Storms continue to rage through Northern California for the second week straight. They are pretty intense, including a tornado warning for our county and some of its neighbors. Pray for safety for us and for our neighbors!

We’ve had power outages on and off all week due to the gale and flood warnings. It’s been an exercise in flexibility for our family. We never know if we will wake up warm with the preprogrammed coffee pot brewing, or to a dark and chilly house with no running water. It’s been pretty stressful, especially with a rambunctious almost one-year-old. Both Jake and I work remotely too (him full-time, me part-time) and the lack of power and internet has added to the stress. Thankfully, both our employers are understanding.

My best friend joked that we’re living like pioneers. We have our bathtub full of nonpotable water for toilet flushing and miscellaneous cleaning, and a few five gallon jugs full for drinking, cooking, and teeth brushing. I have new respect for the labor it takes to cook, clean, and do basic household functions without the luxury of electricity.

If I’m being completely honest, we’d given up trying to cook three meals a day in a house without electricity. Michael enjoyed the new experience of eating breakfast in a restaurant and charmed the waitresses and cashiers while we got some much needed hot coffee.

During one of Michael’s naps with grandpa, I took advantage of my limited independent time to get started in my garden. There was a lull in the storm and the rain has made the ground wonderfully soft and perfect for leveling as we make baby steps towards the garden I have envisioned.

I assembled two small galvanized steel beds (2×4), laid down some hardware cloth to keep the ground squirrels from interfering with my plans, and filled the beds with soil and compost. The fresh air did wonders for my mind and body (though I was quite sore from all the shoveling and ground leveling).

Thankfully, the power returned as I assembled the last bed. I’m grateful, otherwise I would’ve spent the next few days smelling of sweat and compost.

I’ve helped in my parents’ garden ever since I was young, but this is my first time really having my own garden. I’m starting out small, but I have grand ideas for this homestead. I have plans for cultivating produce for our kitchen and to preserve, and herbs for food and medicine, and even plants for natural dyes. But one small step at a time.

For a while now I’ve been focusing on making: what can I create with my hands that both gives to me and gives to my community? What small steps can I take to cultivate life and joy? Today, that small step was gardening outside in the rain with my son. Even though it was drizzling and windy, I wanted to transplant my lavender and rosemary to the wind-sheltered beds before their pots got blown over in the storm. We both bundled up and prepared to get muddy. Michael was very excited to help me, and to play in the garden.

I loved watching him explore with his hands and help me pack the dirt around the roots. Even after we had transplanted both the lavender and rosemary, he wanted to stay and toddle around the beds, one hand holding my spade.

We spent a lot of time outside, and I got to see the garden from his eyes. Where I saw ordinary things, he saw magic. He was quite upset when I made him go inside, as the drizzle had become a steady downpour and the wind had picked back up.

Now, as I sit inside and hold him while he has his afternoon rest time, I can hear thunder thrumming low across the horizon outside. The storms are continuing, and in my journal, the plans for my garden wait.

To all of you more experienced gardeners out there: do you have any tips for me? Things to keep in mind as I start to cultivate what I hope will be a lifelong practice?