Last year’s kale lived all winter. My fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around the green stem emerging from the rocks of the raised bed. It went to seed this Spring, and by late summer, I saved resilient pods. With only a few weeks to go before this fall’s first frost, I tossed them back into their birth bed, half-hopefully. Maybe as the cold comes I can create a plastic cover for them, a “hot house”, or “cold frame”, or other such name – it’s all the same: capture the Sun, condense the liquid, refeed the seed. Those will be the grandbabies of the momma plant. Does that make me Grandma too?