My turn to crow

Earlier in the summer I pouted while my friends planted their gardens.  I glared at my sun scorched yard as I read accounts of gardens flowering and fruiting.  I admit I thought unkind thoughts when I saw pictures of dew glistening on tomatoes in the early morning sun, and then realized that it was over 100 degrees at 6am in my neighborhood.  I would like to apologize, and in turn gloat a little.  As most of my dear loved ones are bedding their gardens down for the winter and accepting that there are lots of rutabagas in their future, I am gleefully planting heirloom purple basil and kale.  Last week it didn't even top 105 in the afternoon! 
I can feel myself coming alive and now I understand how a tree feels after being dormant.  This summer was spent merely surviving, and occasionally wondering what it would feel like to not sweat for even a moment.  There was no inspiration, I didn't even want to cook, which for me is like not breathing.  Now I can see relief, I can see life coming back, I can see rows and rows of pickling cucumbers. 
Here is what I envision for Christmas.  Baskets sent to loved ones all around the country filled with rosewater lemonade, garlicky heirloom dill pickles, rosemary scented homemade crackers, and of course a selection of candies.  I'm thinking pumpkin pie spice, candy cane, plum brandy and eggnog flavors.  My creativity is coming surging back and I daydream of all the bounty I will reap as I dig manure into my garden bed.  It helps me get past the fact that I am once again playing with poo, something that I do more than I ever thought I would.  So I apologize for my absence over the past few months but I'm back and better than ever!  So tell me, what you would like in your Christmas basket?