wordless wednesday

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thankful thursday

The rain we've been having.

Whew.

So.Much.Rain.

Some of the vegetables in the garden are struggling with all the moisture. Of course the not-vegetable-plants are having a grand time, as demonstrated by this between-rows photograph:

Despite the weather, and the jungle growing up around them, the pole beans are producing abundantly. And the beans themselves are beautiful - almost all completely flawless, rarely a nibble or a spot, which is not always the case with organic gardening. I am amazed and very grateful.

More bean salad, coming up!

~~~~~

nearly wordless thursday

 the daily snow

 tiny Iris in the wild

Piper going down to check the mail

somewhat surreal

~~~~~

one more charge

I try hard every year to grow as much of my own organic vegetable supply as possible. It is literally a hard row to hoe, and my success rate is never going to result in Piper's picture on the cover of a magazine, sitting proudly beside a picturesque basket of vegetables. But good food is important, and growing it is important to me, and I try.

This year, every gardener I know is in the same situation: say the word "garden" and we sigh and shake our heads. The more demonstrative among us throw our hands into the air while sighing and shaking our heads.

It's been driving me a little bit batty that between May and June's rainy days, only one planting of pole beans had gone in. Nothing more. Even the beans aren't growing well, but have been hanging on.

Meanwhile, here's the rest of the garden:

This riotous jungle obscured even the rows that my Occasional Helper had rough-dug back in May. I knew that if I couldn't reclaim at least those rows and take the stones out and get something planted right away, I might be buying all my vegetables for the next year. So on my task list this past week - when the forecast included three days in a row with a less than 50% chance of rain - was this:

Item 1: Veg Garden. One more charge. Rescue or surrender.

As we surveyed the situation while standing knee-deep in a sea of green, my Occasional Helper said, "Well, a weed-whacker could do it." This had not occurred to me. I know nothing about motorized weed-whacking. And as I was pondering this exciting news, he added, "I have a weed-whacker."

We quickly identified exclusion zones:

the pole beans, a large patch of violets and a small clump of milkweed.

Let the whacking commence!

I began raking up the greenery while it was still fresh, and carrying it up to the herd, although it seemed unlikely they would eat such a mixed slaw. Goats, as long-time Comptonia readers know, are very particular about their food.

And sure enough, although all the goats investigated their salads, not one just reached in for mouthfuls, as a horse or cow might. They nosed it all carefully, then pulled out individual stems or leaves. Much was left uneaten and quickly wilting, so after lugging a couple of big totes up from the garden to the barn paddocks, I decided to leave the rest in place as mulch. I moved on to another task while the whacking continued.

And then, all was quiet.

I walked back down the slope and saw this:

Readers, if I work hard and stick to short-season vegetables, I might just have a garden this year. In with a chance, I call it. And while I was in the garden musing about how rarely in life we have the chance to press the Reset button, my Occasional Helper was up by the house, weed-whacking the Very Raised Bed. And then a little path by the goat barn where I get soaked first thing every morning, walking through wet vegetation. Weed whackers! Who knew? My Occasional Helper, that's who.

So, that was Thursday afternoon.

By Friday morning I had planted:

Suyo cucumbers.

Okra.

Egyptian onions.

Candy roaster squash.

It has already rained twice in less than two days since those seeds were planted. In fact, it's raining right now. But hopefully enough to help seeds germinate; not enough to wash them away or rot them.

And the forecast looks fair for Sunday and Monday,

so I will try to get more seeds in the ground.

Here's hoping!

~~~~~

saturday snaps

Look - it's sunshine!

The air is not grey!

Colors are rich and deep again!

The rain actually stopped Thursday, but the ground was saturated - every footstep left a deep print in mud. Although I'd optimistically planned to plant something - anything! finally! - that day, it was still far too wet.

Even when all the vegetation is dripping wet, Moxie and Della choose to come outside with me. Actually, they aren't really coming "with" me; they would be happy to be running in and out at will, all day long. But I am very concerned about hawks, so if the cats are outside, Piper or I must be out there too. And since Piper takes one good look around and then heads for her secret spot under the porch, her role as hawk-deterrent is negligible. So that just leaves me.

Here they are, my little jungle cats:

Fortunately, yesterday was again not-raining, and the soil had begun to dry a bit. I was finally able to plant two rows of pole beans. Hallelujah!

It looks like one row in this picture, but there is a little aisle between the two sections. The end of the second row is where you see the yellow bucket, which is full of rocks.

All that lush greenery between the garden rows looks pretty good to the goats, who poke their noses through the fence when I'm working. Every time I straighten up, I pull handfuls of greens to share out.

The goats tend to keep moving, though. Rain or shine, the mosquitoes are absolutely horrendous. Despite frequent applications of non-toxic repellent sprays, the goats are covered in itchy bites and so am I. LeShodu, who hates both the bugs and the sprays, spends more time in the barns and less time out browsing than some of the other goats. So today when I came up from the garden, I brought LeShodu a whole hatful of fresh alfalfa, picked seconds before, just for her.

It's the little things, isn't it, Shodu?

