Evening Rhubarb

Going out to the garden after the kids are in bed feels like a little get-a-way. I only popped out the other night to pick some rhubarb but it felt like a revelation that, not only was it not dark, but it was lovely outside. Everything is so lush right now, growing and leafing out with incredible haste. In a little more than a few short weeks I'll be able to go out barefoot to pick raspberries after bedtime!

Rhubarb, lovely rhubarb.

I often feel regretful about raising my kids in a confined urban setting. We have a front and back yard and a nearby park and we get out often enough, but it's not how I always imagined I'd raise a family. I thought I'd live a little closer to the edge of the grid if not off it entirely. (Have you read Wilderness Mother?) Other days I feel that we can give our kids the perfect balance or urban and rural by getting out of the city often. I'm always looking for ways to make this possible. 

The Clark family took their kids canoeing for 95 days.
Watch their video here and see why I find it inspiring.

I suppose my little green postage stamp urban acreage feels expansive enough in the peaceful after dinner stillness. I froze some of the rhubarb I picked and I made this rhubarb cheesecake with the rest. This recipe is so easy as there's no pre-cooking the rhubarb. I made mine with a graham cracker crust and my kids liked it even though it was made with our city rhubarb.

It's Coming

At least over here on the central western edge of the continent Spring is beginning to be tangible! Guess what I spotted in our alley?

Snowdrops.

This Week's Book

That's Not a Daffodil by Elizabeth Honey

We have read dozens and dozens of books in the past few months but truly, none have made me smile the way this book does. And so it deserves recommendation, a mighty acorn of approval, if you will.

This sweet book is about a preschool aged boy and his neighbour, a grown-up gardener.

The weeks, months, and seasons are marked by visits from neighbourly Mr. Yilmaz, who brings homegrown produce to Tom's family with each visit. First apples and an unlikely looking daffodil bulb, and at other times carrots, a pumpkin, and lemons. The passing of time is also marked by visiting grandchildren, a weekend at Grandma's and Mr. Yilmaz's absence when he's away in Turkey.

There is a peacefulness about this book. It contains just the right details; the reader is left needing no more than we are given but savouring every encounter.

With the daffodil's growth a trust and friendship also grow between Tom and his neighbour. Mr. Yilmaz's gift turns a skeptical, expectant boy into a clever-metaphor weaving believer. Mr. Yilmaz sits back and lets the magic unfold for Tom, giving the boy an even better gift than a flower: the experience of  discovering something first-hand.

I hope Mr. Yilmaz moves to my block soon!