–from feeding my family and me to feeding pollinators.

Garlic mustard
One of my big goals is to try and make garlic mustard more popular. I walked along Minnehaha Creek last week and was really sad to see the extent to which it is taking over the natural area along the shore. If more people knew how delicious it is, perhaps they could over-harvest it like they do with ramps. 

Garlic mustard was brought over from Europe by early white settlers, and spread throughout the United States rapidly. It’s a green; you eat it like spinach, raw or lightly steamed. Its name comes from a slightly garlicky taste and aroma. Every year, I carefully remove every bit of garlic mustard from my yard, and yet every year more comes back. Someone nearby must have quite a bit that they allow to go to seed.

Please note: do NOT let garlic mustard go to seed. If you see it, pull it, whether you plan to eat it or not. This stuff is seriously invasive. Now is the very easiest time to find it, as it’s one of the only green things in natural areas.

Stinging nettle
I’ve been allowing a little stinging nettle patch in my yard for several years now. I keep a very close eye on it to make sure it doesn’t expand too much, ruthlessly pulling any that appears beyond the bounds of where I’ve decided it can grow.

Why keep stinging nettle around? Two very important reasons. First, it’s a superfood. After a long winter of greens trucked in from California, in the early spring your body is practically begging for something local, fresh, and packed with anti-inflammatory goodness. My favorite two ways to use it are in an herbal tea, or lightly steamed and made into pesto–just use a standard pesto recipe and substitute steamed nettle leaves for the basil. Steaming it removes the sting.

The second reason I like to keep a little patch of nettles is that it’s the host plant for the Red Admiral butterfly–their caterpillars exclusively eat members of the nettle family. Red Admirals are not endangered like monarchs, but I can spare a few square feet of my yard to feed their babies.

French sorrel
Unlike my edible weeds, I’ve actually had to purchase and plant new French sorrels several times. Without a protective cage, rabbits will eat it to the ground over and over in the spring. I’ve also killed it by planting it in shade–it stays much bigger and healthier in a sunny spot. French sorrel can be used like spinach as well, and its flavor gets more pungent as the season goes. I think of it as a spring food; sorrel soup is a spring tradition around here but it’s also good in egg dishes.

Lovage
Here’s a new-to-me plant this year. I read about lovage in permaculture books several years ago, but then became inspired to plant it after reading several of Monty Don’s books last winter. It’s a perennial that gets quite large and must be planted in a sunny spot. Its early spring leaves have a celery-like flavor; the best use for it truly is in soups. The flavor is not as good later in the season, but Monty Don recommends cutting it down severely in the early fall to encourage new tasty, leafy growth.

Chives
I first planted a small pot of chives more than 10 years ago, and now have several little clumps of them around the yard. They come back faithfully every year, surviving in all kinds of light conditions. They can spread quickly in a sunny spot, so I purposely keep them in partly-shaded areas. Chives are always my very first harvest of the spring–this year I picked my first on March 28.

Rhubarb
Who doesn’t love rhubarb? Rhubarb can be a little tricky to grow for two important reasons. First, it MUST have full sun (8-12 hours of direct sunlight per day) or it will die out after a year or two. I nearly killed mine by initially planting it in a spot that kept getting shadier each year. When I realized it was dying, I moved it into a new sunny spot and now, two years later, it’s thriving again. Secondly, it’s hard to resist picking every last beautiful rib of your rhubarb plant, especially in the early years when you’re so excited to finally have rhubarb. If you pick too much, you will kill your plant. My rule of thumb is to never pick more than half the plant at a time.

Cold season veggies
Halfway through writing this post, I got word that Mother Earth Gardens and other local garden centers are reopening again, after doing a limited website ordering/curbside pickup system for several weeks. I’m sure it will not be the delightful shopping experience we once knew and loved, but it’s necessary.

Please consider buying your plants from a local nursery, rather than a big box store. There are several good reasons to do this. First, big box stores treat their plants with neonicotinoids, which will injure and potentially kill any bee that tries to pollinate your flower. Secondly, these stores are primarily concerned with making a sale, not helping you be a better gardener. Also, does it even need to be said that small businesses need extra help right now? Choose integrity, and choose people who truly care about plants and pollinators–vote with your dollars on this issue.

Garden season is really heating up along with the weather–as of right now in the Twin Cities it’s safe to plant out “cold season” vegetables. These are the ones that won’t be hurt by a light frost, like peas, lettuce, anything related to cabbage, greens, and many annual flowers. Perennial plants can also go in now. I sowed kale, collards, and poppy seeds yesterday, and I’ve got flats of herbs under grow lights in the basement. I’ve also got some pretty tiny lettuce seedlings under my mini-hoophouse.

