Oh, Hail!: A Photostory

 

The Seed is in the Ground

The seed is in the ground.
Now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work.

-Wendell Berry

Gardening in the snow

There is only one logical thing to do when it's springtime, but the garden is still frozen and the snow is still falling.

You plant seeds.  One seed for each cell of an empty egg carton: celery, tomatoes, Brussels sprouts, ground cherries, marigolds, eggplant.

We make a place for birds to sing/ in time to come -Wendell Berry

Goodbye, garden

Hello, root cellar?

Okay... I can't take credit for the popcorn. 

Okay, not quite.  First off, this room is much too warm and dry to be a true root cellar.  Furthermore, it wouldn't be prudent to store jars in a damp place.  However, with a few modifications, such as adding a second door, insulating the inside walls, scooting the shelves out a couple of inches, and installing an air-intake pipe for ventilation, this room would be well on it's way to becoming a root cellar.

Funny that I know this kind of stuff.  Seems I've recently become obsessed with root cellars after reading this book: 

 My husband says this obsession makes me weird. My father says I was born three generations too late. I'd probably agree with both of them.  But how cool would it be to fill this basement storage room with bushels of apples, pounds of potatoes, heads of cabbage, and crates of carrots? Or is it just me?

How I've spent my summer vacation

If everything at the store came in such pretty jars as these, I'd be tempted to buy more canned foods.  Alas, since they insist on covering the beauty with ugly screaming labels, I'll just have to keep making my own!

 

 

From left: peach jam, kosher dills, chunky applesauce,
spaghetti sauce, plums, pear halves, pickled beets

Great Big Gobs

Generally, I'm fond of all things living.  I cringe when I have to kill an earwig, as creepy as they are.  I smile as the young calves frolic in the pasture behind the house, and sigh at the thought of eating them after a year of growth. 

But yesterday, I bought traps.  Vicious two-teethed traps designed to spring into action at the slightest trip.  Indeed, these things will probably rip a small creature in half, or break the leg of a dog- and I'm okay with that, even if that creature is somewhat cute.

Greasy, grimy, gopher. . . guts.

That creature is destroying my garden.  That creature is going to eat the roots of all my beans, tomatoes, and cucumbers; and they've only just begun to set fruit.

So I bought traps, and I learned how to set them.  I will put them in those nasty gopher holes, and I will flush the thing out with water.  Should I choose to come a hole that has no trap, I will be waiting with a shovel. 

More seeds

In a moment of self-doubt, I planted more seeds.  Figuring I had killed off my germinating tomato seeds after forgetting to water them for a day or two, I decided I better plant some back-ups.  Exactly two days after I planted the second batch, the first batch started sprouting.  

I started twelve more tomatoes, and four more ground cherries. For those of you doing the math, that's twenty-eight tomatoes and eight ground cherries all together. If I'm doing my math correctly, that's about eighteen more tomato plants and four more ground cherry plants than I'll need.


Hopefully mason jars go on sale soon, because I'm going to need quite a few more for all the tomatoes I could be canning this summer.  Provided, of course, that the little plants do as well in the garden as they have on my kitchen floor.

Sounds like an idea for a 1960's horror flick. 

Seed catalogues make me drool

In an effort to ignore all the snow I've seen in the last two weeks, I've planted seeds.  132 of them, to be exact.  One seed for each pod of an egg carton.  Mostly marigolds, but also several tomatoes, and a few ground cherries. 

I've also planned my garden plots, ordered (more) seeds, and started thinking about gathering all the recipes for all the canning I'll be doing this summer. 

Next week, I'll be building a trellis for peas, and sowing carrots.  Loads of carrots.