Okay, first off, sorry I'm late posting this. It's been one of those mornings. I'd tell you about it, but you don't want to know. Really.
But! More importantly, my peas are alive! Everyone cheer and let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. Why? Because this is monumental news. Really!
Every year I plant a garden because I love fresh produce. Tomatoes and cucumbers and summer squash. Mmmmmmm. Yum. But the most beloved and coveted bounty of the season is the fresh peas. Way more than yum. Peas and I are close. How close, you ask. I spend eleven months of the year drooling for them kind of close. Addiction may be the right word.
Anywho, peas need to be planted early because the don't do well in the heat of summer, so I planted mine several weeks ago. Several long weeks ago. Okay, it was almost a month.
And then it snowed. A lot. And then it rained. A lot. And my peas never came up. I went out and stared at the sodden dirt. I called to them, begging them to grow. I prayed that the excess moisture hadn't rotted them before they could even germinate. I begged some more. Nothing.
Then I mourned.
And guess what poked their little green heads above the dirt yesterday? My peas. Happy sighs abound.
Aren't they cute?
And they're little living miracles to remind me of the most important miracle of all. An empty tomb.
Happy Easter everyone.