~~~

Dear readers, I hope you are all having a lovely weekend, and if you are hiding from mosquitoes or anything else, I hope someone will bring you a hatful of fresh alfalfa.
Or, you know, something equivalent.

~~~~~

lightness

It's been raining and raining. The paddocks are turning into deep, slippery mud, and yesterday I had to turn on lamps at 2PM, the house was so dark. Rain is predicted for three of the next four days.

BUT.

We have turned the corner, if "corner" really applies to something as roundish as the Earth (not quite round but slightly bulging, isn't it?) and it's orbit (not round at all; elliptical). Well gosh, this analogy is certainly getting away from me. Okay, forget "turning the corner." We have somehow - wonderfully, miraculously - moved past the longest night of the year and are now growing "lighter" by the day.

What better way to celebrate than by planning the garden?

This week I received an order from one of my favorite companies, Sow True Seed. They even included a little surprise: pretty envelopes for saving my own seed next year. Nice!

Traditionally, I have waited til the long depths of February to start perusing the seed catalogs. But it felt so right to hold seeds in my hand at the Winter Solstice. I think December is going to be the new tradition.

~~~~~

a bit more gardening

I'm going to try to plant a little something every day.

It may not be possible,

but I will try.

Yesterday I planted a few things at the town plot:

Root crops!!

 And just look at Piper, checking my pea placement:

She is such a stickler for even spacing.

Today I gardened at home;

expanding the fenced area of the terrace garden,

transplanting four butternut squash seedlings,

and putting in a block of sweet corn:

Can't you just taste that sweet corn?

I was determined to get the corn in before the rain began,

so I worked until I sort of fell over,

and finished just before the first drops fell.

Very satisfying.

Now we are expecting two days of rain.

If it's off and on, I may be able to do more planting.

If not, I'll at least do some prepping for related tasks,

because Wednesday I've got a new helper coming

to work with me on gates and fencing for a couple of hours.

But as soon as weather permits, I will be planting:

more seeds!

I'm done buying seeds for the year now, I think.

(I'm pretty sure.)

And as I say goodbye to the Dog Days of August

which came in May this year,

I'd like to share one bit of quite thrilling garden news.

Ready?

Guess what this is:

Or maybe I should say,

guess where  this is...

because this Red Kuri Squash is

the very first planted seed to sprout in the

Very Raised Bed!

Gardening:

the adventure continues.

~~~~~

plotting

Spring (detail)      Jacob Grimmer ca.1525-1590

Garden 2015 is finally underway!

There have already been a couple of nice surprises.

First, I happened to arrive at the feed store

just after they had set out all their plants.

I may have been the first customer to see it. 

Row upon row, table after table,

and not a gap anywhere.

There were a few gaps when I left, though.

I treated myself to perennial flowers.

Not just one or two, as usual, but a dozen!

Some are potential dye plants I've been hoping to find.

Others were unfamiliar, but chosen because

they can tolerate partial shade.

Like this Milky Bellflower: 

The image below clearly demonstrates what gardening is like here.

See that little yarrow plant?

See that pile of rocks?

ALL those rocks came from the hole dug for a 1-quart yarrow.

It's like some kind of freakish twist in the law of nature:

every hole I dig produces a greater volume of stone

than the volume of the hole.

I cannot explain it.

But I live it.

Several plants went into one of my existing garden beds.
But five are in a new spot, along a path
I walk several times each day for chores.

Flowers along the way? A very cheering prospect!

~~~ 

A second surprise:

I was invited to take a plot at the community garden in town.

This idea had never once occurred to me.

I thought community gardens and allotments

were specifically for people who have no land.

(But now that I've typed that...

in this rural town, I'm not sure who those folks could be.)

Then I thought about what a battle it is to garden at my place.

My land is composed almost entirely of stones,

with little bits of rusty soil in between.

And direct sunlight is at a premium;

it's always a challenge to decide what I might squeeze in.

So, maybe I should try adding a garden in town?

