Are you familiar with the sweater curse? If you are a knitter you are. Another version of the proverbial curse is to attribute the same to family members or friends. You spend hours and hours — weeks, even months of your time knitting some article of clothing or an item that you hope they will enjoy and will offer them a piece of your heart, and it gets relegated to a back closet somewhere or worse, treated with disregard: on the floor, the dog chews on it, you get the idea.

I would like to propose a version of the sweater curse as it applies to organic produce. As a gardener, you spend hours and hours preparing the soil, agonizing over organic, heirloom seeds. Start those seeds indoors, baby them along, harden them off and finally plant them in your carefully tilled garden. Then they are tended: protected from hail and varmints, heat and cold,  and bugs meticulously hand-picked and disposed of. Weeds kept at bay with a hoe — back breaking work, but worth it for the result of wholesome, organic sustenance for your table.

Then comes preservation! Picking, shelling, chopping, pitting, preparing, mixing. Jars to sterilize, boiling pots of water to heat in the thick of summer. The canning, the checking of lids. All in the name of quality organic sustenance for your family.

Eggs! What of organic eggs? The maintenance of the flock, the cleaning of the coop. The feeding, the watering, the doctoring when needed. All for those organic wonders to place in a cardboard carton.

I admit, when I hand over a basket of produce, a jar of jam, a carton of eggs, it is difficult to let go.  This is so much more than mere groceries — it is true sustenance, obtained by many hours of planning and laboring. I am hopeful that the recipient will realize what a gift from the heart it truly is. I know when I am the lucky recipient of such — I take it for what I hope it is worth. I am grateful — excited — wanting to be worthy of such a treat.

To me, the best I can do is to return the favor, in kind. Some of my own produce that has made it this year, a carton of eggs, a few jars of wild raspberry jam. Or even, perhaps, a hand-knitted hat or mittens in preparation for the colder months to come.

*Image by Swedish Folk Artist Elsa Beskow.

This little guy was hilarious. I was hanging out in my favorite place – the hammock, listening to all the birds flocking around. There is a good-size koi pond by the back deck and the birds really like to congregate in the quacking asp trees between the hammock and the pond. Anyway, I heard the typical “chicka dee-dee-dee” call of the chickadee and I started to mimic it. I heard chicka dee-dee-dee and I would chicka dee-dee-dee right back. This little guy above was answering me! He would fly back and forth from the tree to the pergola where I was swinging in the hammock, calling to me. It lasted a good 30 minutes. I guess I am easily entertained . . .

I grabbed some field watercolors and some cold-pressed paper and did a quick sketch of him. Not really anatomically correct, but hey, done on the fly (get it — on the fly?) and swinging in the hammock. I think I captured his jaunty, fluffy personality.