More garden updates, and "that question"

I did get a bit done in the garden yesterday.  Nothing like all the transplanting and trellis-building I did the day before, but prep work is still important work.  There are now three hills for melons or pumpkins and a circle ready for Moose’s bean teepee.  I have marigolds scatted around the tomato, pepper, and bean beds, and I added Swiss chard to the short sides of the bed with the squash and luffa gourds.  I transferred two of the little buckeye tree sprouts from one big container into two separate ones, then planted New Zealand spinach in the empty pot.  Dwarf nasturtiums went into the long, skinny one that had been home to some of the beans that had been growing in the window.  I set the cucumber seedling into the ground with an old tomato cage.  I pulled lots of weeds and discovered several dozen volunteer squash seedlings in the compost heap.  While weeding the herb/kitchen garden, I saw that the chives and purple ruffles basil that I direct-seeded are up.  The basil is almost as big as the single plant I started indoors months ago.  All this rain is good stuff!

Of course, the lastest bit of that rain has been going non-stop since the wee hours of morning, so no garden work for me today.  Instead, I’m nursing my cold, eating fresh, warm pumpkin muffins, and trying to figure out what to do with Hank.  Hank is the rotund groundhog that’s set up shop under our shed sometime over the last few weeks.  Hank needs a new home, but since he’s not likely to go willingly, I first need a trap.  Early this morning, though, as I watched him waddle toward the garden (such a cute little waddle!) through Moose’s window, I wanted nothing more than a gun.  I fully believe that almost all creatures are part of the natural cycle of life in which my garden lives, but I also watched my grandfather spend pretty much every summer I can remember trying to keep the critters from his garden.  I need those plants for my family to eat, and it will be far better for both Hank and me if he just sticks to a diet of grass and weeds.


Meanwhile, what’s my diet been like?  I got the dreaded “so, what can you eat?” question last week upon divulging Moose’s allergies, so I’ve decided to keep track of our food for a week.  Want a peek?

Monday, May 16

• Breakfast – Buckwheat pancakes with fresh strawberries and chocolate chips, with immune-boosting tea for me
• Lunch – Coconut milk yogurt with strawberries and granola
• Dinner – Barbequed chicken leg quarters, roasted root veggies, and green beans, with fresh-squeezed lemonade to drink

 

Tuesday, May 17

• Pre-breakfast snack for Moose while I baked -- Dry cereal with rice milk and a handful of dried tart cherries
• Breakfast -- pumpkin muffins, with immune-boosting tea for me and apple-cinnamon tea for Moose 
• Lunch – Leftover root veggies and iced red raspberry leaf tea with honey 
• Dinner (planned) – Beef cubes and gravy served over brown rice with fresh baby portabellos and leftover green beans on the side 

Not too shabby, huh?  I do tend to get lazy and make up big batches of things so that I can freeze some or use it for leftovers, but good food is good food even two days in a row!  Meanwhile, I ask you:  What can you eat?

 

Springing to life

The garden is starting to look lush and green.  So far, we have turnips, lettuce, golden beets, carrots, onions, spinach, and a variety of potatoes coming up.  Tomato and pepper seedlings have been transplanted, as have the luffa gourds and the beans that I accidentally planted indoors months ago.  I’ve direct seeded more pole beans, zucchini, yellow squash, Swiss chard, and some zinnias.  Today’s task is to lay out the rest of the tilled area, setting aside spaces for Moose’s bean teepee, sunflower forest, and the watermelon hill.  The teepee will be home to scarlet runner beans, and I may also be planting pie pumpkins.  I have a lot of flower seeds to sprinkle around as well.

Meanwhile, Moose himself has come down with a nasty cold.  The poor boy is miserable, and after being up listening to him cough all night, I’m not feeling too hot myself.  Nothing a good dose of gardening won’t fix, though, so off I go!  With any luck, I'll be back later with a fresh crop of pictures and the tale of some garden tools.

Happy birthday, Efratha!

It's a rainy, dreary day.  If I hadn't been hoping for a load of manure to be delivered, I'd be fine with that.  I have a pot of ham and bean soup simmering on the stove, a loaf of bread rising on the counter, and a happy baby playing with jars of last year's jam.  Because of the way our house is laid out, you can hear the rain beating against the roof from both the living room and the loft.  It's cozy.  The rest of the week is supposed to be like this, but that's okay--I love rainy days.  I'm thinking about making a pot of tea and curling up with a book during Mikey's nap.

It's also raining this week in Arogyavaram, India, where Efratha lives.  Her house is not so large or well-built, and it likely doesn't keep the rain out as well.  Wearing sandles, her long walk to school will end up with her being uddy and miserable, but she goes anyway.  She's studying hard for her exams and knows that doing well will greatly increase her options in life.  She's smart and talented, but having been born to parents that are among the poorest on the planet, she was not afforded many opportunities until she was registered with Compassion project near her home.  Now she's about to graduate from high school, a huge achievement in a country that often places little value on female children.  She'll eat today, also thanks to Compassion, though her meals will not be so large or varied as the ones we'll enjoy.  Instead, she'll help her mother dice vegetables to mix in with their rice, her favorite meal.  It's her seventeenth birthday today, you see.  The little girl who once boasted to me of her beautiful brown eyes and love for
English literature is growing up.

