What do I grow
Planning, faith, patience, perseverance – and victory!
It’s that time of year when thoughts turn to gardening. Actually, mom has been dreaming and planning since Christmas, and I swear those seed catalogs are what gets her through an up north January most years. Even though it snowed last week, the hills are turning green and the sun warms most days. Up here, the buds are barely swelling on the orchard trees, but down in town leaves are out, grass needs mowing, and crab apples are blooming. 
“She turned to the sunlight and shook her blue head,
And whispered to her neighbor: Winter is dead”
in apology to A A Milne
I hear a lot more people are getting interested in gardening these days, some driven back to the land by fears of a plague, or government upheaval, or the general catastrophic disintegration of society as we know it. Life began in a garden after all, and maybe we all feel a pining to get back there.
The Victory Garden
This is not the first time that the bounty of the earth plus a little self-sufficiency brought strength, purpose, and got things growing. 
There was a time when planting a garden went beyond just providing some lettuce and flowers for the table.
In 1943, 20 million gardens were producing millions of tons of food. Back then, the whole nation got behind the defense of their country. 
Victory Gardens, also called “war gardens” or “food gardens for defense”, were planted during World Wars I and II to free up the public food supply for soldiers. These gardens aided the war effort and boosted morale back home. They added about 41 percent of all the vegetables consumed in the nation.
In every state, people plowed up yards, lawns, flower gardens and vacant lots to grow their own vegetables. Public land was put to use; everywhere, parks and vacant lots were planted. Then families bought pressure cookers and canned those goods, too. It turns out, 9-10 million tons was grown each year, equal to all the commercial production of fresh vegetables.
There were other patriotic conservation sacrifices on the home-front too. Wilson’s Whitehouse lawn became sheep pasture in 1918, and the sale of the wool benefited the Red Cross. 
During World War II, the government rationed foods like sugar, butter, milk, cheese, eggs, coffee, meat and canned goods. And Daylight Savings Time started in the ’40’s, in an effort to conserve power.
A cowdog starts her garden
Now I know a little bit about gardening, too. At least I am very good at digging.
Mom loves to plant trees, we plant dozens every year, and I help digging the holes.
I am not asked to help dig when she plants seeds, however. It is my job to keep the chickens and cats out of the garden then. I think.
I like to plant things with dog names – dogtooth violet, dogwood, dogbane, dog rose, mad dog skullcap…but NOT Hounds tongue!
We have lots of seeds, and there are many places to get good seeds. And no GMO’s! Mom’s favorite seed source is Sandhill Preservation, a dedicated place in Iowa that raises poultry and plants for the preservation of old varieties. We plant in troughs and in the ground; and because Mom loves to garden year-round, she got this neat planter for growing inside. But I’m not sure we can trust the cats not to tip it over. It is an Aerogarden: https://amzn.to/3tRuLJk
Soon greens will be ready and I will get some in my dinner.
We have planted trees as long as I can remember. Now Sprout helps out. 
There are apples, pears, plums, all kinds of berries, and evergreens, mock orange, roses. This year we have a unique Mountain Ash, and mulberry saplings. We fight off voles and deer, another part of my job. I monitor watering and I fertilize sometimes, too.
With every plant, we bury sorrow and worry in the hole, waiting with faith and hope for the reward. We plant for others, mom tells me; we reach optimistically into the future when we carefully put them in the ground. Someday Sprout and his baby brother – and their grandchildren – will pick the fruit.
Gardening is a slow, quiet pursuit. It requires purposeful focus, patience, work. It is sometimes solitary, sometimes teamwork, like when I and little Sprout help out. Perhaps we all need to “victory garden” again. We need something we can all get behind – helpful, calming, focused, producing a tangible and tasty reward to save and share. No TV, no phones – a methodical plan, a goal to wait for, a hopeful reason without the instant, disjointed, loud way of the world today. The feel of the cool earth in my paws. There can be no fighting, no rioting, no accusing, no swearing in the garden. That is where we can find victory.
