The rhubarb that is coming up in our yard brings joy for several reasons. I’m thankful to see it poking through the earth, one more sign that spring is really here. I’m thankful for the memories this plant evokes. These very roots were once tended by my grandmother – they were a gift she shared with us shortly after we purchased our house. I’m also thankful for the promise of our first home-grown vegetable of the season. I can almost taste the rhubarb crisp, jam, and compote already. I’ll sneak some into soups and sweet and sour dishes as well. (contributed by Anita Dualeh)
We live in the middle of Timber Crest Forest. Trees are plentiful. After months of knowing the trees by their trunks, boughs, and branches, the leaves are budding out. There’s a haze of color from rusty red to soft green to lime green to brown. I am grateful for the change of seasons … and for the beauty of trees. Let’s plant some more.
Yesterday, my cherished husband packed up a picnic lunch, invited me to sit lakeside to watch the spring waters, and converse. It was a much-needed break after several months of deadlines for us both. I am grateful for pleasant surprises.
I am grateful for the unexpected. Dear friends brought this Christmas cactus to our house two winters ago. It bloomed last Thanksgiving, surprising us (because it’s called a Christmas cactus). And then, much to our delight, we noticed the buds turning hot pink the first week of April. Now it is a Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Thank-You-for-Spring Cactus.
This is the point when cabin fever sets in. I recognize the signs. Leaving the house is unreliable. You’d rather have the TV off than on. Your 23 bookcases full of books aren’t tempting you. Cooking adventures are uninspiring. Friends feel far, far away. And then … two of those dear friends stop by with a spring garden in their hands. You are watching it grow every day. Aaaahhhh!