Bit of a change for everyone today. No chickens, no garden.
This has been bugging me for a while. One of the Walmarts in the area has a older man "greeter", who frequently after he welcomes you to Walmart he thanks the female customers for "sharing ypur beauty with us". Now this can come across different ways, the first time he said it to me he had just asked me to contribute to some charity and I declined. Here's how it went:
-Welcome to Walmart. Would you like to give to QQ charity today?
-Not today.
-Well, thank you for sharing your beauty with us today.
Now tone is everything, the tone of the last line came across as if he was calling me stingy. I stopped in my tracks and did one of those, "Did he really say what I think he said?" moments. I just kept shopping.
Nearly every time since then this man has been near the entrance, sometimes asking for contributions, sometimes not, but invariably he thanks me and every other female who enters the store for sharing their beauty with "us". The tone varies, sometimes it sounds as "Have a nice day!" having been repeated hundreds of times that day--just a meaningless phrase, other days a bit lecherous, other days sarcastic, sometimes it sounds like he actually means it.
I'm not there to share "my beauty" with anyone, especially strange men in Walmart. I'm just there for the Q-tips and the whole wheat pasta for $.99. It feels like walking past a construction site every time I enter that store. I cringe and get a knot in my stomach. Society keeps bludgeoning women with the idea that they are there for the sole purpose of being looked at. We know the truth, but this stupid idea keeps smacking us in the face anyway. It is time to get past that.
I want to ask that man why he doesn't ever say it to the male customers. I would love to be there when he thanks some guys for their rugged good looks and inner beauty. I would, of course, stand ready to call 911 for the ambulance.
If it is not appropriate to say to a man, it is not appropriate to say to a woman.
I think this man would be shocked to find out that some women (well, at least this one) feel that it can be a sexually charged statement (when it is not a snide commentary), but have been taught to ignore people who make inappropriate comments.
I would skip the store altogether just to not encounter this man, except that it is one of the very few places to shop within a 25 minute circle from my house. This last time I went there he was not at the entrance, I felt so relieved. It was this feeling of relief that made me realize how much "sharing my beauty" sounded like a catcall. A few moments later I realized, with that familiar pit in my stomach, that he was sitting by the exit door to check the receipts of the folks with electronics items, etc. as they leave. When I left the store he thanked me for sharing my beauty, as usual, and it will be the last time I will not speak up.
The next time I will head straight to customer service and fill in one of those nasty-grams that gets sent to corporate.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
No Neck Dog, Chickens and the Slumber Party
A new development, it was warm for a few days before our weekly six inches of snow, it was enough of a change that as the snow melts it is exposing bright, spring-green grass. A sign that we are headed in the right direction.
I've been too busy with other activities to do things like garden and whine about the weather. My daughter turned 12 this past week, and with the birthday comes the inevitable slumber party. I use the event as a way to kick myself in the behind to get some house cleaning done, despite the fact that I could name a few thousand productive things that I would prefer doing. After a week of mopping, polishing, sorting, organizing, recycling and tossing, I then commenced baking, decorating and other hostess-y things.
