In about two months,

picture this

but with tomatoes.

The Cover Up

The brassicas are officially on their way. The cloches did absolute wonders for the indoors to outdoors transition. I swear they doubled in size. We hung up the cloches, which are in great shape, and will utilize them again with the squash, peppers, and tomatoes.

The row covers are in place. We're not sure if we'll make frames or just leave them directly draped. I think it will be determined by the amount of time we have down the road. I'm sure either way will be fine and any decision we make will not make too big of an impact on the health of the plants.

New Toy!

Last year we grew big, beautiful cabbages and broccoli that were filled with big, horrendous cabbage worms. It was pretty gross, and we hardly got to eat any of it. Since hand-picking the dumb bugs off did not work, we decided to try a new approach: floating row covers.

We ordered a 7ft x 50ft cover from Fedco, and it showed up in the mail a couple days ago. This stuff is so light! I suppose that's to be expected, but neither of us had any firsthand experience with row covers, so we were surprised. I think it's going to work really well to keep the cabbage moths, and in turn the cabbage worms, away.

A pot of African violets testing out the new row cover

Garden Girls Gone Wild

I'm sure that most gardeners have a spray bottle of some fashion laying around for the occasional spritz. We are no different. Our bottle looks like any other bottle and quite honestly it never really gathered much attention beyond a few squeezes to keep the ferns happy and the grow lights from torching our seedlings.

So things were cool; we were basking in the whole ignorance is bliss thing and then, like those silly cats in Eden, we got curious and paid for it dearly.

Our mothers read this blog (hey Ma, hey Laurel), so I typically try to keep the foul language to a bare minimum—but what the fuck is going on here?! I don't see a happy gardener, I see wet t-shirt contest garden erotica. Look at this poor lady. She's just trying to have a little QT with her plants and all of the sudden some big brother sprayer is dousing her chest. Have you ever seen the movie Flash Dance? Yep, she's like a maniac alright.


Okay, yes, I know I'm taking this a little too far, but we're currently stalling while we put together some long overdue posts about a new friend of ours who drives a 1951 International Harvester. We did find the bottle a bit odd, but how fuckin' nuts do you think we really are? Oh shit! Sorry Ma, sorry Laurel ;)

A School Lunch

We are political eaters. Now this doesn't mean we're perfect eaters—I can tear into a cheesesteak like an alligator eating a gazelle—but I don't think either of us has stepped into a a fast food joint (bathroom breaks included) in at least five years. I believe that the processed foods we buy at the market are officially nonexistent and just about every meal we eat requires some sort of preparation that can't be done in a microwave.

We don't eat like this to look kickass to everyone else; we do it because our bodies just respond well to it. There is also great pleasure to be had from food that is allowed the freedom to communicate its flavors in the simplest expressions. I think that everyone would have a healthier relationship with their food if they just gave it time. Unfortunately, time is probably the greatest reason why people feed themselves food not from their own kitchens.

Tuesdays and Thursdays are my "long days." I leave to catch the train at 7:15 in the morning and get back around 4:00 in the afternoon. On Mondays and Wednesdays I'm usually back by 2:00 before I have to teach a 6-9. Yeah I know, my life is rough.

On my long days, I pack a lunch which usually consists of fruit, a PBJ, and some soup. There isn't a microwave for me to use, so if I want something hot I need to bring it in a food jar or start a fire. I figured that I would save the later for after I get tenure.

Before the semester started I bought a Stanley food jar and it has been the talk of the town/faculty lounge. To keep in line with our political appetite, I make my soup from scratch (broth excluded until next year). I chop up a bit of potatoes and veggies the night before and bring them to a boil in broth the following morning. By the time lunch rolls around, the potatoes are cooked through and the rest of the veggies have added a little boost to the broth. It's pretty simple and the fact that I only have to do it twice a week really helps keep it interesting.

Seed Stuff

A couple weeks ago Mike of Tiny Farm Blog posted about a big 'ol shelf in his barn where he stores all kinds of miscellaneous farming odds and ends. We've got a similar collection in a room we refer to as the solarium—it's an odd cross between a mudroom and a hallway, and it's got two nice, big skylights. It houses a big table full of potted plants, our coats, shoes, and chicken food, the big freezer, and our seed stuff. In a month or so our newly-sown seedlings will live under the grow lights and all the potting soil, seed trays, spray bottles, and plant markers will once again be put to use. Meanwhile, everything remains in a big pile on and around the tables—is there really any nice looking way to organize this stuff?

From left to right: potting soil, perlite, etc; shoebox o' seeds; harvest basket; October, Cranberry, and Cherokee dried beans; old clementine crate; produce scale; pirate flag awaiting a new pole; eggshells in a bag; random pots; spray bottle; seed trays; more harvest baskets; and hot peppers hanging to dry. Yikes.