Winter has been hanging on forever. It seems like it’s January 115th, rather than more than halfway through April. Some of the plants know that springtime is almost here – there are buds, some flowers are pushing up their stalks – but we have no blossoms yet, because it’s too dang cold, and we keep getting more snow and ice. As if anybody wants more snow and ice. Winter, go home!
I know that spring will be coming soon. It’s not just the calendar that tells me so – I spied some lovely stalks of rhubarb on my last trip to the local farmers’ market! Yes, they were greenhouse-grown. Wise local farmer, he has a plan for fickle springs.
I made rhubarb compote – or, as my grandmother would have called it, stewed rhubarb. Easy, delicious, and it tastes like spring.