About an hour and a half before the first guests were set to arrive and I was frosting the chocolate cake, the chickens made distressing noises by the kitchen window, Paisley flew up past the glass in a panic. I rushed outside to find my neighbor's hugely overweight lab/pit mix, not quite a year old puppy trying to pounce on the girls. Ursula cut out from the rest and he pursued, she found the gap in the garden fence and lost him for a moment, but then found herself cornered. I sprinted out, coated with confectioner's sugar, and threw myself in between the two. Shrieking at the top of my lungs, hoping my neighbor would hear me. I kept telling the dog, "No!" and he would back off a bit, but he seemed mesmerized by what he perceived as giant, fluffy dog toys and seemed compelled to go back. He didn't have a collar on, there was no handle to hold. I tried and tried to hold him, but he kept slipping from my grip. He pounced again and Ursula dodged, I snagged her, kneed the dog and sprinted to the coop. Locked her in and the dog was on to seek out the next chicken. My daughter came out of the house having heard me shouting. "No, Nooooo, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", wearing socks, but no shoes, and tried to round up the others, but he just followed her and she didn't want to expose them, but we didn't want them out any more. She kept his attention on the back steps while I ran for one of the leashes that groomers use. He let me put it on and didn't seem to mind and then whoosh, it was off and he was off. I chased and caught him again and looped it again, but his neck was just as fat as his head and he slipped it again. I did this several more times, until I decided to tie the leash around his neck. The whole time I was bellowing, "Where the H*ll is your owner?" We got him to his owner when he called him, I was asking him to keep the dog in his yard, as my daughter went back to round up the rest of the chickens, Only to have Tank (the dog) escape again, he wouldn't come when his owner called. He chased Paisley around the house as my daughter gave chase, shrieked and pushed him away--she probably weighs about the same as Tank, about 100lbs. Paisley, smart girl, ran under the quince bush. The dog pursued, but then discovered quince thorns and hopped around the perimeter. In the mean time, I sprinted from the neighbor's yard, through the woods then across our yard to the quince bush, captured the evasive chicken, kneed the dog again and blasted over to the coop with the dog in hot pursuit, I slammed and latched the door right as his nose arrived. He took off to find the other chickens, our neighbor, citing knee surgeries, was just now arriving in our back yard. We finally were able to send Tank home, with a promise that he would either be on a lead or in the fence in the future and that he will wear his collar. We gathered up the Buffs and put everyone in the run, with snacks and water. Then my daughter and I had a good cry,straightened ourselves out and finished the preparations for her party. I felt like I had used ever shred of energy available chasing and fighting off the dog. The dog never seemed vicious, he had a goofy look on his face the entire time, listened to me, sometimes, and leaned up next to me for a pat when I put the leash on him. He just seemed compelled by some force to pounce on the chickens.
Just writing all this has been exhausting, If I hadn't been in reasonable shape, we wouldn't have chickens anymore, there's no way in my old shape I could have done what I did.
An hour or so later, the cake frosted...the girls came, then ran around outside in the dark playing flashlight tag ( I don't know the rules, darkness, flashlights, shrieking and giggling are all required) for a couple of hours waiting for the late comers. After that, they did the annual treasure hunt, per request of the birthday girl. They followed my riddles around the entire yard until they found this year's treasure, matching t-shirts and glow-in-the-dark fabric paint. One was disappointed that it wasn't candy like last year, though the candy was set out on the snack table, I guess it is the joy of discovery. Halfway through the hunt they discovered one can of silly string for each kid, of course, the obvious occurred. My daughter realized the next day why adults have some reservations about silly string, as she picked most of it out of the lawn, so that the chickens wouldn't eat it. (It appears that they don't even sense it, they walk right past, but who knew that?)
A friend lent me all the necessary equipment to turn the living room into the dance party zone: disco balls, lava and glitter lamps, a thing that shines different colored lights on the walls and rotates. My husband's prized 1980's stereo with giant speakers provided the music. At about 9:30 one of the girls reclined in The Red Chair with her root beer and extolled the wonders of this "the best party ever".
Between the cleaning, decorating, baking, dog catching, chaperoning and assorted other chores, I slept a good deal of the next day. I still had time to get in a couple of runs to the horse farm to finish top dressing all of the trees planted in the last two years, just in time for the new ones to arrive, just in time for the weekly six inches of snow. By looking at my photos from last year, our second and final snow was on March 25th and by April 9th the flowers in the garden and yard were starting to bloom. I'm ready.
I've been too busy with other activities to do things like garden and whine about the weather. My daughter turned 12 this past week, and with the birthday comes the inevitable slumber party. I use the event as a way to kick myself in the behind to get some house cleaning done, despite the fact that I could name a few thousand productive things that I would prefer doing. After a week of mopping, polishing, sorting, organizing, recycling and tossing, I then commenced baking, decorating and other hostess-y things.
