What's Possible


Want to read this email on the web? Click here.

“I dwell in possibility…”
Emily Dickinson

Dear Reader,

It seems our 4-inch snowpack from last week is planning to stay, which would ordinarily keep me out of the garden, except for this one thing. Under that layer, there is something worth harvesting and a story that wants to be told.

As I'm sure you have come to realize, I’m a born experimenter. I love nothing more than a wild first attempt, and envisioning second tries can be equally exciting. Last fall, with some pretty cool self-constructed low tunnels filled with winter greens, we made a very noble attempt to extend our growing season. It wasn’t long into winter, however, when we realized two things:

1. We had started way too late, causing the plants to miss out on a final growing spurt.

2. Those nifty tunnels that looked great on YouTube were not so accessible with a few inches of snow and ice on the ground.

Back to the drawing board, we decided to test the concept again, planting earlier, using proven frost-hardy greens, and skipping any cover. We'd consider it a win if we could produce enough to create daily salads into November.

The cold-hardy lettuce varieties were, to my surprise, going strong, surviving multiple hard frosts right through Thanksgiving. The Ice Argula made it into the first week of December. Now, on the 13th of December, with a snow cover, we are still making salads with one stellar green. Mind you, I know the end is near, but I am relishing not only every harvest but every bite of home-grown salad. The thought of returning to factory-farmed lettuce shipped in from who knows where keeps me shoveling a path into the garden and cutting through ice to harvest. If you are gardening in the Northeast or Pacific Northwest, please take note and add mâche to your seed list.

It is quite possible that I did roll my eyes a time or two at Joachim in August as he planted what seemed an absurd amount of these tiny clusters. I certainly knew mâche well from our life in Germany and appreciated its leafy texture and nutty taste.

But did we really need 150 plants? If asked now, I’d say yes as it's mid-December, and this daily salad-eating family hasn’t bought salad greens since early June. But late summer, I was not so sure.


Now, in December, I bundle up and make my way through the snowy path every other day, colander and a serrated knife in hand. Some days, like Tuesday, when it was minus 5 degrees Fahrenheit, I felt a small hatchet would have been more productive. I’ve learned quite a bit in this experiment. One interesting tidbit to tuck away is that on those super cold mornings, the mâche requires some time adapting on the screen porch before the shock of the warm kitchen. A step I am more than willing to take to enjoy the benefits of the harvest.

Given the insight gained last week on the three stages of winter dormancy in trees, you might wonder what’s going on with this mâche. The mâche, or any other super hardy green, will indeed go into its own dormancy cycle, halting all growth. Those little guys in the photo haven’t grown a smidge since November. Instead, their energy has gone into modifications to survive the deep cold. When I cut them and slowly bring them to room temperature, they aren’t damaged because the adaptive changes in the cells have prevented this. In a short stretch of time, it would appear they actually spring back to life.

At this point, you are either reading this and totally get the desire to explore what’s possible, or you are shaking your head, saying, Just go to the Co-op, Lauren, and buy some lettuce. For that crowd, I have two responses; choose whichever one resonates best.

I don’t harbor any fantasy that I can achieve complete sovereignty over my food sources, but I do want the skills to grow what I can and get as close as I can to knowing the source for the rest. I do envision a future where each one of us can grow a year’s supply of one food, be it onions, apples, or basil, and I am committed to supporting folks in doing that. Just imagine the shift that could create.

On an equally important note, our winter greens experiment is really about exploring the limits of what’s possible, something each one of you can do. Testing your limits doesn't need to be restricted to the garden, although it is a good practice ground. This can apply to any aspect of life. Where can you push the edges of what you think is impossible? Play with that next week and let me know what comes up for you. Given the Sun Transit and energy available, I would think it's a good time to peacefully receive a creative idea or two.

Until next week,

A perfect Introduction to the world of Gemmos

Sun Transits 9-18 December

video preview

Sagittarius Season

video preview

Copyright @2025 Gemmos with Lauren Hubele
You are receiving this email because you have shown interest in
Gemmos with Lauren Hubele? Lauren's work? Lauren's writing?


Our mailing address is:
Gemmotherapy with Lauren Hubele
180 Hurricane Road
Keene, New Hampshire 03431

JOIN MY COMM

UNITY | GEMMO STORE

Want to change how you receive these emails?
You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.

Field Notes from Lauren

I began expressing my big Cancer emotions through writing at a very young age. For me, the unique act of writing is what allows me to process and evolve fully . Today, my weekly missives follow themes that weave between the literal fields of my work in the Gemmo Forest, our family homestead garden, and the energy field we all experience. My life now follows the rhythm of the land. From spring through fall, I can be found outdoors, hands in the dirt, working alongside her husband, Joachim, to tend our 7,500-square-foot family garden or with local volunteers caring for Gemmo Forest. When the cold sets in and the fields rest, I return indoors, where I rekindle my love of writing by the wood stove, always with my faithful calico, Ruby, curled close by.

Read more from Field Notes from Lauren

Want to read this email on the web? Click here. In March the earth remembers its own name. Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking. The rivers begin to sing. - Mary Oliver Dear Reader Let's face it, March is not a month prepared to win any popularity contest. October and May, with their showy leaves and blossoms, certainly have a competitive edge. Even December has its fan club. It’s likely that March might rank ahead of January, but that’s not saying much. To be truthful, the weeks that...

Want to read this email on the web? Click here. The work you do here might seem to be nothing more than chores, but in fact, over time, you are cultivating a space fit to receive great things. ~Hilary Barrett Dear Reader, Today, the sun completes its transit through Gate 37, the Gate of Friendship, the I Ching hexagram of The Family, or People in the Home. Questions may have arisen for you regarding home boundaries, your inner relationship with home, or what growth your home environment...

Want to read this email on the web? Click here. Dear Reader, It is certainly apropos that as I write of this seasonal transition, our latest snowstorm would arrive. The wind was so strong moments ago, swirling the flakes in every which direction, that I was certain it was rising from the earth rather than falling from the sky. Given the other abnormalities we are witnessing, perhaps it was. Asit settled into a rapid yet steady downfall., I got down to work with thewood stove glowsing and my...