Gardening With Grandma

Ever since I was a little girl, gardens have been a constant in my life. I remember my mom's giant raised beds from the perspective of a little girl up in Grass Valley. In my memory her garden stretched on forever and the green of the plants towered over me. In Indiana she had rows of corn growing in the ground, and we lived in hate of the beetles that liked to devour those delicious kernels as much as we did. She had raised beds filled with potatoes that were like little hidden treasures. When it was time to harvest them we'd pull buckets of spuds out of the ground and spread them out on the back porch. Also in her raised beds were wax beans, but well, lets just say I had one enemy in her garden. When we moved to Sacramento half the back yard was set up with raised beds, and in that space my mother grew the biggest tomato plants I have ever seen. We stuffed ourselves with BLT's all summer and enjoyed chili with canned tomatoes in the winter.

Now we have a new generation to pass the gardening bug onto, and this last week my mom did her best to do just that. While I was working on a new flower bed my mom and Claire planted potatoes together. I kept getting distracted from my project by the cuteness of the two of them playing in the dirt. It seemed only right that Claire got her first gardening lesson from the same person who gave me mine. 

 You will note the amount of mud around Claire's pacifier in the video. That happened in the picture right above it. I was going to take a photo of Claire inspecting a handful of dirt and just as I was snapping the photo she shoved the handful of dirt into her mouth. I just tell myself that she is learning how to test soil quality. Also note her pants from the knees down. That's not a shadow, that's mud. Le sigh. 

Blessed With Grandparents

Hopefully my MIL forgives me for posting a picture of her!

I consider myself to be a pretty lucky woman, and in most parts of my life I know I have been quite blessed, something I never had however, was the grandma who lived down the street, or even in the same state. My maternal grandmother died before I was old enough to form memories of her, and my paternal grandmother died when I was 19. My memories of her are few because we spent a decent chunk of my life living on opposite ends of the country, but perhaps it is the fact that they are so few that makes them so precious. I remember her washing my hair when I was little (I had a wild head of snarled blond locks that I refused to brush), snuggling in to sleep together when she came to visit and even her teaching me the Lord's Prayer. Something I am looking forward to with Claire, is that she won't have little snippets of her grandparents, but a full life of memories filled with their love.

This weekend my in-laws came down to watch Claire for the day while Jeff, Helen and I attacked our poorly neglected garden and yard. While I loved getting out in the fresh air and dirt again (more to come on that in my next post), the most wonderful parts of my day were when I would come inside and find the three of them snuggled in on the couch hanging out. I could just see Claire getting to soak up so much love from them, and while she won't remember these moments, they are merely a taste of the love she will continue to receive from them for many  years to come. My heart swelled while I was making dinner for us, and I could hear Sherri singing Claire little songs out on the couch while she rocked her in her arms.

So thank you to Grammpa Brian, Gramma Sherri and Grandma Kay for all the love this little girl is receiving from you. I have no doubt that when she looks back on her life, she will count memories with all of you as some of her most precious.