Sure enough...Murphy's Law

The day after I planted the peas...2 inches of snow, followed by more freezing rain. Should be all right...

I suppose gardening is the most optimistic activity, really, other than planting trees. I heard a woman on TV say that such-and-such an action had an effect for 100 years, and she wanted to continue it so it would go for another 100 years. And my only thought was, "The world won't be here in 100 years." I don't think we as a society have 20, much less 100. Even planting fruit trees is a stretch of the imagination that I can't quite pull off...but I can manage planting annual vegetables. That's about my speed right now. So I'll do that.

Freezing Rain and Tomato Seeds

Sure enough, the rain turned to freezing rain this week, transforming the trees into crystal windchimes. I suppose it's rough on the plants, but I find freezing rain so beautiful, and now that I'm off work, I don't have to commute in it, which makes it even more cozy. I love standing at the window watching the sunlight dance on the ice, a book and a hot cuppa being my only goals for the day. (Meanwhile my son's area has been without power and water for three days. We offered to let him stay at the church, but he's standing his ground. An opportunity to be creative and resourceful!)

While the weather outside is frightful, and today it sounds like the wind is trying to tear off the solar panels, indoors it's spring. I've started my tomato starts---optimistically---as well as a tray of marigolds. I tested some older seeds for germination and they all came up, 100%, which is stunning. And now I find I don't have the heart to kill them, but really, it's TOO early to be starting zucchini. But the plucky thing is three inches tall and scrambling toward the light, and I might have to let it just keep going. I could transplant it into bigger and bigger pots, I suppose...

Every year we grow a few things hydroponically indoors, trying various systems. Right now I have trays of spinach growing in the kitchen in net pots of clay pellets, just sitting in containers of nutrient solution. It works. But hubby wants to try buckets this year, with pumps and spray nozzles and aeroponics, so I've started the tomatoes and cucumbers to transfer into that. Maybe I could sneak the zucchini into that without him noticing...?

Finally, I tiptoed outside between downpours and moved some of the soil from a flowerbed we're removing (to improve drainage away from the house) to the garden. I let the squirrels play with the fresh earth for a few days to get it out of their systems and then planted sugar snap peas. I've sprinkled chili powder over the peas to keep the critters out, but the rain will soon wash that away. What I'd really like is a physical barrier, wire, to give the peas a fighting chance this year. Between the squirrels and the rabbits, I rarely get peas. But ultimately, the peas might play decoy to draw the animals away from the real prize, the green beans.

To Spring or Not to Spring

For a few days, it was t-shirt weather, the sun was bright, the sky was blue and cloudless. Then temperatures plunged again and it snowed. Yesterday was sunny but the wind was from the Arctic. Tiny snow pellets flicked my face as I walked the dog and eventually turned to rain. We will see what today brings.

I watch a lot of YouTube on gardening, and every spring there's a rush of videos telling me what to plant in March. I pull out my seed collection, sort and plot, ponder and plan, and go hopefully to my window. Still snow on the ground. Sigh. Put away the seeds for another few weeks. 

One year I did try the suggestions (for my hardiness zone) to plant peas and radishes, etc. in March. They didn't surface. I replanted in mid-May and then we were off to the races. One year my peas didn't surface until July.

This year I'm going to go back to my tried-and-true method of waiting to plant the cold-hardy crops until the maple trees blossom. The buds are swelling now, but we still have some time to wait. The warmth-loving plants go in when the peonies bloom. We may not be able to guess when the weather will warm, but the plants always know. I've learned to trust them.

Ping-Pong

First he says to beef up our borders,

then he says the border is arbitrary and should be ignored.

He says he wants our fresh water and rare earth minerals,

then he says we have nothing they want and they don't need us at all.

He says the tariffs are on

then on hold

then on

then on hold.

He says we're a nice country and would make a beautiful 51st state,

then he says we're nasty and terrible to deal with.

He boasts about the USMCA being the best agreement,

then breaks or ignores it and forgets he himself signed it.

He talked about relocating all the people in Gaza in order to build a resort,

then denied having ever said it.

He signs an Executive Order

then denies having done so, while looking right at his signature on it.