Time to get growing. Questions about gardening? Ask in the comments below or follow me on Instagram for more frequent updates.

It’s January. It’s about zero degrees F. A snowstorm is due any minute. Time to get started on planning my garden for this year.

The main thing to note about this year’s plan: it does not include cucumbers or tomatoes. I’m giving my main home garden the year off from both; I’ll most likely try to grow them at Sabathani Community Garden. My home garden has built up various tomato and cucumber diseases over the past few years, and I need a year of starving both bacteria in hopes of getting rid of them for good.

Let’s take a look at the plan:

Starting on the far left, the little strip of land between my deck and chain link fence was a fine rhubarb area for several years, but unfortunately the grapevines that I am training on the arbor over the deck are now casting deep shade in that area for most of the summer—this is what I wanted! But it means the rhubarb had to go somewhere sunnier. I transplanted it last fall.

In its spot I will put a mix of early- and late-season pollinator support plants. My two favorites for a shady spot like this are bloodroot and zig zag goldenrod.

 

Bloodroot blooms in the very early spring—usually in April when I’m feeling the most desperate for some sign of spring. It’s an ephemeral so it only blooms for a very short time, then the leaves get quite large and look just like an umbrella for a fairy to sit under. I can’t get enough of these plants. They also spread gradually, so I’ve been dividing them every couple years and adding them all over the yard. Prairie Moon is a good source for Bloodroot, if you don’t know anyone with some to divide.

Then there’s zig zag goldenrod, the only goldenrod to thrive in shade. It blooms at the very opposite end of the season, August-October. I’m slowly adding this to all shady areas of my yard. I’ve always had plenty of blooms from June-August, but have been a little lacking in the very beginning and end of the season. Time to work on that.

Getting back to the garden plan, the first bed on the far left has greens in it, and I think this is about all I’ll be able to grow in this spot anymore. The arbor is shading this area of the garden for a significant portion of the day now, too. I had my tomatoes in that spot last year and they performed dismally—lots of green foliage but hardly any tomatoes, a classic sign of insufficient light.

Next we have some turnips, onions, and beets, in the spot where I grew leeks and onions last year. After this year I will have to let this spot rest from members of the allium family or I’m going to create a problem.

Next is the spot where I’ll put my tomato cage, except this year I’m growing heirloom dried beans in it. Legumes for the win! I plan to leave the cage in this spot permanently—we discovered this spring that moving it is a major pain. So I’ll rotate legumes and tomatoes in and out of it each year, relying on pots and/or my community garden plot in the years I don’t put tomatoes in this garden.

Finally we have the spot where I planted some garlic last fall. If it survives the insane sub-zero temperatures that are arriving shortly, it will be so fun to have garlic again. I haven’t grown it in a few years. I’m going to try following it up with some watermelon radishes; they are better when grown in the later season.

So that’s my plan, in a nutshell. I’ll also do various pots and edible landscaping tricks. I have a very large new sunny area in the backyard now that is raising all kinds of possibilities. Eventually it will be a mini tallgrass prairie, but for now… maybe we could grow some watermelons…

Taking a small break from the absolute dumpster fire that is America’s national politics (I feel so very fortunate to live in this city and state), I spent some time last week putting together a garden plan for 2017.

Planning a garden right now feels different than it ever has, I suppose because I feel different than I ever have. Of course, I’ve felt sad and anxious about American politics many times during my adult life, but (foolishly, perhaps?) I never felt raw fear. I realize this places me firmly in a position of privilege.

But at the end of the day, a garden is a garden, and even though I am changed, my garden is very similar to what I’ve grown in the past. Comfort in the familiar, perhaps? Without further ado:

Left to right, also west to east, in the main garden we’ve got:

Bed #1: collard greens, parsnips, and onions, with snap peas and cucumbers climbing up the trellis at the back. A single row of garlic is already in the ground on the right edge.

Bed #2: garlic, beets, and bush beans. Bed #2 is my widest garden bed; as usual I’m pushing it to the limit.

Bed #3: tomatoes. I’m giving up on interplanting tomatoes with anything this year. They just get so huge. Additionally, I may create a new squirrel-proof enclosure to grow them in, which will surely take up the whole area with no room for anything else.

Bed #4: something new! I’m going to try okra this year. I love eating okra, and it would be nice to be able to teach my Sabathani students how to grow it in our climate. Okra is a wonderful plant for mixing in your sunny flower beds—the flowers are large and tropical, similar to hibiscus in appearance. I’ll also put eggplant, runner beans, and shallots in bed #4.