About an hour and a half before the first guests were set to arrive and I was frosting the chocolate cake, the chickens made distressing noises by the kitchen window, Paisley flew up past the glass in a panic. I rushed outside to find my neighbor's hugely overweight lab/pit mix, not quite a year old puppy trying to pounce on the girls. Ursula cut out from the rest and he pursued, she found the gap in the garden fence and lost him for a moment, but then found herself cornered. I sprinted out, coated with confectioner's sugar, and threw myself in between the two. Shrieking at the top of my lungs, hoping my neighbor would hear me. I kept telling the dog, "No!" and he would back off a bit, but he seemed mesmerized by what he perceived as giant, fluffy dog toys and seemed compelled to go back. He didn't have a collar on, there was no handle to hold. I tried and tried to hold him, but he kept slipping from my grip. He pounced again and Ursula dodged, I snagged her, kneed the dog and sprinted to the coop. Locked her in and the dog was on to seek out the next chicken. My daughter came out of the house having heard me shouting. "No, Nooooo, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", wearing socks, but no shoes, and tried to round up the others, but he just followed her and she didn't want to expose them, but we didn't want them out any more. She kept his attention on the back steps while I ran for one of the leashes that groomers use. He let me put it on and didn't seem to mind and then whoosh, it was off and he was off. I chased and caught him again and looped it again, but his neck was just as fat as his head and he slipped it again. I did this several more times, until I decided to tie the leash around his neck. The whole time I was bellowing, "Where the H*ll is your owner?" We got him to his owner when he called him, I was asking him to keep the dog in his yard, as my daughter went back to round up the rest of the chickens, Only to have Tank (the dog) escape again, he wouldn't come when his owner called. He chased Paisley around the house as my daughter gave chase, shrieked and pushed him away--she probably weighs about the same as Tank, about 100lbs. Paisley, smart girl, ran under the quince bush. The dog pursued, but then discovered quince thorns and hopped around the perimeter. In the mean time, I sprinted from the neighbor's yard, through the woods then across our yard to the quince bush, captured the evasive chicken, kneed the dog again and blasted over to the coop with the dog in hot pursuit, I slammed and latched the door right as his nose arrived. He took off to find the other chickens, our neighbor, citing knee surgeries, was just now arriving in our back yard. We finally were able to send Tank home, with a promise that he would either be on a lead or in the fence in the future and that he will wear his collar. We gathered up the Buffs and put everyone in the run, with snacks and water. Then my daughter and I had a good cry,straightened ourselves out and finished the preparations for her party. I felt like I had used ever shred of energy available chasing and fighting off the dog. The dog never seemed vicious, he had a goofy look on his face the entire time, listened to me, sometimes, and leaned up next to me for a pat when I put the leash on him. He just seemed compelled by some force to pounce on the chickens.
Just writing all this has been exhausting, If I hadn't been in reasonable shape, we wouldn't have chickens anymore, there's no way in my old shape I could have done what I did.
An hour or so later, the cake frosted...the girls came, then ran around outside in the dark playing flashlight tag ( I don't know the rules, darkness, flashlights, shrieking and giggling are all required) for a couple of hours waiting for the late comers. After that, they did the annual treasure hunt, per request of the birthday girl. They followed my riddles around the entire yard until they found this year's treasure, matching t-shirts and glow-in-the-dark fabric paint. One was disappointed that it wasn't candy like last year, though the candy was set out on the snack table, I guess it is the joy of discovery. Halfway through the hunt they discovered one can of silly string for each kid, of course, the obvious occurred. My daughter realized the next day why adults have some reservations about silly string, as she picked most of it out of the lawn, so that the chickens wouldn't eat it. (It appears that they don't even sense it, they walk right past, but who knew that?)
A friend lent me all the necessary equipment to turn the living room into the dance party zone: disco balls, lava and glitter lamps, a thing that shines different colored lights on the walls and rotates. My husband's prized 1980's stereo with giant speakers provided the music. At about 9:30 one of the girls reclined in The Red Chair with her root beer and extolled the wonders of this "the best party ever".