He backs PP,

then backpedals when PP plunges in the polls.

It's been a case of constant whiplash.

But I guess you can't expect anything else when you play with a yo-yo.

I don't even know what title to give this one

Strikes presumably against Houthi terrorists but directed at Yemen's capital city. Military action to keep an important waterway open and unrestricted. Today the Red Sea. Tomorrow...Panama? Essentially he's declaring war without Congress's say-so. Apparently that's okay if the target is deemed a terrorist...and it's hunky-dory to conduct military action in a foreign country without that country's knowledge, despite Mexico's President's objection...if we can trust headlines to be telling the truth, which is another issue. It's hard enough having such a mess going on in the world without knowing whether we have accurate facts or not. The most important resource we have right now is an independent and unbiased media that reports the unvarnished facts instead of opinion. Except I'm not convinced we have that right now. There's too much emotion and too much at stake.

Meanwhile, there's a map floating around showing my area of Canada being subsumed by the U.S. According to headlines (which I don't trust, see above note), there is a handful of Canadians who are in agreement with becoming the "51st" you-know-what. That sort of talk is seditious. Do they realize they're promoting overthrowing our government? Because that's what it comes down to. This isn't an opinion poll, a video game, a pick-your-own-ending book, or a reality show, folks, it's a real threat of war. If you like the U.S. that much and want to be American, then by all means immigrate down there, and I wish you well. But the rest of us don't want to go, and it's immoral to sell us out.

So, the dilemma: If southern Ontario is one of the targets, do I sell everything and flee northward to join the resistance fighters (and the mosquitoes)? Do I look into sending my children and grandchildren to New Zealand, which has the advantage of being Far Away? Do I stay put and stock up on weapons? I do know one thing, right down to my density-lost bones: rolling over and capitulating is not an option. I don't care how difficult it gets. If it's me and my pitchfork standing alone in the middle of the Bluewater Bridge, so be it. But I know I won't be alone, judging by the fury being expressed by my neighbours, conservatives and liberals alike.

True to Yourself

I have been gravitating lately to YouTube videos and books about finding your purpose in life, your "ikigai," and being true to your values. Partially this is because of my upcoming book, coming out in January 2026, on living simply by bringing your core values to the forefront and eliminating the things that don't correspond to those values. I think it's also partially due, though, to the times we live in. It's never been more important to understand what matters most and to stand up and speak up for those things. 

There are times I feel peaceful and contented with the path my life has taken. There are other times I feel like I've wandered away from who I truly am -- a child of the soil, the person who used to paddle in creeks and scramble through forested hillsides and ride horses bareback and laze in hammocks under the sky. The person who came home from a walk with a field mouse in a Dixie cup, the kid who begged off school to stay home and nurse an ailing rabbit. I look around at my suburban 3-bedroom home with my electric bread machine and my air fryer and wonder how I got here, when clearly I should have ended up in a cabin in the woods like Grizzly Adams. Why do I spend my days on a laptop when what I really want is to be elbows-deep in dirt, encouraging plants to grow? 

How do I seek out that more authentic life, though, when my suburban house is full of 5-7 other people at any given time? I have to find the balance between accommodating their needs and nourishing my own. I do the best I can on the scale I've been given, but there are days---usually after watching too much news---when I want to rethink every decision I've ever made and every path I've ever chosen. There's a sense of time running out, and that Mary Oliver poem keeps running through my head. This really is the one and only wild and precious life I've got, and here I am, mphymphy years old and wondering how much time I realistically have left to realize my purpose. Because I truly feel driven to make my life purpose all about food security and growing things. I picture myself in a small, simple, manageable house with room for my books and my handicrafts and my loom (a proper serviceable one again, not the dinky one I have now), with wood stove and garden and well and woodlot. What more do I need?

Well, the 5-7 other people in the house, for one thing. Hence the life choices. Hence the path I've taken. But there must be a way to meld the vision with the reality. The persistence of that vision tells me it's the right one for me.

Me, growing sorghum in the backyard (you do what you gotta do):

(and one mammoth Mongolian sunflower)

That about sums it up

My husband says if it's really going down and society is collapsing this fast, we are going off our diet.