As I write this week, I'm sitting in an airport on my way to a conference for my "day job". Although the conference should be interesting, I will miss my family and my "critters"; my dog, Ellie, and my hens who have no name, except for the New Hampshire Reds which are collectively called "Lucy". The conference couldn't come at a worse time for my "real job", that is, my market garden. If I were at home this week instead of at the conference, I would be working with Martin to complete the high tunnel, tilling the area where I will be planting peas, and starting more seeds indoors.
The celery seeds I planted a couple of weeks ago are slowly germinating, with one or two small, spindly plants per pot. The lettuce and broccoli I started a couple of days ago are already sprouting, seeming much stronger and more vigorous than the celery. The under-cabinet fluorescent light that shines on them as they sit on my kitchen countertop is probably not bright enough to give them a good start. I’m thinking I’ll have to set up some sort of makeshift cold frame on the south side of the barn in order to give them some warm spring sun and protection from the wind and the chickens. After all, I don’t have any more room left on my kitchen counter, and I have LOTS more seeds to start!
During the short, cold days of winter, spring seems to take forever to arrive. Once it’s here, everything seems to be in a rush. Seeds rushing to sprout, and us rushing to get things ready for them; everyone rushing to enjoy the first warm sunny days. I’m looking forward to the extra daylight in the evenings once daylight savings time is here.
Standing inside the new high-tunnel-in-progress, as I looked up, the arches seemed like a whale skeleton around me. This garden sometimes seems to me like I’ve hooked a whale on 10-lb test fishing line. I’m excited, scared, and I feel like I’m in way over my head. I’ll just have to learn to take things as they come, one day at a time.
Keep your head above the water,