Between the cleaning, decorating, baking, dog catching, chaperoning and assorted other chores, I slept a good deal of the next day. I still had time to get in a couple of runs to the horse farm to finish top dressing all of the trees planted in the last two years, just in time for the new ones to arrive, just in time for the weekly six inches of snow. By looking at my photos from last year, our second and final snow was on March 25th and by April 9th the flowers in the garden and yard were starting to bloom. I'm ready.
Monday, March 3, 2014
The Big Cardboard Box
Folks at the sculpture garden knew that I was interested in a big, thick box that was hanging around in storage. It had been saved for some important purpose, but no one could seem to remember what it was, so they offered it to me. It is for my garden, of course. The weather having been dry and moderately cold, but not too cold, so I decided to attempt a garden expansion on Saturday.
Cardboard is cheaper than weed cloth and will biodegrade into the soil, and it is so thick that it will last a long time. I unfolded the box and overlapped the edge with the raised bed I created last year. The chickens have removed most of the straw mulch in their search for bugs and seeds.
I then headed over to the horse rescue to get the necessary materials to make the raised bed.
To answer the question you are thinking, it smells like soil, it looks like soil... A car load of manure doesn't look like all that much, but it is heavy. The hood of the car points a bit higher once it is all loaded and I joke about driving a low rider. (a song that my daughter plays in band)
It took two loads to cover it reasonably well and a little bit more might be needed.
All of it is now (Monday) coated with two inches of snow and a bit of ice, with lots more snow expected in the next few hours.
The seedlings are doing well under the lights, when the winter decides that it is done, they will be ready.
It is time to thin and fertilize them with a little fish emulsion, it is a good thing they are in the garage, that stuff is much more pungent than the manure ever is.
The trees and bushes we ordered will be arriving within a few weeks!
___________
My stress over the Bay Bridge was unnecessary, there were about three cars on the bridge and virtually no wind. It was the easiest ride over that thing ever, despite the snowflakes!
Fruit School (that's what the Extension office calls it) was interesting, it was great to find out more about the stink bugs, especially since there is supposedly some news of a bit of a die off due to the cold temperatures, but we will find out for sure in September, their boom season. The frustrating part of the lectures was one speaker had a slide presentation that included material he had presented to the group the previous year, which he flicked through to get to this year's materials, but I really was more interested in the presentation he did last year than this year. I hear that they are all posted on-line, I'm going to have to find it.
One thing I had never thought about was brought up, conventional farmers spray antibiotics on plants to kill certain diseases, I always thought about animals with antibiotics, not plants. Hmmmmmmmmm.
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| The box, folded in half. |
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| The girls helped me line it up with last year's garden bed. |
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| XB all loaded. |
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| One carload dumped onto the cardboard. |
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| The girls inspected the two loads of manure. |
The seedlings are doing well under the lights, when the winter decides that it is done, they will be ready.
The trees and bushes we ordered will be arriving within a few weeks!
___________
My stress over the Bay Bridge was unnecessary, there were about three cars on the bridge and virtually no wind. It was the easiest ride over that thing ever, despite the snowflakes!
Fruit School (that's what the Extension office calls it) was interesting, it was great to find out more about the stink bugs, especially since there is supposedly some news of a bit of a die off due to the cold temperatures, but we will find out for sure in September, their boom season. The frustrating part of the lectures was one speaker had a slide presentation that included material he had presented to the group the previous year, which he flicked through to get to this year's materials, but I really was more interested in the presentation he did last year than this year. I hear that they are all posted on-line, I'm going to have to find it.
One thing I had never thought about was brought up, conventional farmers spray antibiotics on plants to kill certain diseases, I always thought about animals with antibiotics, not plants. Hmmmmmmmmm.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Copper trees, Stink Bugs, The Bay Bridge and The Holy Grail--Is that Random Enough?
The weather has been teasing us, it has been warm, even sunny. I drove with my windows open a little yesterday, but winter will win again. Maybe a bit of snow tonight and a some more on Tuesday into Wednesday. Spring is peeking through the blinds, but hasn't come in yet.
