Out of Control!

Everything is big. Big babies, big weeds. The babies need to go into the ground and the weeds need to come out.

Big Baby Yellow Squash (& More Tomatoes)
Overgrown Bell Peppers
Peppers, Pumpkins, Eggplant & Basil
Tomatoes and Weeds
Swiss Chard and Weeds
Snow Peas (that need picking) and Weeds
Okra (that needs to be thinned) and Weeds

(Notice all the noodly worm things everywhere. Those are from the pecan tree that overhangs the garden.)

But it’s just too damn hot to do anything and I spent Mother’s Day napping and reading and eating and chatting with the family. The only gardening that happened was planting more seeds (blush).

But they were flower seeds my kids put in my new hand painted mother’s day pots, okay?! (And some black pepper seeds that my dad sent me, wanting a second person to try because he thinks it’s his karma preventing them from germinating for him because my brother is presently not speaking to my father and my brother is the one who introduced him to those peppers. But really the seeds smell musty and look dark.)

But anyway– we have tomato blossoms!

Advertisements

Only the Brave

To invest in something – your money, your time, your learning, your effort and care – and then to take risks with it, is either stupid or brave or maybe it’s science. Well whatever it is, it happens every single go-round with this gardening thing.  

You do your research, plan your steps, make your purchases, set it all up for success. But once you actually begin and cross that threshold, shit happens. It’s inevitable and so therefore is the risk factor. What to do now? Something or nothing?  It’s a risk either way. And so here you are: weeks into a project where time really matters, staring into the face of a likely failure that could definitely affect everything going forward into the season.

Gardening is not for the faint of heart.

If you gardened your whole adult life, from the time you are 25 to the time you are 75, you would only get 50 practice runs. Imagine that in the context of a musician or an athlete. Nobody would be any good. So here we are, the make it or break it lot, the do or die bunch, the “eh fuck it, there’s always next year” sort. 

There will be failure, death (of the plant sort), trial and oh-so-much error. It’s just how it goes. In order to do it, you have to be willing to lose what you’ve worked for because chances are pretty good that you may.

So here I am. Brave woman. Disturbing roots and replanting seedlings deeply. Hoping my Chinese Cabbage doesn’t immediately bolt when I put it into the garden (I read that was a thing). Hoping my skinny leggy mustard greens and bok choy don’t rot when I bury them better.

I don’t think these floppy guys could continue like this

20170115_165209.jpg

But truth be told, I’ve never had any problems with transplanting anything. The good broccoli plants I have now (that did survive the ice and snow, by the way) were initially leggy newborns that I re-planted up to their scrawny necks. So maybe I’m not that risky and brave. Maybe I have a bit of experience on my side. Either way, this old lady gets a feeling that teeters between exhilaration and terror during these dealings. 

_______________

To elaborate on the ice/snow storm frozen broccoli/brussels outcome, we have some burned leaves but that seems to be it. Maybe the ice coating protected my green babies, but we got down to 12 degrees F two nights in a row and everything survived.

(Notice how healthy and green the weeds look. Wtf.)

_______________

Back to my present endeavors.

Three trays now hold various brassicas, herbs, and flowers. Here’s what I’ve got going so far:

20170115_170302.jpg

dsc06167.jpg

And here is their normal home:

My basement “greenhouse”

I was working with two lights initially and just added the other three a few days ago.  Hopefully it helps with future legginess because I estimate having three more 50 cell trays before spring comes.

_______________

Here Come the Dinosaurs!

20170115_165442.jpg