After waiting a week in case any landless soul needed the plot -

- there are only 8 in total -

I inquired and found there was one space left.

Already rototilled.

Ha! I still managed to get the only spot with shade!

But just in the morning.

With this extra plot - about 20 by 25 feet -

I suddenly have more options, and much more direct sun.

And for the first time in decades, I can plant root crops.

This is thrilling! I use a lot of root crops.

Yesterday, on the way home
from a doctor's appointment an hour away,

I visited a couple of feed stores and bought a few seeds:

Does that look like a lot?

Am I being too optimistic?

At least I can count on Piper to help with the planting.

Lots of work ahead, but it's an exciting experiment!

So tell me...how does your garden grow?

~~~~~

focus

(Pssst: Looking for the Grow Your Blog post? It's right here.)

~~~

This is how cold it has been lately.

These days, I often remind myself to "focus in."

Keep my mind on little things.

Small, manageable tasks.

Small, quantifiable achievements.

It seems like a good way to stay positive and avoid becoming overwhelmed by...well, anything.

Just before falling asleep,

I try to jot down one thing I've done that day,

that I feel good about.

One day it was finishing some onerous paperwork.

Twice - on two separate days -

it was successfully extricating the little green sportswagon

from a mound of deep snow.

One day last week, it was cooking this squash:

The biggest of the Sow True Seed Pink Jumbo Banana squash

raised as part of the 2014 "Reporter At Large" planting project

hosted by my blogfriend Tipper at Blind Pig and the Acorn.

The three varieties of winter squash I planted in my garden all produced so little and so much later than everyone else's, I was not much use as a reporter! But eventually I harvested a few squash and carefully saved them for Winter.

Which is certainly here.

So.Much.White.

Isn't it time for a little color?

Or a LOT of color?

Isn't this refreshing to the eye?

Everything about cooking this squash -

the weight of it, the colors,

the lovely fresh smell -

reminded me so happily of the garden.

The sun, the rain, the aching back, the sweat.

The magic.

Summer in the garden, August 2014 

Summer in a bowl, February 2015

And nothing was wasted,

which is always satisfying!

The seeds were cleaned and saved

for eating or planting.

The fibrous core was a treat for the hens,

who appreciate fresh vegetables in the winter

as much as I do.

And who always eat organic, even when I do not.

Happily, this time we all did.

And now, it's time to bring out my Deep Winter Survival Strategy:

the 2015 seed catalogs!

I do not even peek at them until February.

We are expecting two more days of snowstorm.

It is definitely time for the seed catalogs.

And a continued focus on little things.

~~~~~

rainy or not

Autumn continues!

Between recent days of rain and strong wind, there has been the welcome gift of dazzling sun. Clever Piper does not waste an opportunity to bask in the doorway of the screenporch, at a comfortable distance above the saturated ground:

On such sunny days, the few remaining garden plants can be pulled up, and either added to one of next year's garden beds or shared out amongst the goats and hens.

Rainy Day Projects have been getting more attention. Some are routine indoor tasks, like housework (seriously necessary at this point, I'm embarrassed to admit), and, more happily, a little more WIPCrackAway knitting:

But some Rainy Day Projects can be tackled in the sheds or barn. Which is nice, because I can't even see the housework from there.

Months ago, I found the tangled pieces of a garden cart at the dump. My plan was simply to salvage the wheels and axle, then take the remaining odds and ends back to the dump. But once home, I realized many of the metal frame pieces were semi-attached. Maybe...I could rebuild an entire cart?

All summer, I've been using a sadly rusted-out wheelbarrow (lined with plastic feedbags, which actually turned out to be fabulous carriers for loose materials going to the VRB!) and postponing the garden cart project, which had all the earmarks of an endeavor that would require multiple unplanned trips to a hardware store and possibly a lumberyard.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to admit that the tangle of parts was a bit intimidating, and rather than waste a lot of time trying (and ultimately failing) to reconstruct something, I should simply bite the bullet and buy a new, heavyduty wheelbarrow.

I wish I had taken this step sooner!

Because...

well, have you bought a wheelbarrow lately?

I looked at a few ordinary wheelbarrows. Nothing special.

The prices averaged two hundred dollars.

For a wheelbarrow.

I didn't even get as far as looking to see if they were made in Not China, which is usually my first step in shopping.

The very next rainy day, I completely dismantled the tangle of garden cart pieces, and started the process of trying to cobble together something useful. I may not succeed, but there is now a pretty strong incentive to try. Here in Goat World, $200 = 40 bales of hay.

Wish me luck!

~~~~~