Despite the glorious weather, I had an indoor activity planned for yesterday. I took an art class with a local wire sculptor, Devin Mack. The first time I met him a year ago, I watched him create part of a large, detailed sculpture of a female trapeze artist while hardly even glancing at his hands. He stood staring at some place in his brain and bent each piece into place. The spine and ribcage emerged as I watched, completely recognizable as human.
I just took a moment to look to see what he has on-line, and I found a time lapse video of him making The Aerialist at AnnMarie Sculpture Garden. I wasn't aware he was being photographed, and lo and behold thirty seconds into the video I appear for two seconds, wearing the same polar fleece I am wearing right now. At Devin Mack's Website you can watch him create the trapeze artist without him having to consult any reference or drawing.
Anyway, my point in all this is that I took the class and somehow ended up seated between two others who also volunteer at the sculpture garden, whom I had seen, but never really met. They both like to write, they are both into gardening and art and when a classmate referred to her progress creating a wire tree she referred to it as a shrubbery and the three of us giggled and started talking about Roger the Shrubberer, and how we were "getting better" and "going for a walk" (Monty Python and the Holy Grail references, for the uninitiated). I thought I had been transported back to high school for a moment or two.
My tree sculpture from the class isn't quite finished, it needs a bit more crimping on the ends and balancing of the branches, but here it is.
Speaking of trees, later this week I will be taking a class on growing fruit in the Chesapeake Bay area. The class not going to be much like the art class, more of a series of lectures with me scribbling notes furiously. There is one section on beach plums which will come in handy when my trees/bushes arrive in a few weeks. After listening to so many people moan about how hard it is to grow stone fruit here, the section on variety selection for the area will either tell us that we have selected well or rather badly. The segment on brown marmorated stinkbugs (Maryland's imported version of cockroaches and Japanese beetles combined, as far as I'm concerned) may also prove to be useful. The nasty little things suck on fruit and mess it up and invade my kitchen as insectoid kamikazes sometimes diving at the lights, sometimes our heads. They do provide the a bit of entertainment as the cats bobble and hop about to chase and eat them. They don't seem to mind the taste. The big, tough, hunting dog barks at the bugs then pounces and eats them, which is on par with the rest of her hunting skills.
They are predicting snow the day of the class, which won't be fun since to get to there I will have to cross the Bay Bridge, which is on the list of the scariest bridges in the US. It is like being on a road suspended high in the air by nothing, you see nothing off the sides, just a jersey barrier and then nothing (for five miles), add wind, heavy traffic, and crazy, aggressive drivers trying to make the experience as short as possible by driving as fast as possible, and it makes for an all too memorable experience. I'd rather drive the George Washington Bridge in NYC on a Friday night, in the rain/sleet (like I did last December) than take this one on a sunny day.
The chickens are blissfully ignorant of the coming snow, they are scratching in the flower bed, exposing the just beginning to sprout daffodils. They have become much more productive now that the weather has improved. I was able to take a frittata to a potluck yesterday that contained fifteen eggs with a few eggs left over and then found three more this morning, one still warm. Time to to check behind the hedges to see if there are any that I have missed...
Despite the glorious weather, I had an indoor activity planned for yesterday. I took an art class with a local wire sculptor, Devin Mack. The first time I met him a year ago, I watched him create part of a large, detailed sculpture of a female trapeze artist while hardly even glancing at his hands. He stood staring at some place in his brain and bent each piece into place. The spine and ribcage emerged as I watched, completely recognizable as human.
I just took a moment to look to see what he has on-line, and I found a time lapse video of him making The Aerialist at AnnMarie Sculpture Garden. I wasn't aware he was being photographed, and lo and behold thirty seconds into the video I appear for two seconds, wearing the same polar fleece I am wearing right now. At Devin Mack's Website you can watch him create the trapeze artist without him having to consult any reference or drawing.
 |
| Winter Tree, 20 gauge copper wire sculpture |
My tree sculpture from the class isn't quite finished, it needs a bit more crimping on the ends and balancing of the branches, but here it is.
 | |
| Bug Hunters in Repose |
They are predicting snow the day of the class, which won't be fun since to get to there I will have to cross the Bay Bridge, which is on the list of the scariest bridges in the US. It is like being on a road suspended high in the air by nothing, you see nothing off the sides, just a jersey barrier and then nothing (for five miles), add wind, heavy traffic, and crazy, aggressive drivers trying to make the experience as short as possible by driving as fast as possible, and it makes for an all too memorable experience. I'd rather drive the George Washington Bridge in NYC on a Friday night, in the rain/sleet (like I did last December) than take this one on a sunny day.
