more seedy thoughts

Speaking of growing things, I'm almost positive that I've got all my flower and vegetable seeds for Gardens 2023.  My two favorite varieties of pole bean don't seem to be available anywhere, so I'm going to be trying a yellow romano-type pole bean, and will also plant a lot of the filet pole bean seeds that I've saved from years past. Fingers crossed there'll be some success there, as beans are one crop I've had very good luck with almost every year.

sample of Gardening Plans 2023

Doing more gardening with less leaning has become increasingly important, and after pricing lumber to build a couple of new raised beds last Autumn, I ordered two metal raised beds. You've probably seen these advertised, as I think they are becoming increasingly popular: modular, powder-coated, corrugated tubs. Mine are Birdies brand from Australia, and a brief 20% discount for followers of an Australian YouTube gardening channel clinched my decision. I've assembled them and now it's a matter of placement, which is turning out to be tricky. Finding spots with adequate light is always a challenge here, and these tubs are not going to be moveable - at least not without a lot of work - so I need to choose carefully. Also, one totally unforeseen factor is that big metal tubs - even pretty, pale green ones - are very, very noticeable in my comfortably wildish landscape. I think my Occasional Helper used the term "comparatively industrial." I can think of places to put them where they would look quite nice (such as next to the house) but would not have enough light, and I can think of places to put them where they might have enough light but would be almost jarring to the eye. An odd problem! They will probably look more at home once things are growing in and around them, and will likely become cherished components of the gardening scheme here. But at the moment, the decision of where to put them is proving quite a challenge. Could you all just come by, take a look around, and give me your opinions? Thanks very much!

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milkweed constellation

Despite the wildly ranging temperatures lately, February is recognizable by it's mucky, grey days interspersed with spirit-lifting glimpses of brilliant blue skies.

And right on seasonal schedule, my thoughts have turned to seeds.

Do you remember my efforts to establish milkweed stands for Monarch butterflies? A couple of years ago, I thought the population was secure: a small stand by the barn and two more below the terrace garden. There was an actual row of Monarch chrysalides dotted along the top of a garden fence by the barn, and two more in other locations. Success! I thought my work was done.

I was wrong.

For some reason, in 2021 and again in 2022 there was less milkweed growing and almost none of it blooming. Last year I saw a Monarch butterfly only twice all summer, which may have been the same individual. And I never saw a single chrysalis.

So it's back to trying to increase the milkweed population. My usual method is to do this in Autumn, when the dry pods are already releasing seed. I just wait for a day with a light breeze, stand upwind from areas where I think milkweed has a chance of doing well, and release seed little by little to float and land where it will.

But last Autumn, the only two pods I saw didn't have much of a chance to dry and I began to wonder if the seed would rot before it had a chance to mature and disperse. So when I finally saw each pod split open slightly, I took a pinch of still-compressed seeds, hoping they were viable, and put them in a paper bag to dry. Yesterday I opened the bag.

 

It's not a lot of seed, as you see:

I'll probably plant it directly, but if anyone has experience with planting milkweed and thinks starting it in a tray and then transplanting would be better, I'll give that a go. Please share your advice in the comments!

Apparently swamp milkweed is also valuable to Monarchs, so I bought a packet of seed to plant down in the tiny wetland where the marsh marigolds bloom every Spring. Another experiment.

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markmaking

 From -14F a few days ago to a forecast in the 40s later this week.

Maybe it will be nice weather for outdoor sketching.

I don't expect to see any leafy shrubs or poppies or sprouting crocus bulbs out there,

but there's always something to sketch.

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right now

 14F. Perfect for crossing the threshold into February.

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soup day

Gloomy skies making for more gloomy photographs, sorry.

I keep checking my laptop to see if the screen brightness is turned down.

It is not.

Snow and more snow. The hay cart has taken a holiday and the hay sled is back in action at last. There's more snow, then a lot more rain, in the forecast. I much prefer snow and it's certainly a lot healthier for the goats, but I suppose we must bloom where we are planted, even if we are planted in mud.

Today is a cooking day, and the cupboard/fridge review has revealed extra-coarse bulgur, chicken broth, carrots, spinach: another kettle of soup in my immediate future. Is soup a big part of your daily fare? Having a constant supply of soup has become one of the best things I can do for myself. I've proven repeatedly - and without even trying to prove it with one of my experiments! - that if there is "real food" on hand that's ready to eat, or ready to reheat and eat, I genuinely prefer to eat that instead of reaching for a snack or something sweet. So keeping my little fridge stocked with pyrex containers of things like soup, chili, cooked veg, or pasta, pretty much guarantees healthy eating most of the time. Whereas no matter how many wonderful ingredients may be waiting in the cupboard, when I come in from evening chores there is a near-zero-percent chance that I will start cooking. So making a big batch of something good once or twice weekly and portioning out for the fridge or freezer makes for a healthier diet. Does it sound like I'm trying to make a virtue of laziness? It does to me, but I'm okay with that.

I don't have a picture of soup but here is a cheerful-looking concoction made in the blender a couple of weeks ago, to use up a big jar of beet slices and half a tub of very tart plain yogurt:

Blended with a little water to thin, and a pinch of baking soda to balance the vinegar-y beets. It was a "waste not want not" endeavor, and I just hoped it would be drinkable. Well. It turned out to be incredibly refreshing, and I have been craving it ever since. Is this a known beverage? I'm wondering if it may turn out to be like my watered-down plain yogurt creation which I'd been drinking for decades before learning it is a traditional Turkish beverage called "ayran."

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