Early Garden Tricks

I like to plant early--in fact, everything I do I'm in a bit of a rush. I'm actually cutting out coffee for just that reason. Perhaps I could slow down a bit, have a little breathing time. Anyway, if you want to get a jump on spring, don't forget the coldframe. Perhaps it should be called a hotframe. What I mean is, you can put a piece of glass, an old window works well, up against a south facing wall and plant some greens or some radishes, or start something, like lettuce plants. If you block the ends with plastic, you'll get a nice little hothouse and you'll be surprised what happens. If it is against a cement foundation, the cement will heat up. You can put brick against the wall too, they will hold extra heat. Have some fun with this idea. And look at these simple instructions: Building a Garden Cold Frame

Ciao! Flower

Cold Frame, Hot House

Well this could mean a tent you use for a wedding in the garden, and a wedding right now if you could depend on sunshine would be lovely. All the yellow and orange trees, I’m being repetitive I know, but I’m so fond of them. Yesterday I took a drive down Chuckanut Drive with my friend Peter and had a lovely dinner at The Oyster Bar. I actually had oysters, which I love and don’t eat often. On the side came a lovely potato and vegetable serving. The potatoes where mixed with hunks of parsnips, which brings me to the garden and growing parsnips. They’re big and robust and delicious in soup. They look like carrots only yellow. They have the flavor of carrot and celery mixed. Delicious in soup with leeks, parsnip leek soup, oh, sweet on a cold fall day.

As the sun went down over the water and we talked about politics, religion, and …. No we never got to the third thing folks usually argue about, we just chatted away, which seems to be easy between us. The sun going down, a fine wine, great food, and good friend, what could be better?

So my neighbor at the pea patch is putting in rows of tenting for her little lettuce plants and parsley. Which made me think I might do the same. Or at least butild a little lean-to. A little greenhouse thing. I’ve built many cold frames, a rectangle of 2x8s with a window over the top. This could actually work as well for winter as spring. I have kale up and chard growing, it could perk it enough to keep it going all winter—depending on how cold it gets. My cat is getting shaggy already, and he’s an inside cat. What the heck, he’s doing something in the kitchen—I better check.

Okay, he disappeared, which he’s good at. He hears me going and is like a shape-shifter gone from licking the butter, or getting into something on the counter. I hear him again, but guess I’ll let it rest. So, cold frames of bent stacks and plastic, or wood and windows, or even plastic tacked to a house and then draped down over the bed. There was more discussion about deer, and the prints were going through all the newly put-top-bed plots, and then there’s the cover crop: buckwheat will freeze, red clover spreads, seems like winter rye is a favorite. I may try that this year.

Okay, got the grandbaby to do, so I’m off.
Ta ta--Flower

Pearls of Wisdom

Today, a break in the weather, after all day yesterday and last night and this morning, rain, rain, rain. Rain. Yes, liquid sunshine--they joke about around here. But this afternoon, after a rainy cold morning, and a beach walk to see the extreme low tide, almost -4 with lots of purple starfish and a ton of eel grass, I went to the garden. The sun came out after all. I had on a pink top and pearls with my jeans, and shrugged, thinking what the heck, Carrie Bradshaw does it. Well, not the gardening, but the pearls with just lounging around clothes, so why not. No one looked at me sideways, in fact, I got a lot of smiles coming my way. And what is life for anyway, smiles and hugs and lots of good vegetables.

So I dug up a small area today. I have sore shoulders from all the previous digging and thought the strange pain in my armpit was going to command a mammogram, but alas, I figured it out. Shoveling. Yes, digging up the mint patch and the false buttercup and the plantain. When I was young, in my twenties, I read every survival book I could get my hands on. Mint and plantain are good greens to eat. Those and rose hips and rose flowers and new fir sprouts would become part of the survivalists diet. There could be mushrooms and salal berries and blackberries, but I digress, my motive at the time, living off the land. And not a bad idea now. I did it on the mini-farm in the 70s. In the 80s I didn't do so well--but still kept small gardens. Always tomatoes, my first and foremost favorite plant, I have been growing every year, practically since I was in grade school.

So I have two tomato plants in my garden. I'm thinking another might be nice. I have a nice picture of anther community gardeners plot, where the tomatoes were started in the cold frame. I've grown lettuce and radishes and cukes and zucchini in the cold frame, but never tomatoes. What a great idea. It's easy to build a cold frame, just build a bottomless box and if you have an old window from the recycling store, set it on top, or a dome from a sky light. Fab. If I can do it, you can.

So back to pearls. I found two in the oyster I ate with a new friend after a lovely walk on Mother's day. I thought that was a good sign. What do you think? We also saw about 12 eagles. Or was it 10? Another good sign.

An eagle flew over the garden the other day. I pointed it out to my grandbaby who was watering his pant leg with the watering can. He looked at the sky and said bird. Good enough.
Well anyway, have at the garden, rain or shine--it'll make you feel fine.