The Joys of Dirt

Since having a child, I have noted a sad lack of parks in the area we live. And the ones that are nearby (closest is a 1/2 mile walk across two busy streets) are, quite frankly, pathetic. Over the past two months I have also noticed that not one park in a 15 mile radius have a sandbox. What is a childhood without sandboxes? And what is a mother with a son devoted to sand and dirt to do? Answer: improvise. In our backyard there are three garden boxes. We have planted in two of them and left the third empty due to the poor yield of that box last year. Today I cleaned up that bed, turned over the dirt, sprinkled so water on it and placed my son inside. He was overjoyed to have his very own dirt/mud box and he had so much fun (and did not try to pull up my cabbages) that I did not mind the mud cover toddler that resulted.

Domestication

In the two years that I have been married, I have found myself becoming more and more domestic (having children increases it more). During my single years I was perfectly content to eat a quick meal, sometimes just toast and a can of green beans and pick up whatever looked good at the grocery store or just grab something to go. But that would not satisfy my husband. So now I plan weekly menus, make shopping lists, cook full dinners, clean the house almost every day, and make jam. Yes, I make my own jam. It started about a year ago when the apricot tree in our backyard exploded with fruit. My husband picked them and taught me how to make jam (he comes from a large family where making jam and canning food from the garden was an annual event). A few months later the plum tree came into production and my husband's aunt gave us three bushels of apples from her tree. With his help, we make plum jam, apple sauce, apple butter, and plum apple butter. Then yesterday I, on my own, made strawberry jam and I am contemplating make raspberry as well. I really don't like jam all that much. I rarely put it on toast or make PBJ sandwiches. But my husband can go through a jar of jam a week. It make economic sense to make my own. I just never thought that I would. But I have to admit that homemade jam tastes a whole lot better than store bought.