Hello there, Rural Sprout readers, 

It’s Friday, and it’s a cold one. I hope you’re all staying warm and dressing in layers if you’re also affected by this weather. Copious amounts of tea and hot cocoa are being drunk here, and my handknit sweater collection is in constant rotation. 

I was thinking about rhubarb yesterday. 

I can’t wait for mine to emerge so I can bake a pie. I got thinking about how in this day and age, you can walk into most grocery stores and purchase any fruit or vegetable, no matter the time of year. But not rhubarb. It seems to be the last truly seasonal produce we grow.

We’ve forgotten what it means to wait in anticipation for that special fruit or veggie that only shows up at one particular time each year. Perhaps that’s why I’m craving a slice of my mom’s rhubarb custard pie so much this week.