Grandma knows best
Most of my childhood was spend with my nose in the “ Little House on the Prairie ” books , daydream of how big life would be if I could be a groundbreaker . There ’s seldom a clip I step out to pluck beans for dinner party that I do n’t imagine that I ’m Laura and that Ma has just sent me out to our big garden on the prairie . Do n’t get me unseasonable , I love electrical energy and pick out showers and actual mattresses on beds , so I probably would have made a terrible innovator . But was there anything more grand than when Ma turn green pumpkins into an apple pie so they would n’t go to waste when the icing come ahead of time or when the family come together for the maple saccharify party ? Not to me , protagonist . Not to me.(And you should absolutely Google “ gullible pumpkin pie recipes . ” )
For a young lady who romanticized trailblazer endure as much as I did , I was lucky to have my Grandma Jo . She was 5 foot tall , 100 pounds , and had a laugh you could get word across the K . She sewed , spent hours cooking enormous meal for her tremendous home , and had a garden half the size of it of a football champaign . To me , she was basically a pioneer woman .
Every year , Grandma Jo mitt - tilled , hand - establish and hand - weed that garden , expend hours each week covered in stain and dust , lug in handbasket of garden truck to cook and can and store for later . Now that I ’m 40 - something and have four stripling and a married man , I ’m positive the garden was Grandma Jo ’s still piazza where she knew her four sons and husband would n’t willingly amount to inconvenience her . ( Do n’t worry about how I know this so deeply in my soul . )
But while I dreamed of garden in bonnets and long , swishy skirts like Ma Ingalls did ( which , by the way , sounds horrible now that I ’m not 10 ) , my nan gardened in her bathing suit . A red bikini . Now , I have no specific statistic about what nan generally wear down to garden , but I ’m imagine most do n’t do it in a two - piece .
I ’ll be honorable , bikini gardening is not a custom I ’ve chosen to bear on in my own urban backyard garden , mostly because my tyke would be horrified . alternatively , my version of horticulture is puttering around barefoot on the stone paths between my raised beds in an old tank top and short , my big down gardening bowl on my hip and a cocktail in my manus . Sometimes my minor join me to swipe a few cherry Lycopersicon esculentum or wampum snap pea plant if they ’re ripe , and sometimes it ’s just me and the bounder .
Grandma Jo walk me through how to plant my very first garden , and from her I learned that the beauty of horticulture is that you’re able to do it any old fashion you desire , because it ’s really just about you getting your hands and foot dirty , being outside and marveling that you grew something delicious or beautiful from a teeny tiny cum .
When Jamie ’s not puttering in her backyard garden , you may usually chance her reading , compose books for kids or perfecting the artistic production of snacky charcuterie dinner for her hubby , four teens , two hotdog , two cats and a ruffed grouse in a pear tree .
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