when a cabbage bridges generations in my backyard

Today, I stood in my backyard, hands deep in the cool earth, helping my son harvest a cabbage he grew for the Bonnie scholarship contest. The head was massive—15 pounds!—and as we lifted it together, I couldn’t help but remember my own childhood summers, when my mother’s garden was the heart of our family. Back then, gardening was about survival and tradition, not contests or scholarships. Now, I see my son’s pride in this cabbage, but I also wonder: has gardening become too much about trophies and less about togetherness? My neighbors tease me, saying our old-fashioned rows of vegetables look out of place next to their manicured lawns and ornamental grasses. Some even complain that my vegetable patch isn’t as pretty as their flowerbeds. But to me, this cabbage is more than a vegetable—it’s a link between generations, a lesson in patience, and a reminder of the healing power of working the soil. Still, I hear the debates in our community: Should we prioritize native plants and pollinator gardens, or keep growing the crops our families have always loved? Is it right for HOAs to tell us what we can plant? As the seasons shift and our weather grows more unpredictable, I wonder if my son will pass on these traditions, or if he’ll choose a different path. For now, though, we celebrate this giant cabbage, a symbol of both change and continuity in our little corner of North America. #familygardening #generations #communitydebate #Gardening