The Time Of Year When Winter And Spring Come Together In Lloyd

The Time Of Year When Winter And Spring Come Together In Lloyd

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The Pretender



When I go out in the garden in the evening when the setting sun is painting the sky with streaky gold and blue and pink and pick the mustards and bring them in and wash them two times (because mustards will grab the sand and black dirt of Lloyd- believe me) and set them to dry on a white cloth and prepare the skillet with bacon and onion, I feel a connection with women who have lived here for one hundred and fifty years.
I planted these greens with my own two hands, tiny baby seeds, round as Owen's head, and I think of the bible verse about if you have faith as big as a mustard seed...
I have faith that my seeds will sprout and so they do and they grow up through the black sandy dirt and I pick them, pinching the stems between thumb and forefinger and put them in a bag and bring them into the house where I wash them.


I get the same feeling when I gather the eggs and feed my hens. I am doing something which is real. I am going out into my own tiny world and bringing back protein and bringing in folic acid and bringing in vitamins and minerals sprung up right here where I live.
I read articles about people who have "vowed" to live on food gathered no more than 125 miles from their homes and what sacrifices they will make and what they will have to do to make this vow a reality and I think about how one-hundred and fifty years ago, the people had no choice in the matter. Grow it and raise it, tend it and feed it, gather it and butcher it or die.

And then I think I want bees for the sugar and I want goats for the chev and I want pigs for the smoke house and I think how grateful I am for the venison, the grouper, the snapper, the bream.

And then I think about the mustard greens and I am happy to start there and also with the two fried eggs that Billy cooked on my stove for his lunch.

I am doing the best I can with this dirt, this house, this home. I swear I am. Doing the best I can and I know I can do better. I am sure I can. And this is MY astonishment. This is my wonder and task.

18 comments:

michelle said...

Yes. We are definitely related.
Have you read The Earth Knows My Name by Patricia Klindienst? It's a beauty.

Mel said...

Wonderful Ms. Moon, an abundance of riches! I never feel as connected to everthing as when I do the most with the land, for myself, always aware how very lucky we are, and how much harder the grandmothers and fathers had to work to live. But doing the simple work, noticing the seasons and the world around you are the most amazing things, aren't they?
Every year I think I'll plant more in the garden, but there's only so much I can or will each do.

But a little patch of alfalfa, some bee hives, fresh honey, maybe goats to keep it trim - sounds lovely, doesn't it?

Another lovely post, thanks.

nola said...

Yes, yes, YES!

I let my holy basil flower and the bees are loving it and I am so happy - I hope they're making sweet sugar somewhere. We have a serious bee shortage here ...

Looks like a great book Michelle!

nola said...

Yes, yes, YES!

I let my holy basil flower and the bees are loving it and I am so happy - I hope they're making sweet sugar somewhere. We have a serious bee shortage here ...

Looks like a great book Michelle!

nola said...

Sorry - I guess I like your posts so much that it keeps duplicating my comments. Please feel free to delete me whenever you wish! :)

adrienne said...

i want to chew on that mustard, ms moon.

it is amazing how tiny those seeds are, isn't it? if that is truly all it takes, even on the toughest days we'll be just fine.

Lora said...

I have a daydream I often replay when I'm rocking my toddler to sleep. In it, I live on some land and grow all my own food. Milk my cow and drink it. Gather my eggs. Make yogurt and put honey on it from my hives. Even though I'm not a gardener or farmer, I think it's part of the human spirit. Something inside that is satisfied by the production of food. It's a wonderful pursuit.

Ms. Moon said...

Michelle- No, but I should. I will.
And of course we are related. I have no idea how- can't trace it from what you've given me, but somehow, some way, we are.

Mel- I only want what I deserve and what I deserve is what I can do with the bit of earth I have. Isn't that why all of this dirt stuff makes us happy? I think so.

Nola- Is it the regular basil or the African? Because my African basil is blooming and amazing. I want basil honey! I do!

Adrienne- Yes, they are tiny, but the spinach seeds are even tinier. And of course, the human seeds are tiniest of all. I take great comfort in all of this. And I wish you could chew on my mustard. It is like wasabi in its heat. Bite- fire- gone.

Lora- It's in our DNA. All of that is what our souls crave.

Elizabeth said...

Gosh. I so admire you for this reality. I think that I'd like to do it in theory, but reality is different. I'm such an urban girl, really, to be honest...

Human Wrecking Ball said...

Great post. All I am growing in the back yard is algae in my pool. It's sad. I will try it some day, it's on the list!

Mwa said...

I learned in my mindfulness class that I should feel the connection to previous generations and the land when I tend to my house and prepare food, but I still can't. I can't escape the feeling that there are more "interesting" things I could be doing. Bullshit of course. I want to feel this, but I think it's going to need some more work.

Mwa said...

I'd been brooding a while on a chores-post. Brought you into it and linked. Hope that's ok.

Xbox4NappyRash said...

I'm still waiting for the fried chicken post....

Ms. Moon said...

Elizabeth- I am not there yet, by any stretch of the imagination but maybe someday, or maybe it is not a matter of all or nothing, just some of this, some of that.

Brother Wrecking Ball- Start with a tomato in a pot this next spring. Begin slowly and small. See what happens.

Mwa- Not bullshit at all. There ARE more interesting things going on. And thank god some people go out and do them and report in.

Daddy X- I do not fry chicken. I can but I don't. Sometimes I fry okra, though.

Petit fleur said...

You are perfect just the way you are.
xo pf

Lois said...

Love that first picture! Wasn't that sunset last night simply gorgeous? I noticed the pink glow coming in my windows and when I looked outside the whole yard was bathed in it and the sky was just stunning!

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Your mustard greens are lovely, Ma'am. Just lovely.

I can't grow shit. I kill EVERYTHING.

Have a great weekend!

Love, SB.

Ms. Moon said...

Ms. Fleur- As are you, dear.

Lois- Yes! It was some sunset.

Ms. Bastard- You keep all of your animals alive. Animals are harder than plants. Just saying...