Clover field edged by sprouting broccoli in weird light before storm.
Yesterday a large afternoon storm out of the cascades swept through, filled with drama and enough rain for two days of happy garden vegetables. I triple tilled the final polygon in the Meadow Garden and had a small work party where people removed the miles of crabgrass roots. Tomorrow I’ll get straw, we will fill in polygon and then make heart-shaped rows within it. It is guitar pick shaped right now, simply because of the lay of the land. Arugula has been quite popular and we are basically out, until I grow a new crop. In the heart shaped bed I’ll be trying out Wasabi arugula for the first time.
When I was six in 1971, my mother taught organic gardening in the field to young hippies who had fled the city. This was impromptu and just based on the freaks we knew, in our town of 600. Chris and Charley next door, Louanne, who we got goat milk from, Debra and Phyllis (an inter-racial lesbian couple, rare anywhere in those days) and Roy and Cinnamon, who had the best stereo and the most expansive psychedelic music collection. These friends, with my mom and sometimes big sister, showed me how people work together to grow food and learn of each other in the process. How similar culture is woven together to make for a solid framework.
Without falling down the rabbit-hole of an essay, I’ve been thinking on all the culture I’ve taken in to date, the tribes I’ve been happily assimilated into and then what I bring to Lost Valley. Stepping into existing culture that resonates with me made sense. With the forward motion of growing food here, my ideologies around agrarianism can take wing beyond my ability. So I’m asking myself and the kitchen–what are the immediate needs and how do I keep my work joyful? Also, how do I build these gardens so that maintaining them is a simple process for future residents. One reason I write this blog is as a log to reference big picture moves with the gardens and what is working, or not.
Yellow Crookneck squash and Persian baby cucumbers maturing
Black Krim tomatoes in a crib. I did not overbuild this crib, but may need more stout wood later if the tomatoes get muscle. There is no second guessing how they will be, as the season takes off.
Overwintered cabbage now forming heads. Note lettuce seedlings to the left (5th seeding of greens). Bush beans to the right are doing poorly. I’m going to dose them with bat poo if it is a nitrogen lock up from copious amount of straw in that area.
Beets, nasturtiums and kale battle it out in the greenhouse.
Ducklings and chicks continue growth towards teenage years. Of the nine chicks, four remain. Only one seems to be presenting as a rooster. Relieved by that!
Mongolian Giant sunflowers now with visible flax seedlings at their feet. Looking towards a riot of color and seed food.