annual

So I need to brag for a sec . . .
First off, everyone who’s been around either my hubby or I since we’ve known each other or wed (approximately, oh, 6-years-minus-4-days ago [;-)] probably knows that he’s one of the biggest green thumbs I know. He and my mom are probably neck-in-neck in that race. So our garden these days is a delight. Two years into living Stateside, and we already spend all year (no greenhouse), picking fresh greens from the garden. Summer of course is the boon. Depending when you come by, or see either of us, you may be forced to go home with Kale, Radishes, Beets, Mustard Greens, Okra, Tomatoes, Sweet Peas, Watermelon, Green Beans, Carrots . . . enough, already, I hear you say! You get the picture.
Now usually, we are a food-focused household, in that all our growings, animal-ownings, and such, are based upon how they will contribute to our dinner table. Garden=vegetables. Goats=milk/yogurt/cheese. Chickens=eggs. Rabbits=meat.
But today we had a new item of interest enter our homestead. When we lived in Ghana, in a second-floor apartment, we had a little balcony garden (or set of pots, as it were). One of those pots contained a flower that I had flipped over when biking past it, so smitten that I stopped to ask about it when I passed while a woman was outside with them. I boldly asked for a take-home bloom to put on my table. She promptly reached over to one of the plants in the yard and, rather than snipping a bloom as I expect, she tugged to uproot the tall plant and handed it to me with a smile. I gasped, slightly embarrassed at the extravagance of her response. But I accepted.
Back home, Peter quickly turned that plant into a flowering abundance, and it proceeded to adorn our table for the remainder of that final year of our lives in that country.
Fast forward.
In his future-minded, experimental playfulness, Peter included a pocketful of those flower seeds when we packed to leave the country. And about a year later, once we had begun settling into our homestead here, he planted them. This month he surprised me with the announcement that we would soon have a “Ghana bloom.” And today, on our dining room table, we celebrate. We may both be currently barreling through respective work assignments, complaining about the drudgery of homework that needs to be down; but on a deeper, soul-satisfying level, we know that we live in a land of plenty. We see that it is good.