Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
Fact: Instead of working, I spent all day long in the garden yesterday.
That's that thing about gardens, and May. You leave for two days and suddenly, magically end up behind on everything. There were paths to mulch and seeds to plant, rows to fill in and seedlings to thin and beds to prepare for tomatoes. Dandelions, always, to dig out of the edges.
Things are looking good out there. I've had some struggles with germination this season, which could be because I seriously jumped the gun on some of my plantings, or it could be because I'm using a different, cheaper brand of seed for many things. (Really, there are some places where one just shouldn't cut corners, and I'm beginning to think seed is one of those...) Regardless, it is early May, and I am pretty pleased. I have two-inch-tall peas, and little spinaches and lettuces and radishes and arugulas and kales. I have a nice armada of broccoli seedlings beginning to realize the joys of the horse manure I worked in around their toes. We're just coming off a considerable dry spell-- eight long days with absolutely nothing-- and I'm thrilled delighted ecstatic to see a reasonably good chance of rain for the next five days. We need it.
Also, I have leek sets my neighbor and fellow obsessive gardener Dave gave me, and four twenty-five cent packets of wildflower seeds to sow, and nasturtium and fennel seeds to sow too, and we ate our first Strain Estate asparagus Monday night.