To Every Thing There Is a Season

Today, we will lay my mother to rest.  The garden has continued to grow as we prepare for this day after her passing on 16 June, 2015.  She and my father always had a garden.  She froze and canned vegetables and they were my mentors.  My father passed away in 2009.

Yesterday, I froze zucchini.  I am canning jalapenos and have frozen several loaves of zucchini bread.

To every [thing there is] a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up [that which is] planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

garden_06182015_two garden_06182015_one

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