Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Rhubarb! Rhubarb! Rhubarb!

My one regret related to my move to rural Nova Scotia ten years ago is that I didn't plant rhubarb immediately. I don't know why I didn't but it seems I was caught up in turning sod on flower gardens around the house. A decade later, I'm still kicking myself that we didn't plant rhubarb, sour cherry trees (because we had one on Pugwash Point and they are soooo hard to find) and highbush blueberry bushes.
Oh, and strawberries. A manageable patch for my breakfast, not the seemed-like-a-good-idea huge patch my husband planted several years ago and then stopped weeding and ploughed under. What happened? I have no idea but it was too big a patch for two of us to keep ahead of the weeds. It broke my heart when the plants disappeared.

So these rhubarb plants, stuck away in a corner last year, are ripe and ready for harvest. The plot of ground around was tilled up then left alone (what is the matter with us?!?) so I'm determined to take charge of this plot and make it fruitful. Two more rhubarb plants and -- ta! da! -- strawberries. Just enough for my breakfast. The local farmers can provide my jamming berries.
I know it's another garden and my right wrist and lower back are protesting already but darn it, the flower gardens are fine and I put two bags of chopped rhubarb in the freezer today for Glorious Winter Crisp right when we need to be reminded that winter doesn't last forever. It's definitely time for my other country garden dreams to come to fruition.

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