Produce and plants on my counter.

left to right: honeysuckle and ajuga from American Meadows, snap peas germinating, grass that Anders planted back at school, produce from Misfits Market, and the trusty compost colander

It appears as though that greenhouse I keep dreaming about should become a reality since a full half of my already small kitchen counter is currently taken up by plants. We’ve signed up for Misfits Market, like so many people outsourcing things like meat and vegetables, and this was our first box. Two big bunches of kale, potatoes–sweet and red, kiwis, green apples, celery, onions, green beans, romaine, pears, and more. If you’d like to try it, use COOKWME-MV5IPL to get 25% off your first box. We ate the kale last night, following my sister Kate’s lead, massaging it with a bunch of lemon juice, some salt, and then adding cubes of green apple and crumbled bacon. Parker and Anders both ate all of it which was a huge surprise. Something magical entirely happens when the kale is massaged. It becomes so much softer and more delicious to the palate of young ones (and old ones). If you take anything away from this post: massage your kale.

Typing out “that Anders planted back at school” made me a little sad (perhaps more than a little). Of the many things that are difficult about this strange time, one of them for me is that he won’t be returning to his sweet little preschool and right at the end of our time there. That place, those teachers have been the sweetest community. When Parker went through his little graduation ceremony there, it nearly broke me in two with the care that went into it and how precious these little kids were. I’ve told the teachers this before–if they ever decided to expand into more grades, I’d be there. Heck, I’d sign them up straight through college if I could. It’s already too short a time there and it’s been cut shorter. A (very) small thing, when you consider the state of the world and so many people’s lives, but one that makes me sad nevertheless.

Like you, I’m low in the creativity in the kitchen department, and I’m wondering when life will resemble normalcy again, even if that normal is a new one. I’m worried about kids stuck in their homes with people they shouldn’t be stuck in their homes with, I’m worried about those receiving no pay checks, I’m sad for women who were just at a pinnacle moment with their IVF journeys when things shut down, I’m sad for those by themselves staring down the grim face of loneliness every morning that they awake, I’m worried about mothers set to give birth in these shaky days, I’m sad for those who’ve been touched by this however directly or indirectly–so, I suppose, all of us. But, that the Himalayas are visible from places in India that haven’t seen them for 30 years, that’s pretty remarkable. When that pendulum inevitably swings back to “normal” life again, I do hope that it considers the earth a bit more than it has been. Isn’t that a win win? No matter where you are on the climate change scale?

I ordered these seeds and I’m crossing my fingers that they come soon and that I have butterflies flocking to my yard all summer long. I also ordered some trailing nasturtiums. In case the state of things is still odd this summer, I can at least have flowers blooming and invite the butterflies to my backyard. Maybe the hummingbirds too.