Unlike other impoverished children in India, Efratha has been given the chance to learn and grow in a safe environment.  The essentials for daily life that her parents could not afford have been provided for her, allowing her to focus on school and extracurriculars rather than merely staying alive.  Along with an academic eduction, she's competed in soccer tournaments and Bible Quest, taken part in plays and music festivals, volunteered to visit the sick and elderly, become active in the local government, gone of field trips, participated in color guard, learned valuable skills such as embroidery and tailoring that can be used to earn income as an adult...the list goes on and on.  "Through all these," she writes in one of her letters, "I am developing physically, educationally, spiritually, and socially.  It as all because of you only.  I am getting opportunities to develop myself where others are not getting.  So very much thankful to you."

I have been a sponsor through Compassion International since 2004.  I've had the opportunity to visit another of our children, Jackeline, in Honduras and see first-hand just how much of a difference the program makes.  Jackeline was well-behaved, clean, healthy, and happy, unlike the majority of the other poor children we witnessed.  Her mother cried and hugged me, thanking me for joining with Compassion, which had given her beloved daughter so much.  I dream of visiting each of our girls upon their graduations from high school.  Efratha tells me that English is widely spoken in Arogyavaram, but it looks like I need to get to studying my Spanish.

Today, on Efratha's birthday, I entreate you to visit Compassion's page and learn more about this amazing organization.  I'm not a particularly trusting individual, but I wholeheartedly believe in the difference that Compassion is making around the world.  Even if you decide not to become a sponsor, I encourage you to ask yourself what you are doing to make a difference.  There is absolutely no excuse to remain caught up in yourself.   If both Efratha and Jackeline can find ways in their overwhelming poverty to help others as well as themselves, surely we in our comparative wealth can do the same.  How can you make the world a brighter, more beautiful place on this rainy day?

I have a garden!

Or at least, I'm very close to having one.  My sister-in-law's husband (whatever that makes him) came over with his chainsaw and tiller today. We cut down five fairly large oaks and tilled up an area around 18x40'. We chose the spot with the best soil around the house, and it isn't as bad as I thought it would be--a few fairly dark, rich spots, and the rest not too horrible. It definitely has clay in it, but not straight red clay embedded with shale like most of the property.

We sucked it up and bought boards from the sawmill for 5 of the 10 beds I had planned. Well...I thought it would be 5 beds (10 - 12' long 2x8s). My dad, who came along with his truck to haul the wood back home, grabbed 12 boards instead of 10 when I wasn't looking. No wonder the bill was higher than I expected. 6 beds with the "good" lumber, 3.5'x9' each with one 3'x9' bed, plus probably 3 more smaller ones from scrap wood I'm finally using from when we finished our basement and knocked down a wall. Probably 9 of my 10 beds! Yay!

5 of the frames are assembled and just need painted. I'm using cheap "barn and fence" paint in hopes that it will keep them from rotting away on me quite as fast. I'm still pulling nails from some of the reclaimed lumber, but it's going quickly. Cutting boards down to size is a two-man (or one-man and one-girl) job, but once they're cut, I can put them together. I even got to break out my trusty tool belt.

I hope to have the frames finished, with two coats of paint each, and in place by the end of the week. If Moose takes long naps, I think it's possible. Then I'm hoping that I can get a truck of some sort to pick up the alpaca manure on Saturday. Sunday, with luck, I'll be picking up some bamboo poles from a friend who has a bunch on his property. Once I have the poles, I can put up our Giant Deer Fence of Doom. Stupid deer are already eating the tulips I just planted last year. Oh well...as least my first daffodil has bloomed today!

I'm waiting on some soil samples to dry so that I can test them. I ran some tests with a home kit last fall, but I think our well water might have thrown the results off. Once I test this evening, I'll figure out a plan for amending the soil we already have. If it's not too terribly depleted of all goodness and virtue, I'm going to try to use it in the raised beds and not bothering buying soil. My parents offered to get me some for my birthday, but the alternative is a nice dehydrator. Decisions, decisions.

On a sad note, my redneck pea bed got stepped on. I tried to fix the damage, but we'll see how it turns out.  I'm still hoping for a few peas in exchange for all the work I did building that thing from sticks. Sugar snaps--yum.

Final note: The potatoes. I'm thinking of planting them in really thick, sturdy cardboard boxes and adding straw or something as the plants grow. The boxes are 14.5" W x13.5" D x 20" T. I bought 1.5 lbs of seed potato and was told it would fill a 3x3' or 4x4' square bed. Hopefully my plan isn't too crazy, but I guess there's only one way to find out. The back-up plan is tearing apart free pallets and building boxes, but I think the Engineer would just roll his eyes and sigh again.

How does your garden grow?

As mentioned before, one of my Grand Plans is to have vegetable garden.  There are three main purposes for this:  to grow a healthy, safe variety of organic vegetables; to introduce Moose to the wonders of plants and insects; and to have fun, because I find playing in the dirt and watching things grow to be great sport.

