I know, I know… mea culpa. The leeks didn’t get dug up before the snow fell and turned to ice, freezing them in situ (why am I speaking Latin?).

This morning as I walked past I swore I heard their cold, muffled cries: you little shit, you promised you’d get us out of here before this happened!! We were SUPPOSED to be be soup! 

Okay, maybe I didn’t hear anything. But you should have seen their angry little faces…

I took a deep breath, kept walking, and assuaged my guilt with a pot of tea made from a few leaves of sweet (unaccusing) woodruff I found poking through the ice.