The first seed catalogue arrived in the mail the other day. My four year old granddaughter, Maryjane, took a sharpie and circled everything we need to order. Instead of toys, she circles plants in seed catalogues. She is one of us.
It is impossible, I believe, for a homesteader to not think of the garden at all times of the year. I am creating a new space, roughly 500 square feet of ground. A square, fenced in, next to the chicken coop, three feet from the porch turned greenhouse we are planning, and ten feet from the compost. I dream of the colorful rows of fresh produce, the front yard of fruit trees and medicinal herbs, the patches of volunteer vegetables and wild foods. But, these gardens, of course, cost money. Fencing, glass, extra compost, and seeds do not come cheap. I know it will all come together wonderfully and before I know it, I will be sitting here next year pondering the next season’s garden!
I do love January, even if it is not my favorite month in the least. It makes me rest. We homesteaders aren’t much for rest. We are a lot less anxious with our hands dirty, faces in the sun, planning, harvesting, moving. The ground is asleep. My fingernails are clean. And I can dream, and January brings that lovely reflective sense of peace and accomplishment. We dine like kings on everything we stored in the root cellar, freezers, and pantry from this last season. We remark how beautiful our house is and our yard is coming together and in just short of one year’s time, we have transformed it into a working homestead. Our hearts are overwhelmed with gratitude.
Hawks swirl and the large lake is out our south windows and the city bus rumbles by out the north panes proving you can homestead anywhere. I write on my list that I need lamp fluid for the oil lamps and more tea candles. Wood is chopped and piled by the stove. The chickens are waiting to be let out. The farm dog sleeps and I need another cup of coffee and a sharpie so I can start circling items in the seed catalogue and create dreams for spring.