Ventured Out…

So today I ventured out to gather groceries for my 94-yr. old mother, who still lives alone on the farm where I grew up. She no longer drives due to macular degeneration, but she reads as much as her eyes allow, keeps an absolutely weedless garden, grows nearly all her own food and preserves it all. She loves sports, so is finding the lack of basketball, baseball and other sports very sad. She has a lengthy prayer list and is known far and wide as a “prayer warrior.” She still hand writes a letter to me and mails it every Monday, a tradition begun when I left for college. She writes regularly to her three remaining high school classmates, all her grandchildren, and sends birthday, anniversary, sympathy, and get well cards without fail. She keeps up on the local and national news much better than I. Her memory is terrific; she keeps all her books without a calculator.

It took stops at three groceries to get the supplies on her list. There was nothing exotic, just the basics. I really lucked out at one store, as a worker was just unwrapping a pallet of toilet paper, and that was on Mom’s list. She was careful to instruct me to just get what she needs of any item. She is not a hoarder. Having lived through the scarcities of WWII, she has a good idea of what she will need to get by. She’s always been frugal, and now she’s making cut-backs, so that “families with less will find what they need.” I couldn’t find the brand of toothpaste she uses, but she was perfectly satisfied with a substitute, and the same for margarine, bread, and fish oil capsules. “In times like these, we can’t be particular,” she says.

I was surprised at how well the stores were stocked and the variety they offered. The entire deli counters were sold out at one, no flour, toilet paper, wipes, or paper towels at two, no stick margarine at any, no potatoes at one, and lots of frozen and canned goods were missing at all three, but there was a little chicken, ground beef and plenty of pork. Indiana is big pork raising country, so that was no surprise. I also found tissues, which I hadn’t found at the first 2 stores, bacon, and eggs.

I took 10 bags of composted manure and put them on her raised beds. Her eyes lit up when I pulled out onion sets (that took two additional stops to find), pea seeds, lima bean seeds, and carrot seeds. She has everything else she’ll need to grow a bountiful vegetable garden. All of her flower gardens around the house are perennials, but she does grow a long row of zinnias along the vegetable garden to attract butterflies and other pollinators. She had spent yesterday picking up sticks in her lawn, and as soon as I left, she was going to remove the few weeds that have sprouted in her raised beds before the rain comes.

We spent a lot of time over lunch talking about the differences between times in WWII and now. Having lived all her life in rural locations, and being somewhat of a tom-boy who loved the outdoors much more than the indoors, her view is that this confinement must be harder for most Americans than life was back then. “Of course, we were SO worried about our boys in the war, but our life at home wasn’t that different. We worked hard, had our families to support us emotionally, and all our community worked together for the war effort. So we didn’t have leather, butter, sugar and a few other things that were rationed, we had enough. We still went to church, the children went to school, the farmers planted their crops and harvested, with everyone helping where needed. Cities weren’t so big, families weren’t so far apart.”

She spent the next half hour ensuring that I understood what she wants for her funeral (a small, family only service in the mausoleum, a dark gray metal casket and dressed in her gray suit with the butterfly pin) and as I left remarked, “You know, I probably won’t use all those pea seeds this year, so there should be enough for me to plant next year!”

And that, my gentle readers, is the positive attitude of a true gardener.

About carolee

A former professional herb and lavender grower, now just growing for joy in my new potager. When I'm not in the garden, I'm in the kitchen, writing, or traveling to great gardens.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Ventured Out…

  1. March Picker says:

    I’m afraid you’ve made my eyes leak, Carolee. Your mother is a delight.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Jo Shafer says:

    Your dear mother sounds so much like my maternal grandmother, Mama Nedley! That is, their attitudes. Except Mama doted on her geraniums and sweet peas, ferns and ginger lilies that her grandmother brought over from England. She, too, exchanged weekly letters with Sadie, her older daughter (my mother was the younger, with whom Mama lived, on the same country estate). Mama did get about quite well by going downtown on the city bus to church on Sundays and shopping on Thursdays. I could go on and on, but I’m sure I’ve written about her before on various of these WordPress blogs and posts. I miss her terribly. She died just before I graduated from high school. Now, I’m the Grammy.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Jo Shafer says:

    I meant to add that I rarely write long-hand to my own daughter. She and I message nearly constantly on Facebook, as well as my sister and I.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. What a lovely post!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Rita says:

    Carolee,
    I truly enjoy your interesting, encouraging and enlightening words. I enjoy your beautiful pics as well! I love the story of your mom. It brings back memories of my mom and grandma.

    Like

  6. I love to get snail mail, in these days of immediate gratification it is nice to read a letter with thoughts and doing from those who live far away. My mother could never stand when one of us would say that we were bored”I’ll find you something to do!” was her retort. I plan on going out today and cleaning up my perennial beds today because it is actually warm enough. Glad to know your mom is out there enjoying her life on her terms.

    Like

  7. What a dear, dear post…I almost feel as if I know your mother!

    Like

  8. Thank you for this beautiful story about your mother. She’s an inspiration.

    Like

  9. Artisan says:

    Glad you and your mother are both doing well in these difficult times. I suspect many of us could learn a lot from her. At least one positive outcome may come from our present troubles – I’m encouraged that so many people are trying to grow their own fruit and veg, even if it does create temporary shortages of seeds.

    John

    Like

  10. Mrs. Peasant says:

    You have described your mother so sweetly, that it has filled my heart. She sounds like an amazing woman and the afternoon was one you’ll always cherish. Thank you for sharing a little of her with us.

    Like

  11. msw blog says:

    What a blessing to still have your mother, and I can only imagine how intriguing the conversation wast alking about the differences between times in WWII and now.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s