What the garden gave us

There are some seasons of life that seem to move all at once.

The tomatoes turn red after weeks of waiting. The peaches all ripen on the same afternoon. The zucchini that looked perfectly small yesterday somehow doubles in size overnight. You spend so much time wondering when things will happen that you almost miss them while they’re happening.

I’ve been feeling that way lately.

This summer has been full in the loveliest, messiest sense of the word. The garden has become part of our rhythm in a way I hadn’t quite expected. Every morning begins with stepping outside with a cup of tea in hand curious to what changed overnight. Some mornings, nothing. Other mornings, enough green beans for dinner.

A tomato that’s finally decided it’s ready.

Another zucchini that somehow escaped my attention for just long enough to become enormous.

This is my first proper vegetable garden, and it’s been much more of a learning curve than I imagined. I went into it thinking gardening was mostly about planting well. It turns out it’s mostly about paying attention.I’ve made plenty of mistakes already. I’ve worried over leaves that turned yellow, forgotten to harvest things in time, planted a few things too close together, didn’t trellis and celebrated tiny victories that probably seem very ordinary to people who have been gardening for years. The tomatoes finally started ripening this week, and I don’t think grocery store tomatoes will ever feel quite the same again. There’s something about picking one that’s still warm from the afternoon sun that makes dinner feel slower somehow. More intentional.

The green beans have quietly become one of my favorite things to grow. They hide beneath the leaves, and the children have turned finding them into a game. We always discover a few we missed the day before, and somehow there are always more than I expected.

The zucchini, on the other hand, has taught me humility.I now understand why every gardener spends half of summer trying to convince their neighbors to take some home. I’ve been roasting it, grilling it, folding it into pasta, baking it into bread—really, finding any excuse to use one more zucchini before another appears.

Cooking has looked a little different lately because of the garden. Instead of deciding what I’d like to make and buying ingredients to match, I’ve been opening the back door first.Dinner has become whatever is ready.I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy cooking this way.

There’s something comforting about letting the season decide for you every now and then. Summer doesn’t ask very much of us in the kitchen. Tomatoes only need flaky salt and good olive oil. Green beans are happiest in a hot pan with garlic and lemon. Peaches barely need anything before they become dessert.

I’ve found myself wanting that in other parts of life too. Outside of the kitchen, I’ve been slowly working on furnishing the house.And I really do mean slowly.

I think I’ve accepted that I’m simply not someone who can decorate an entire room in one afternoon. I wish I were. It would certainly save me from spending an unreasonable amount of time deciding between two nearly identical lamps. Some pieces arrive immediately. Others take weeks of searching before I find the one that makes the room feel a little more like itself. But Facebook marketplace has felt like a magical place full of treasures. I keep describing it as wanting the house to feel like a chic grandmother’s home. Not perfect. Just deeply lived in. I imagine old wooden furniture that carries little scratches from years of use. Linen curtains that soften the afternoon light. Shelves filled with books that have actually been read. Silver bowls holding fruit one day and wildflowers the next. A kitchen where something is almost always cooling on the counter. The kind of home that feels collected instead of completed. I’m learning that creating that feeling takes time. More time than I expected, honestly. There are plenty of empty rooms that I’m itching to fill simply because they’re empty, but I’m trying to resist that urge. I’d rather wait for the piece that makes me smile every time I walk past it than settle for something that simply fills the space.

After such a full year, there is something deeply comforting about ordinary days again. These moments are so quiet that they’re easy to overlook. But I think they’re the ones I’ll remember most.

I’ve also been spending a lot of time finishing the cookbook, which still feels surreal to say out loud. It’s finally made it into print and arriving so soon! Seeing recipes that have lived in our home for years slowly become something I can finally share has made me appreciate how much food quietly marks the seasons of our lives.

I’m curious, if you’ve been growing a garden this year, what has surprised you most? What are your secret tips?

And if you’ve discovered yet another way to use zucchini, I have a feeling I’m going to need all the suggestions I can get.

I’ve never really liked Zucchini yet for some reason I decided to plant it. I’ve been harvesting huge squashes and am drowning in them at this point so I try to find creative ways to use them. This zucchini bread is perfectly sweet, moist and addicting!