Since all the snow melted about two weeks ago, I've made periodic pilgrimages to the garlic garden beds in the front yard. Looking for any signs of germination, I observed that I didn't put enough mulch in the beds. Several of the cloves had been pushed entirely out of the soil from frost.
This is the first spring in several years I didn't conduct some type of experiment to try and get fresh food to the table as early as possible. My only prep work was to buy seeds and a bag of potting soil.
There were two reasons little had been done to force an early harvest. One was somewhere along the line, I lost track of time. This winter and early spring, which was polar vortex cold, gave me a case of amnesia that spring would never arrive. At some point in March I felt an overwhelming sense of futility to start anything under grow lights, which I did last year. Despite all the record lows, frost, and stubborn snow, spring did occur the first week of April.
The second factor was that I needed to move the seed starting operation from the dining room to the basement - and it seems I am very lazy. The move wasn't because of the mess I created from overwatering and having the steady florescent light beam in the dining room constantly, but because our beloved old cat, who was unable to climb, had passed away. A young more curious and nimble cat, who seems to be able to climb a wall, is now on the prowl. I contemplated moving the seed starting operation into the basement, but I was frozen from action, much like most of everything else outside the house.
Consequently, I feel as though I am a little behind schedule. This is the absurd thinking that all the world is a race. While gardeners and farmers extol the ability to force early harvests, especially tomatoes, I am content to let everything arrive this year when it does. And really, what choice do I have? I didn't do the work ahead of time.
While I may feel behind schedule, I'm right on time.
Yesterday was one of the most pleasurable days I've had since the vacation Teresa and I had in Maine in late August. Like a kid whose been given permission to play in the dirt, I put on my work gloves and turned the compost pile of leaves that I had taken from the surrounding neighborhoods a year and a half ago. The large paper bags and their contents had largely broken down into a beautiful black crumbly soil. The sweet smell of wet compost that exuded from the pile smelled as appetizing as the aroma of chocolate cake baking.
I pulled the plastic cover of my unsuccessful fall hoop house pack to find that peas, spinach, radishes, kale, and onions appeared to be sprouting.
Turning over one bed that measures 3'x10' and working in several wheelbarrows full of compost, I kneeled down and planted about 75 onion sets from Dixondale Farms.
Another wheelbarrow full of compost when to help the garlic that had sprouted but was in clear need of additional soil shelter.
Finally, I added potting soil to nine pots - astro arugula (High Mowing), dill, parsley, and High Mowing Seeds Mild Mix. The goal in mind here is to have small weekly plantings of greens so that they are ready weekly, instead of my usual habit of emptying a seed packet into a bed and have more lettuce than even the rabbits can handle.
A decent watering with Neptune's Harvest Organic will get everything off to a good start.
A few Advil, a cold glass of water, and a lot of gratitude as I relaxed into Sunday evening - as though I am once again waking.
