Gardener of all I survey…

The View from the top of the gangway that leads into the upper level of the barn. Once things get growing, I go up here every day to survey the scene. Today, it pretty much sums up the spring so far, mainly damp, grey and gloomy (see Mar.16, Feb.18). Without sun, the grass has hardly started to green up. You can just make out the yellow markers in the very first section on the left where yesterday I got in beds of spinach (Bloomsdale, Spargo), beets (Scarlet Supreme, Detroit Dark Red) and radish (Rebel, French Breakfast). That felt good!

Breaking new ground

Added a new section to the garden plot today, with a helping hand from Bob, his tractor and a moldboard plow. The moldboard turns the top few inches almost completely over. It’s very effective for breaking up sod, and it’s also sort of an old school approach. Apparently, some farms moldboard once or twice a season, but as a regular practice, it’s not great for the soil and has somewhat fallen from favor in recent years. Here, it’s a one-time plowing that gets the job done!

The rhubarb debacle

Rhubarb

Debacle may be a little strong, the future of my newly established rhubarb patch is not absolutely dire, but it’s not looking perky just yet. I’ve so far managed to spot only half a dozen of the 50 odd transplants I set out last year in spring. I’d ambitiously dug up part of an ancient patch in the house garden (it needed thinning anyway), divided out a ton of roots, and planted at least 50 on 3′ centers (hopefully, I’ll be able to count ’em in a couple more weeks) in a permanent spot in the garden field. I can’t quite remember what I was thinking: eventually, rhubarb for an entire village?! Problem became the low priority of rhubarb in the busy year, upkeep of the patch got away from me, and it grew over quite heavily with grass and other weedy items. Also, fewer, denser plantings might’ve been a better idea. But rhubarb is tough, I dunno if it can be smothered by mere other plants… We’ll soon see!

First direct seeding of the year!

O the excitement and satisfaction. The first 400′ of snap peas (Sugar Ann) are in! This is the first seed to hit the field this year!!

It’s a low-risk gamble for two-three extra early bushels for the market. With over a week of cold days, subzero nights and even snow ahead till mid-month, the peas may germinate unevenly, and there’s little more annoying and unproductive than picking a not-dense-enough pea planting (you pick forever to get relatively little).

Last year, I seeded out this early with two varieties, and neither worked out as well as the next seeding 10 days later.

Here you see the results of my current bed marking technique: using a 100′ reel-type measuring tape, I mark the path centers on both ends with a label stake, walk ’em out, and pull up the stakes. Presto!

These beds are 4-1/2′ wide. The spacing between the double rows is a little wide to what I usually do (4-5″), but the freshly tilled soil made maneuvering the Earthway seeder close to the first row difficult (tight double rows for bush peas let the plants support each other and you don’t have to weed between).

It’ll work out! Delicious edible-pod peas in 60 days?!

Horse back in action…

The Troy-Bilt Horse walking rototiller is back in action for the first day of tilling in the field. I prepped a 50’x50′ section for snap peas. The Horse is noisy and uses a fair (though not unreasonable) share of gas, but it’s also a very handy machine for larger areas (in fact, I would’ve used the rototiller on the tractor, but the ground is still too wet to take the weight). All things in moderation on the way to becoming a fully-rounded, taking-it-slow, hand-laboring farmer! (Gear note: This Horse is c. 1995, from the original Troy-Bilt line, before the company was gobbled up by a bigger one and the construction got more lightweight. I bought it used, at half the price of new, and in near mint condition. It should last a long, long time—in my first farming year, I borrowed a rusty 30-year-old Horse that did just fine.)

Floating row cover!

Early lettuce under floating row cover

It’s around 8:30 in the morning and I’m about to uncover the early lettuce. Floating row cover is a very lightweight spunbonded polyester, light enough not to crush seedlings when laid down directly on top. It lets in water and sunlight, and also retains heat, to differing degrees depending on weight. This one is medium weight, my all-purpose cover. It transmits 85% of sunlight and keeps the temperature 3-4°F warmer when the surrounding air is around zero. Over the last couple of nights, the greenhouse low was 19°F (-7°C)—the lettuce can take a little freezing, and would probably manage without cover. Still, every edge helps, and this one’s easy. Floating row cover is a common sight around here throughout the year, it’s my main organic alternative to pesticides (it keeps out certain flying insects on certain crops at certain critical times) and also gives you an edge in getting things out early and keeping them out late. Beat that frost!