The chickens are blissfully ignorant of the coming snow, they are scratching in the flower bed, exposing the just beginning to sprout daffodils. They have become much more productive now that the weather has improved. I was able to take a frittata to a potluck yesterday that contained fifteen eggs with a few eggs left over and then found three more this morning, one still warm. Time to to check behind the hedges to see if there are any that I have missed...
Monday, February 17, 2014
Bonfires of Spring
We aren't big on statuary, but we do have the pensive frog in the flower garden, that paired with the watering can that was left out before the snow (used to water the tender plants living in the garage for the winter). It seems frozen in place, waiting for the predicted two inches of wintery mix due to fall from the sky in the dark of the night. It's just in time for school to start up again, after the long, snow-extended holiday weekend. The very good news is that it is supposed to reach the low sixties by the end of the week!! Spring is coming! Athena will be pleased.
Today is a glorious winter day, clear, bright, cold, but not too cold, light breeze. My husband and I each spent a bit of time pruning the fruit trees. He handled the major surgery on the established trees and I pruned the little ones that we have planted in the past two years. Last year he seriously hacked at the pear tree and then realized that he still hadn't gone far enough, so he is at it again. We probably won't see pears again for two more years, but the tree has been shaped properly, so that it can grow into a nice old tree someday.It was nice to get outside and do something productive.
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| Close up of one row of woodpecker holes. |
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| Row upon row of woodpecker holes all the way up the trunk of the crab apple. |
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| Rose of Sharon-bird/bug damage. |
Bonfire. Our yard. Bummer. It is so beautiful.
Discussions have begun as to what should be planted in that space, something beautiful and fruitful, Asian pears and persimmons have been mentioned, but no decisions yet. Any recommendations?
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Sprouts
There is a purring fluffy, charcoal gray cat in my lap (not on the keyboard, finally) and a buff tabby on my polar fleece three feet away, the pellet stove is roaring, seven inches of heavy slushy snow is on half of the driveway (this afternoon's project), and I'm sitting here in my thermals and sweats obsessing about gardening.
The sprouts are up, except for the broccoli raab, which was the newest seed.
They are under the fluorescent lights in the garage getting used to the chill, now I just need to keep them alive until they have a couple sets of leaves and the ground defrosts.
Time to make the pizza dough for dinner...
The sprouts are up, except for the broccoli raab, which was the newest seed.
They are under the fluorescent lights in the garage getting used to the chill, now I just need to keep them alive until they have a couple sets of leaves and the ground defrosts.
Time to make the pizza dough for dinner...
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Snow, Ice and Seedlings
Somehow it is still winter. We had a few warmish days and then we were sent straight back to the teens again. I'm anticipating that the schools will be closed for tomorrow due to the snow and ice storm headed our way, I must check our inventory of hot chocolate and prep some cookies. I'm sure that the sleds will be out and there will be lots of wet mittens and gloves tomorrow.
Despite the wet and cold, I look to spring. My big box of seeds has emerged from the closet and I have given it a good clean out, anything dated before 2010 is gone, but that still leaves quite a lot. I generally don't plant a whole packet of most things, so I have a bit of everything left each year. If anyone local needs veggie seeds--don't buy any until you check with me, I might have half a packet leftover from the last couple of years. The seed marketing folks don't want you to believe that seeds can be good for several years, but they are, there may be a few more duds each year, but most are still good.
