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Snow, sunflowers and reflections

It's a crisp, clear, cold day (the three Cs) at the farmette. Got 10 centimetres (four inches) of snow over night, and there's 43 centimetres (17 inches) on the ground.

Everything was stunning this morning. These photos were taken shortly after seven. Pretty beautiful show Mother Nature put on. I especially like the fact that it wasn't pitch black out there. Days are getting longer. Yay.

Given that we have as much of the white stuff on the ground as we've had all year, I figured it was about time to start planning for the gardens.

Yesterday, I pulled out the cardboard box of seeds I'd put away last fall to do the annual need-it, got-it, need-it, got-it routine.

As you can see, I'm not fussy or meticulous by the time I'm ready to pack it in...just make sure everything is rolled up in some kind of order. Okay, complete chaos is more like it.

While I was rummaging around taking inventory, I came across a treasure that I'd almost forgotten about.

Before our veterinarian Melanie Grein died of pancreatic cancer last fall, she had arranged to have lovely mementos sent to her friends and clients.

Rob and I received a small bag of sunflower seeds with her photo attached to it in the mail shortly after the funeral. On the back of the photo there was a couple of paragraphs about why she was sharing these precious little life packets.

"They are long known for their symbolism of adoration, loyalty and longevity" - is what she said of one of her favourite flowers, and asked that we plant them when the weather suited. The real zinger is that she signed it herself - in her handwriting. When I looked again at the photo and that signature, I thought of her - and welled up. She was such a force. And we miss her.

When I sow the seeds long after all this snow has melted, I'll make sure I take extra special care to water and feed the wonderful sunbursts that will emerge from the earth. I'll think fondly of Melanie - her razor-sharp brain, her goodness, her generosity and her wicked sense of humour.

During these seemingly endless pandemic times, I think it's more important than ever to savour the special moments we have. And really appreciate the wonderful people who support us and make our lives better. Until next week.


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