Winter is Coming

Putting plants in the garden in September for winter harvest seems crazy. What seems natural and right is to put down mulch and put the garden tools away, then sit in the warm house, read or sew or knit or play music or otherwise party until spring. Fortunately, there is a string of celebrations that last all winter

I suppose my European roots are showing. My Texas grandmother only put in one garden a year. Her summer vegetables wound up in canning jars on the shelves of her pantry: corn, black-eyed peas, tomatoes, green beans, tiny little potatoes and more. Only she would have had the patience to scrape all those new potatoes; we put them in what I know now is called bechamel sauce–we called it white gravy of course. Her maiden name, Henderson, is Scottish and my grandfather’s name, Miller, English/Welsh. He used the pronoun “he” for his grandaughters, a subject of some disapproval by city folk; but it turns out that “she” in Welsh is spelled “hi” and pronounced “he”. Old language and traditions stick, including the idea that planting one garden a year is quite enough.

I have grown three winter gardens since I came back home to Texas from the North, and if I had to choose, I might give up summer gardening in favor of winter. My Brassicas: cabbages, cauliflower,broccoli and brussel sprouts survived a hard freeze of 27 degrees last week.

Why go to the trouble? Why is right. 

Characters in need of food pull them from their gardens in movies like Dr. Zhivago and Little Women and the Cranford series on BBC. But all the Brassicas are available, even organic ones, for only a few dollars at the grocery store. So there is no need. Most children are indifferent at best to these vegetables and it’s hard to convert adults to the taste, if they are not already a fan. No amount of bacon or cheese will help either. But I like seeing the cabbage get round and heavy, watch the cauliflower turn into a beautiful white lumpy thing—not a flower at all; it’s broccoli that will flower fast if you don’t keep an eye on it.

It’s fun. Not party fun; but it’s like looking into a fire for hours or looking at the moon rise. Deep in our hard wiring, or at least mine, is great gratification at watching a tiny seed produce these beautiful plants.

My beekeeper is here in a couple of days and I’ll try to make a movie for my post next week. I am hoping she will let me harvest some honey, but I know her priority is the bees and whether or not they have enough honey to last them over the cold months ahead.

Winter is Coming.