At my Sabathani community garden plot, I’m going to be slightly more ambitious than in previous years. I want to grow quite a bit of lavender, so I’m planting a “hedge” of it all the way around the edge. I also hope this will help establish a neat border for my garden, resulting in fewer people walking through it.

I’ll still plant potatoes and squash there, but fewer, two hills each of summer squash—Pattison Panache, and winter squash—Turk’s Turban.

What’s new for 2017? I’m giving up on radishes after so many disappointing harvests. I’m also going to try carrots in a pot this year, having had less than stellar luck in the carrot division as well.

I’ve got several expanded flower beds at home to fill up with new plants this spring. I am going to try blueberries again, but this time in a half-barrel with acidified soil. I’ll also plant ground cherries. The rest of the open areas will be filled in with flowers, including these:

Blanket Flower — these are petite, make a great flower bed edge plant, and last year they bloomed from Late June-November. Seriously, November. I saw bees on them all the time, too.
Goldenrod — so important for late-season pollinators, gorgeous winter interest, and there are cultivars in various shapes and sizes.
Prairie Smoke — a tiny plant to put right along a path in a sunny spot. Beautiful, very early flowers followed by cool, smoky seedheads.
Little Bluestem — I first fell in love with Little Bluestem as a landscape plant for a very practical reason: it’s easy to identify because it looks so different from the various grassy weeds that plague my garden beds. But it’s also gorgeous in the winter, and provides food for skippers and birds. Here’s a great overview.
Solomon’s Seal — my favorite native shade plant. It’s gorgeous. It’s well-behaved. It’s easy to identify. It tolerates the dry shade under a very large maple tree. I’ve never tried making medicines with it, but the medicinal uses sound fascinating.

Why do I love these plants? They’re all natives, they all support pollinators, and they’re all gorgeous in the landscape, as well as relatively well-behaved. I’ve heard goldenrod can get weedy but I’ve not experienced that first-hand, perhaps because I have it planted in part-shade.

In making this list, I’ve just realized something. I was going to add Purple Pasque Flower to the list; I planted it in 2015 and its bloom in ’16 was gorgeous. I could have sworn I had found it in the native plants section, but I’ve just realized it is NOT native. There is a native purple pasque flower and a non-native purple pasque flower. You see, even master gardeners make mistakes all the time.

So, if I add more pasque flowers I’ll know which ones are correct, next time.

I also have BIG plans at Sabathani Community Garden this year—and I hope they translate into increased access to healthy, fresh food for the people who garden there. I will write a separate post about this after presenting the plan next week and hopefully getting the green light from garden leaders.

It’s time to translate my anxiety into action. Gardening is where I shine, so that’s where I need to put my energy.

Another upcoming post: I took a seed starting class recently where I learned some new things, enough that I’m going to give it a try again this year. In the next few weeks I’ll be sharing my new strategies as well as a schedule for getting everything in. Spring is truly right around the corner.

 

Wow, I haven’t posted since early November. Hello again, friends. Our holiday season was full of the usual ups and downs. Here is a brief overview:

We spent the better part of November evenings and weekends listening to Harry Potter on audio and knitting; here Anneke and I are finishing a wool scarf for her.

Here’s a goldenrod seed head catching the low winter sun. We have not gotten a very heavy snowfall yet this winter, so my front yard still looks either really messy or really beautiful, depending on your point of view. I don’t clean up any of my perennials in the fall; the seed heads feed the birds and the foliage provides shelter for various overwintering insects. Whatever’s left in the spring can go in the compost at that point.

We’ve eaten no small amount of pumpkin this fall. I’ve been using this method to bake my Long Island Cheese pumpkins: cut in half, turn upside down, brush the skin with olive oil, bake at 350 until done (usually at least an hour). These have so much moisture in them that I ended up having to skim liquid out of the cookie sheets lest they overflow. The end result is a nice concentrated pumpkin flavor; this was truly a delicious variety. We still have quite a bit of it left in the freezer, so the pumpkin breads/pies/muffins/everything can continue unabated for a while yet.

We had a fun Christmas, which included what might become a yearly bowling tradition. Mark it 8, Anneke.

We live in such a beautiful area. At the bottom of our favorite nearby sledding hill is beautiful Minnehaha Creek. When it freezes over the kids try to slide all the way to it and land on it. It’s neat that many of my fondest memories from my country childhood are possible for my kids to experience right here in the city. Love ya, Minneapolis!

I hope to be back with the start of some 2015 gardening plans in January, but in the meantime, snuggle up and stay warm. Happy New Year!

Left to right:

– my new cruiser… well, actually we’ve both been riding it

– peas ready to be planted

– sprouted tomatoes and banana peppers

– Rowan with a whole wheat caramel roll (they were a hit; recipe to come)

– an apple blossom

Happy Spring!