cabbage

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This word and picture are all I have to celebrate the daughter of Robin’s daughter who at this moment is making her way out of her mother into this world of wonders (or does she know more about it already? if so we will let her describe it to us). Robin is my partner. Genevieve is her daughter, great with child for another hour or two. Then she will be what . . . even more great, and no doubt grateful. This is the cabbage Robin grew in our flower garden. I am tending it here while she is away tending to the details of emerging life, the mid-grand-wifery of waiting on a new generation. First one of these for her, and by pure vicarious luck a first for me too of whatever it is. I do not know what one of these wee things is, only that it has me looking after this magnificent cabbage. The nasturtiums will pepper the salad of delights that will feed us this winter.

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