Though I tried so hard to schedule the amaryllis to bloom during Christmas it has an agenda all its own. It’s finally about to burst and each morning as I make my way to the kitchen I get a little excited to see if it will be the magical morning.
Growing things has always been miraculous to me, especially during the cold gray days of January. My plants sit in the glass window box tricked by the brightness of the day, I will never tell them how cold it is out as surely they would shiver themselves into hibernation. Fresh herbs make cooking more fun, I love fresh basil, tomatoes and garlic over oily spaghetti noodles.
This morning was a raisin bread morning. It was one of those mismatch kind of mornings when everyone's routines bumped into one another and the stress of it was almost too much. But raisin bread fixes all that.
But more than plants in the window box, the splendor of bread rising, or the growing of an amaryllis…I love the miracle that’s growing in my belly.
A baby…soft and sweet. Growing each cold winter day until the green returns to the grass and the sun shines a little longer in the sky. It will be here in time to sit snuggled in a sling against me as we turn the earth for our family garden. It’s hard not to count the days!