I looked back over my notes for my garden last year and realized that I put out my cool season greens waaaaaaaaaaay too late, which may be why they were ravaged by bugs and slugs. So, knowing this, I pulled out my seedling heat mat on Monday, and the mini-greenhouses and dove into the cool season vegetable world. Kale (2 kinds), collards, broccoli, broccoli raab, mustard spinach (Komatsuna), Swiss chard (2 kinds), Chinese cabbage (for kimchi!!!) and two types of bok choy seeds went into the seed starting mix. As of this morning, less than 48 hours later, there are many germinating seeds just popping to the surface. I'll be firing up the plant lights in the garage tomorrow. In about two weeks, I'll plant a bit more broccoli and broccoli raab.
Despite the cold, I have been back to the horse rescue shoveling manure into tubs to haul home. The top two inches are frozen, but after I break through the crust everything is shovel-able. I've extended my long narrow front garden another five feet and will widen it when the daytime temps hover closer to the mid-thirties. My husband, the plant doctor, says that he has been getting e-mails at work predicting more dry weather in California this year, which would cause much higher vegetable and agricultural product prices because of poor harvests. He is encouraging me to keep the back garden because of this. If he helps weed and water, I'm all for it.
It's time to pull out the wire fencing and leather gloves to fashion critter resistant cages, the battle with the squirrels and bunnies last year destroyed any hopes I have for ever raising uncaged okra, cantaloupes or cucumbers. I'd put the cukes in and within a few hours the squirrels would have them uprooted, I'd put them in again and they would repeat the process until the plants died and I gave up. They didn't mess with the pumpkins or watermelons though. The cantaloupes and okra would be nice little seedlings with a few leaves in the morning and by afternoon they would be merely a tiny piece of stem extending slightly above the ground. I'd replant and you know the story.
So, I'm off to get organized for the sledding, shoveling and pre-season gardening!
Despite the wet and cold, I look to spring. My big box of seeds has emerged from the closet and I have given it a good clean out, anything dated before 2010 is gone, but that still leaves quite a lot. I generally don't plant a whole packet of most things, so I have a bit of everything left each year. If anyone local needs veggie seeds--don't buy any until you check with me, I might have half a packet leftover from the last couple of years. The seed marketing folks don't want you to believe that seeds can be good for several years, but they are, there may be a few more duds each year, but most are still good.
 |
| The seed box, before editing. |
I looked back over my notes for my garden last year and realized that I put out my cool season greens waaaaaaaaaaay too late, which may be why they were ravaged by bugs and slugs. So, knowing this, I pulled out my seedling heat mat on Monday, and the mini-greenhouses and dove into the cool season vegetable world. Kale (2 kinds), collards, broccoli, broccoli raab, mustard spinach (Komatsuna), Swiss chard (2 kinds), Chinese cabbage (for kimchi!!!) and two types of bok choy seeds went into the seed starting mix. As of this morning, less than 48 hours later, there are many germinating seeds just popping to the surface. I'll be firing up the plant lights in the garage tomorrow. In about two weeks, I'll plant a bit more broccoli and broccoli raab.
 |
| Seedlings to be (I hope) |
Despite the cold, I have been back to the horse rescue shoveling manure into tubs to haul home. The top two inches are frozen, but after I break through the crust everything is shovel-able. I've extended my long narrow front garden another five feet and will widen it when the daytime temps hover closer to the mid-thirties. My husband, the plant doctor, says that he has been getting e-mails at work predicting more dry weather in California this year, which would cause much higher vegetable and agricultural product prices because of poor harvests. He is encouraging me to keep the back garden because of this. If he helps weed and water, I'm all for it.
It's time to pull out the wire fencing and leather gloves to fashion critter resistant cages, the battle with the squirrels and bunnies last year destroyed any hopes I have for ever raising uncaged okra, cantaloupes or cucumbers. I'd put the cukes in and within a few hours the squirrels would have them uprooted, I'd put them in again and they would repeat the process until the plants died and I gave up. They didn't mess with the pumpkins or watermelons though. The cantaloupes and okra would be nice little seedlings with a few leaves in the morning and by afternoon they would be merely a tiny piece of stem extending slightly above the ground. I'd replant and you know the story.
So, I'm off to get organized for the sledding, shoveling and pre-season gardening!
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