Missing the Bees

Sisters, come with me! Come to the meadow
soft with grass, and there let us weave
magic garlands for ourselves. And as we
weave, let us create happy futures:

let us weave for abundant grain,
let us weave for the barley ears,

Let us weave for the oats and the wheat,
let us weave for thick heads of cabbage.

--Russian folksong

On way in which we can redeem our relationship with food is to grow some of what we eat.

Mir and I have talked about this on and off, about having a small vegetable garden so that we could grow some of our own things. I think it would be an awesome thing to do. Something I'd love to do.

I have fond memories of going to my maternal grandmother's house and helping to pick the peas, beans, cabbages and potatoes that grandad used to grow in the back garden. He did some serious gardening back when he was alive. The whole of one side of the yard given over to his vegetable plot, all set out neatly in rows... beans and peas growing up poles. You can't beat home grown vegetables.

I'd like to have that experience again, but with a garden of our own - Mir and I.

I wondered if I could try and do it here, in pots, but I don't know how successful it would be... I think I'd have to do the job of the bees myself, and while I know that's possible, with a paint brush or whatever, it isn't quite what nature intended, and I don't know how successful I'd be at that. I've not yet seen any bees, or the like visiting the flowers here - and I only just realised that this was the case. Bizarre now I come to think about it, but it's true. I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but... I miss them. I miss hearing their buzzing as they fly from flower to flower, natures little 'husbanders' for their flowery kin. I miss running away from them because I'm scared of them... daft as that may sound.