The last harvest

This afternoon was the last nice day we're going to have for a while.  It was almost 50 degrees out, and beautiful for walking, even though the brisk breeze and dark clouds to the west signaled imminent change.  We're supposed to have the coldest weather in 18 years, never getting above zero tomorrow.

I came home from my walk just as the first drops of rain were starting to fall, with a mission: to harvest the last of the parsley.  We've had a beautiful crop this year, but it will never survive below zero and snow burial.

It's on its last legs, with the stems already turning yellow and mushy from last week's cold and snow.  But the leaves are still green and I'll get a good batch of tabouli out of it.

Losing your parsley for the winter is no big deal; it happens every year.  But we're probably also going to lose our rosemary, and that's cause for grief.  We've been nursing this plant for several years.  The winters haven't been terribly bad, and this plant is an Arp strain, bred to allegedly survive as cold as -10.  The worst thing that has happened to our plant was being overrun a couple of years ago by an overenthusiastic zucchetta vine; the rosemary almost didn't live to tell the tale.  But it came back, and this year it was glorious.

We picked some and put it in a vase.  Not sure how long it will last for culinary purposes, but it will make the room smell good while the arctic winds howl outside.