I too am guilty of negligence. There are so many excuses I could fill a volume with them, but instead I'll cram them all together and call it procrastination.
The spring garden is coming along. So far we've planted (almost exclusively) vegetables that Frances grew and cultivated from seed. The tomatoes were a little late in getting into the ground, but it didn't take them long to toughen up and bloom. There's hope for a bountiful crop a few months down the road.
But there is still work ahead: ant hills to annihilate, weeds to extract, dirt to be turned and fed and made ready for planting, beds to raise and frames to build to contain them, seedlings to plant, mulch, and water. So much work, so little time.
I'm still pulling last fall's beets out of the ground. I've given a few of them away, and in this spirit of generosity have found that most people will have nothing to do with them. They're not my favorites, but I'll eat them occasionally. I sure would like to find a good recipe or two, because I have so many, in the fridge and in the ground.
