In April 2024, Briana was heavily pregnant with our fourth baby when a huge blizzard blew through town, bringing several inches of thick, wet snow and howling winds. As we tucked into bed after securing the animals, we heard a distant scraping sound outside. Figuring that it was just some ice being blown off of the roof, we went to sleep without bothering to check. In the morning, we discovered what really happened.
As our early-rising son trundled down the stairs, we heard him pause a few steps from the landing.
“Oh ... dear!“ he shouted. ”Mom! Dad! Come look!”
We met him in the hallway and peered down the window that looks out over the driveway. Our view was a mess of tangled branches and snow. The thud we’d mistaken for ice was actually a fallen section of an enormous maple tree. And underneath it all was our minivan, flattened like a pancake.
This began our month-long search to acquire a vehicle. By the time we got our new van parked in the driveway, it was nearly the end of May. We hadn’t planted a single thing in the garden, and Briana was now only a week away from her due date.
Determined to get something done before the baby arrived, Briana purchased seed potatoes and strawberry starts and dug through her seed catalog for herbs and our ever-stalwart tomatoes. Of course, the day she chose to plant all of these was the day she went into labor. Puttering around in the garden, Briana would pause between plantings to breathe through a contraction. Before the sun went down, she’d gotten everything she wanted in the ground. A few hours later, we were at the hospital welcoming our newborn. Briana credits the speed and ease of the delivery to the exercise she got out in the garden.
With our daughter safely home, the garden was put on the back burner for many weeks. Ironically, it thrived on our neglect. The 2024 harvest would end up being our best yet. We got loads of shiny golden potatoes, brilliant red tomatoes, ripe strawberries, fresh herbs, and even a small amount of blueberries from the bushes we’d planted the year before. It may not have been enough to fill our pantry, but it was still a harvest. We got homegrown produce on our dinner plates, and that counts for something.
For the first time, we were entering the winter planning season with a measure of confidence. As the snows of 2025 coated the garden beds—which we had once again covered with shredded leaves and wood chips—Briana decided that we should try a different approach in the spring. Instead of focusing heavily on tomatoes, we would only plant two vines and instead experiment with pickling cucumbers and peas. However, before we could plant those, our garden had a surprise for us.
The start of May 2025 yielded the first of the asparagus we’d planted two years earlier. They shot up in their signature green stalks and pointed, leafy heads. Now, here’s the thing about homegrown asparagus: After eating it, you can never go back to the supermarket stuff. The taste is totally superior, crisp and sweet, with only the slightest hint of minerals. Fresh asparagus is truly special and is well worth the wait.
It was later in the summer when we finally got the cucumbers and peas plated. Unfortunately, the high temperatures and baking sun caused the fledgling pea shoots to dry and wither. However, the cucumbers absolutely loved the heat. They grew in abundance along our sunny fence line, with a new oblong fruit appearing every few days. When it was time to harvest, Briana and our middle daughter spent a day in the kitchen making dill pickles. Like the asparagus, Briana’s homemade pickles greatly surpassed anything from the store. They were sharp, salty, and herbaceous, exactly how dill pickles should be. And we’d even managed to grow enough cucumbers to have several jars of pickles in the fridge. However, as we’re a pickle-loving family, those did not last long.
Buoyed by this success, we headed into the winter with renewed drive and enthusiasm for the 2026 garden. And it, so far, has proven to be our most surprising garden yet.
