We’ve planted our garden. Actually, that should be plural, because we’re planting all over the place: some veggies in the back, some in the front.

Nothing we do will compare with Pani Barnas’s garden in Poland. I live rented from her for a couple of years and every summer, she had a garden that amazed me.

“One day,” I tell K, “one day we’ll have a garden like this.”

Then I go out to prepare our two small patches for planting. The next day everything aches in a most splendid way, and I think, “Why rush?”