Buckets of rain this weekend provided the weeds with an amazingly hospitable home in my garden. We spent the morning pulling them, in quiet reverie, punctuated by questions from the wee ones about our plants, why weeds grow, where we'll put the chickens and such. It was a wonderful morning despite the gray clouds.
Leaving space for the garden's intended plants to grow, I'm reminded of what my dad always told me when I quizzed him about the flowers in his gardens. "A weed is anything that grows where you don't want it to," he would say.
Yup. Like the mint that had taken over the garden. I think it's a weed, but my husband felt otherwise having moved it to another location without plantings. It's taking over there and he's happy it's doing so. So it seems there is a place and space for everything. It's nice to be reminded of that.
Looking forward to picking raspberries and putting up some preserves. The nearly over-the-hill batch of strawberries in the fridge are calling to me. I'm thinking fresh strawberry preserves and toast for breakfast...