Unless you count my other favorites...the rest of the year.
For most of my adult life, winter was absolutely NOT a favorite time of year because, c'mon: cold. With maturity comes the wisdom that every season is important. Winter brings with it the quiet stillness of sleep and basically a resetting of your soul. Spring cannot be beat with temperate weather, new growth and a world bursting with new life. Fall allows one to bask in the glow of the burnt oranges and golds as the fury that unfolds after Spring and Summer begins to slow down. Every season is necessary and beautiful in its own right.
So, where are we now? Ahhh, those glorious early days of summer are here. (I'm sorry if the calendar date does not match up with the official start, but in my book, once you see a lightning bug...it's summer baby! And that happened about three weeks ago.)
The first harvest of lavender has been made. There are eight large bunches hanging from the herb drying rack on the sun porch and new blooms are waiting to be picked.
I can't keep up with the lettuce picking. Apparently, I thought I needed to plant enough to feed everyone in a five mile radius.
The raised beds are growing like gangbusters! Onions, more lavender, sunflowers, herbs galore, lettuces, radishes, peas and carrots are creating my very own Farmer's Market of goodness in the backyard. Three additional gardens have been planted, the smallest plot being 30' x 50' in size. Two kinds of popcorn, sweet corn, potatoes, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, green beans, cabbages, bell peppers, and watermelons are all reaching for the sun. Come Fall, those crops will be replaced with cooler weather vegetables to carry us into a slower season. The strawberry bed is filling in. Raspberry canes are shooting up, as are the grape vines. Elderberry plants are setting their roots. The cherry trees have been picked; peach trees are becoming weighted down with fruit; apple trees are teasing with a couple of orbs apiece; while the plum trees are not playing this year.
The chickens and sheep are happily doing their thing in their respective areas.
What is NOT growing? That blankety-blank-blank purple sweater that sits in my knitting bag and silently mocks me with its weepy purple dye job and seemingly never lengthening body. The only thing saving it from being ripped out is my pride and the terrifying thought that I would have to admit to my knitting group that the yarn got the best of me...again.
Perhaps it is not purple sweater season...ever...