There have been a number of setbacks, but as soon as this rain stop, we're all set to get started!  I've been keeping a log of my progress.  One can't have a proper experiment without a good log, can one?  (Can't have any kind of experiment without a control group, but whatever.  I'm unemployed, in Greenland, so I don't have to be proper anymore.)

All of this has happened before

Traditions.  Comfort food.  Walks in the woods.  Rituals.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the life I want to build for my family.  Maybe it's because I'm an introvert through-and-through, but after being out in the world for a spell, I need time to sit back, reflect, and let everything sink in.  I'm starting to think that most people could benefit from doing the same.  After a day of running here and there, being bombarded by messages from people and signs and electronic media, and trying to deal with chores and child-rearing and all the things that need done before I can sleep...I'm ready for something that I know.  Something that doesn't require thought or large amounts of effort.  Something comforting.

Just like slipping on a well-worn pair of jeans, the traditions you build for your family fit you just right.  They hug where it's necessary and have just enough give from being too confining.  Traditions and rituals bind us together.  We know all the steps, though we might alter them over time to suit our needs.  Right now, our family only has little things, but they mark us as a unit and help us settle back into our groove after a day apart.  Moose and I sit on the porch swing and read a book while we wait for the Engineer to come home.  We listen to certain radio broadcasts on a regular basis.  We take a walk down the winding road by our house, pointing out the "owl holes" in the trees, the animals at the alpaca farm just down from us, the boat by the pond, the baby cows.  We eat dinner together.  For naps and bedtime, we have a quiet routine to help Moose fall asleep easily and peacefully.  For me, when the world gets to be too much, I've found that preparing tea and sipping it while I read a book seems to set it back in order again.  So does pulling weeds or picking berries.  I might not consciously think it, but my body knows:  I've done this before.  I can do this again.  It's all good.

Have you ever walked into the house after being gone for a while and been enveloped by the smell of what your mother was cooking for dinner or what you put in the slow cooker before you left?  It's amazing how comforting certain foods can be--not because of anything inherent in the food, but because of the emotions and memories attached to it.  There are foods we eat, and there are foods we love, but some foods seem to rise above and actually embody love itself.  As our family grows, I want to give them foods that speak to their hearts and remind them that they are loved.  They have a family, and a home, and a place in this world.  Nothing can overcome that.

The world outside these walls seems like it's always changing.  Change can be good.  You can't grow without change.  Still, it's nice for some of that growth to come gradually, predictably.  Whether it's a walk to see the baby cows, getting bigger by the day, or watching tiny seeds grow to produce a bountiful harvest, I want to give Moose things that he can use to anchor himself when life goes crazy around him.  Sometimes that might be food.  Sometimes it might be tradition.  I hope he knows that it's all just a manifestation of love.  For now, he's started joining me for tea and a small snack before his nap.  He requests it, even.  My baby boy and I are starting our own traditions, and it fills me with joy.

Eating leaves

It's been an interesting couple of weeks.  I've eaten things I never thought I'd eat...and even liked some of them.  I've also started seeds for the garden; dressed out for my first event with the amazing La Belle Compagnie, a fourteenth-century living history group; and sewed until my fingers bled.  There has been sickness and health, sunburns and hailstorms.

Did I mention that I'd eaten things I never thought I'd eat?  Namely, a salad.  Yes, I am the girl who has never eaten a green salad in her life.  This has rarely proven problematic, more of an issue for those who tease me about it than it is for me, but does make eating out practically impossible with Allergic Boy in tow.  I always thought that I hated vegetables, but it seems now that I just hated the way they were cooked for me.  Vegetables are good!  Tasty!  Healthy!  Cooked ones, that is.  Raw ones were still just a bit too much.  In any case, well-meaning friends applied a large amount of peer pressure, and I ate two lettuce leaves (one green, one purple), some celery, some carrot, and heaven only knows what else, all with homemade salad dressing.  Yes, they were slimy leaves.  Not nearly as bad as I'd thought, though, which is remarkable given my abhorrence for all things either green or slimy.

Then came the radish, a few weeks later.  It was raw, and it was tricky.  At first, even with salt, it just tasted like a raw root vegetable.  A few moments later, though, the peppery taste sneaked up on me.  Tricksy radish!  I won't be making that mistake again.

Parsnips were a greater success, perhaps because they were cooked.  Of course, anything cooked over an open fire always tastes better than ones cooked in a modern kitchen, so I'm only hoping I can replicate them at home.  The best ones were soft and a little caramelized.  Delicious.  Even my veggie-hating husband agreed.

On the topic of vegetables, I discovered today that Moose adores raw tomatoes.  For some reason, it never occurred to me to let him try any.  Luckily, I'll have loads of sweet, bite-sized cherry and yellow pear tomatoes in the garden this year for eating straight off the vine.

More to come, but I'll wait until I have recipes to share.  Keep an eye out for some new things I've been playing with that involve buckwheat, lentils, beans, and all manner of deliciousness.