With the big snow event behind and springtime in the not so distant future I begin to dream of a lush garden. As a mother forgets the pain of childbirth true garden lovers don’t give much thought to the negatives. August heat is only a dim memory, and the future is bright. I feel the earth between my fingers and my mind’s eye is filled with a kaleidoscope of color.

My friend, Debbie, loves her flowers, but vegetable gardening truly gets her creative juices flowing. I have dabbled in edible gardening, but maybe this is the year that my familial roots will nudge me in that direction. When I smell the soil and think about what I want to accomplish this year in the garden my mind invariably goes to that old green farmhouse of my childhood.

The floors creaked under my bare feet, and my slender body huddled by the roaring fire that Papaw had carefully banked the night before. He knew just how to keep the coals glowing and ready to add warmth to the chilly house. Papaw was as constant and dependable as the dawning of a new day.

Mamaw stood in the kitchen whistling as she worked. Her hands fairly flew as she adding a little pinch of this and a bit of that to her biscuit dough. Those golden orbs piping hot from the oven were pure perfection, light and fluffy every time.

Soon the noise level increased dramatically with children of all shapes and sizes awake and ready to break their nighttime fast. Our menu was large and predictable with almost all the ingredients farm to table. The eggs had only a short while ago been in the hen’s nests, the bacon on the haunches of a pig, and the apples in the little hand pies from one of the trees in the small orchard.

Our day went as most days did filled with fun and laughter. Occasionally, there was a little squabble between the cousins, but nothing that wasn’t ironed out in a few moments. We ran and played to our hearts content, and finally came in for a few minutes for lunch and a brief rest. This was usually when I would sit by Mamaw as she poured over her seed catalogs. Her eyes lit up with joy as she showed me the bulbs she wanted to add to her extensive collection of narcissus.

These simple moments helped to shape me into someone who adores gardening. My friend, Adam, is out working getting the yard in shape while Winnie barks at the weedeater from time to time. I’m off to the garden center in a bit to see what beautiful shrub I can add to my landscape. According to the experts this is the optimal time to plant several beauties in our area.

My heart is filled with joy when I see my children excited about their own gardening endeavors. It’s often the little things that bring me the most joy.