We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasure. ~Thornton Wilder
I have spent much of this year trying to get my proverbial ducks in a row. “I just can’t get my head in the game,” I have muttered more times that I would care to admit.
My father passed away from skin cancer in mid-March, while my husband was midway through a round of bladder cancer treatments. Our flight to Omaha was canceled, as the Midwest was forecast to receive a blizzard. And receive a blizzard they did! We ended up driving north, in to the blizzard and through the blizzard, to make it to my father’s funeral. Bladder cancer treatments and long car rides do not go together. Add in the swirling, blinding snow and fierce winds and… Well, that is one road trip we will never forget, try as we might. I do firmly blame cite that day as to why… I just can’t get my head in the game. It is November? Already? How? When did it get so late? Where are my ducks? Not in a row! Is this grief? Or just wayward ducks? But here we are. Somehow. Thanksgiving Eve.
Despite all that, I do have much to be thankful for this year. In no particular order…
This year, I am extremely thankful for my husband’s health. We found out in July that he is NED – No evidence of disease. Yes, we are currently living in this weird gray area of “not actively a cancer patient” and trying to figure out what our new normal looks like, as we float between scans and cystoscopies. Bladder cancer is one of the most recurrent of cancers, and it is a cancer that often moves about the body, but for today we are thankful. NED. We will take it. The urology oncology department at UT-Southwestern is wonderful and we are so thankful to live near such an outstanding medical facility. My husband is a hard-core cyclist and is currently 650 miles shy of hitting his goal of biking 7,500 miles this year. I am thankful for his biking, as it is good for his body and his soul. It is also a great equalizer. He has his bike. I have my garden. I don’t say anything about how much time he bikes. He doesn’t say too much about how much money I spend on the garden. It’s all equal.
I cannot count my blessings without including my most precious one, my son. He was born premature via an emergency c-section due to HELLP Syndrome. We planted a Chinkapin Oak shortly after he came home from NICU and they have grown up together. (Both shown in photograph below) In a blink of an eye, they both now tower over me. Our son received his master’s degree in May of this year and is – drumroll, please – employed in his career field! The days were long, but the years were too short… We are forever thankful for the medical care we received before, during and after his birth.
This Thanksgiving week, I am thankful for my garden, for the joy it brings to my life, for the food it provides my body, for the healing energy it gives my soul. I am thankful for the wildlife that pass our way, such as the gulf fritillary caterpillar I spied this Thanksgiving Eve day. (Photograph below)
I am thankful for the rain and the sunshine that enables the garden to grow, such as the garlic that is already several inches tall after just a week in the ground. (Photograph below) I am thankful for my own health, as my body continues to play “Whack-A-Mole” with various ailments. This year, it has been my right shoulder and bicep, surgically repaired in late August. I am extremely thankful that I have been able to resume gardening this fall. (And very, very thankful that my husband took care of my garden while I was recovering from surgery!)
…all which we behold is full of blessings… ~ William Wordsworth
Notable harvests this year include: Our first tastes of loquats! Heavenly! And persimmons! Oh My. (Loquat shown in photograph below.)
One should never count their loquats before they ripen, but my Christmas loquat is currently blooming and I am ever so hopeful that I will get a good harvest next spring. As loquats bloom during the winter months, mine resides in a large container which comes in to the garage during freezing weather.
It has been another wonderful year for hot peppers. Here it is, late November, and I still have Tabasco peppers growing and soaking up the sunshine. (Photograph below)
I added seven new raised beds, plus a poly tunnel, early in 2025. I have hopes that those will be dedicated to vegetable production, otherwise I tend to let the flowers roam a bit too freely and crowd out the veg. This year was not a good test of that strategy due to the above mentioned “Can’t get my head in the game,” coupled with being sidelined from gardening while my shoulder and bicep recovered. The poly tunnel (currently minus its poly covering) is comically overgrown at the moment! (Photograph below) But – as I promised my tomato cages, when I stacked them up prior to my surgery: Here’s to a healthy and productive 2026!
In addition to the overgrown poly tunnel, I have lost more than one pathway, overtaken now by salvia coccinia. (Photograph below) Yes, I have my work cut out for me, reigning the garden back in. But I am thankful for free spirited reseeding flowers, such as this salvia, and the whimsy they bring as they pop up here and there.
It is perhaps odd to be thankful for garden art, but that is part of what makes a garden – well – a garden. The statuary. The decorations. Those unique touches. The stories and memories behind each piece, collected over the years. This angel (shown below) came to my garden early in the year, a free piece listed on our local “buy nothing” group. Yes, the bowl and a wing is broken, but – to me – that is what makes her so charming. I should mention here that she weighs in at a hefty 200-some-odd pounds and was a beast for me to get loaded in to my truck by myself. I am (on most days) thankful for my personal trainer. Without him, I wouldn’t push myself to lift such heavy weights which directly translated to being able to load this beast of an angel.
For gratitude not merely stands alone at the head of all the virtues, but is even mother of all the rest. ~ Cicero
I am ever thankful for family and friends, food on the table and a warm place to rest my head at night. For good books and chocolate. …to be continued… Until then, Keep calm and garden on!
(The loquat photograph was taken in April of this year. The remaining photographs were taken today, November 26th, on Thanksgiving Eve day, in my southern Denton County, Texas, garden.)
the melodious garden 