The rhubarb’s up. The sight of it has me all atwitter. We planted the patch about three years ago, and finally, the plants are established and healthy. So this spring we’ll have rhubarb pie, rhubarb crisp, strawberry-rhubarb jam – I can taste it already.
For all you asparagus lovers, the stuff’s not up yet. But be patient. A few more warm and rainy days and you, along with my husband and mother, will be happy people.
So tell me, why does the sight of rhubarb, and even the prospect of asparagus, make me so happy? Why does it tickle me as much as the museums we saw in Savannah? A walk around my yard makes me giddy. I greet the peonies, tulips and daffodils like long lost friends. The sight of the magnolia blossoms, ready to burst into bloom any day now, leave me breathless. Even pulling dandelions and creeping charlie and quack grass satisfies me more than the delicious southern cooking we tasted.
Our trip was great. I enjoyed every minute spent with my sister and mom. But coming home is even better. And arriving when the rhubarb’s waving – well, that’s a blessing to treasure.
