Loosened from the mud, I find myself floating in a world of possibility.

So can you.



The remaining squash

These squash got away from me this past winter. I wasn't able to cook them when they were at their peak, and now that it's March, they have lightened up quite a bit, so to me, they are now inedible. I put them out for the squirrels on Saturday morning. The ones in the backyard (yes, there's more that were not eaten) were devoured by the squirrels by that afternoon. They haven't found the ones that are in the front yard. Yet.





I placed these three in my front garden with the hopes that the remaining seeds will somehow take root. Perhaps I'll get a chance to grow my own this year. I've seen squash and zucchini growing out of the lush nutrients of a compost pile - a big surprise to the owner of that compost pile. I'm sort of applying the same theory here.

But, beyond that, I think they add a bright splash of color in the dirtying whiteness of the snow that blankets the city. Perhaps something a little quirky and interesting to look at for all those neighbors walking by.

I admit that I had gotten a lot of strange looks when I moved my vegetable garden to the front of the house in a neighborhood full of immaculate front lawns. But over the years, I've worked in perennials around the spots designated for vegetables and herbs. And since I'm spending more time hanging in the front yard, there has been more opportunity to get to know my neighbors, and many of the new ones in the area have voiced support for de-lawning my yard.





I like to bake the squash in the oven and serve them as soup bowls. This soup is wild rice with potatoes and carrots.

The first year that I discovered how yummy squash was the year I was still visiting the local farmer's market. I got a whole grocery bag full of smaller sized squash for $5! They lasted all winter and were the perfect size for a two-person household. Since then, I've been getting a variety of different squash from my CSA. I don't have a need to go to the farmers market any more as my veggies are being delivered to my neighborhood by a local farmer.

Maybe this year, I'll get the chance to grow my own. The time to start seeds for the garden is swiftly approaching. While starting seeds can be a refreshing experience, it is also a time of nervousness. Will the weather cooperate? Have I started my seeds too soon, or too late? Do I have enough space on the inside for all the seeds I want to start?

The uncertainties and possibilities are endless.

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