Slowly closing up shop

My husband is on vacation today and tomorrow. Which means, he will probably be more tired come the week-end than he would have been if he would have gone to work. There is usually one thing that makes my husband take time off in fall, and that is closing down the house and yard for winter. The weather has been nice some days, but also brutal on other days here this fall, it already feels like late November out there. So the window coverings are going up, the pool has been tarped up, the flower beds have been given a good shave and new dirt, compost, newspaper and leaves are being spread lasagna style over our fall cover crops, filling our beds to start building our soil for next spring.

That being said, I’m inside. *grunts and growls* I usually love to get my hands dirty. I love working outdoors. But of course, this year, it is not possible with my arm still busted. So I’ve started the more delicate and meticulous job this season brings : Drying the last of our herbs and flowers and collecting seeds for next year’s bountiful harvest!

Taken last August

Agastache (also known as Anise Hyssop or Bee Balm) has to be one of my favorite herbs. Growing it attracts so many pollinators (hence the name) and to make tea with it is simply divine. As I type this, my fingers smell of anise and I’m already daydreaming of hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea as the snow falls outside.

I use to buy it, not realizing that it was not only perennial, but very happy in our cold climate. So I planted my first stand which gave me just enough to fill my 4 tray dehydrator and to collect enough seeds to quadruple my stands next year. Not to mention that the stands already in place will most likely double if not triple come spring.

 

It amazes me how this life we’ve chosen can be equally hard and simple all at once. Some of it truly his the hardest work we’ve ever done. Bodies sometimes aching, staying up late into the night or up before dawn, ensuring we seize every opportunity the earth gives us. But the processes themselves, the rhythm of the seasons, the cycle of life we are truly apart of makes it seem all okay somehow. Better than okay. It gives what we do and who we are meaning.

So as I sit at the table with tweezers, coaxing the seeds out of their delicate and fragile pods, I smile. Knowing I hold life in my hands. Not only the seed itself, but our very existence.

Have a wonderful day everyone and stay warm!