The only way to try to come back, is to just come back.
I've got to pump oil in the joints like a group of travelers did with the Tin Man once upon a time. But I'm going to do it. Today. Now.
So many things have gotten in the way. My computer got busted - the LCD panel cracked making only 40 percent of the monitor viewable. Then I took on a new role at my current job that meant the time I used to spend jotting down clever turns of phrase to dazzle you my blog readers with had to be spent on memorizing information about the natural world to dazzle my supervisor with. Maybe I could finally afford to replace my busted computer.
But then my heart got busted. And I wasn't good for much after that.
Through the winter, my porch still saw bi-monthly deliveries of local produce with some occaisional brocoli or an artichoke from California thrown in. Potatoes, onions, turnips, beets, kale and chard have been the norm. Last winter I found celeraic, sunchokes and radishes (of all varieties).
Nevertheless I have been cooking. I started a lasagna filled with ground turkey, cremini mushrooms, beet greens, carrots and red pepper. But I pilfered it into my stomach before I could make the requisite noodle layers.
After the big blizzard, I battled cabin fever by venturing to the grocery store for baking supplies - baking powder, flour - to make a sweetened parsnip and walnut bread that I had always been curious about.
And of course I ate my staple dishes: variations on spaghetti, dirty rice and chick peas and couscous sauteed with whatever greens I had on hand.
It feels a little like cheating to start blogging again after the most challenging season for fresh, local produce is ending. But it is what it is. I can only go forward. And that means moving into spring.
