It’s that time of year again when obsession with seedlings somehow takes hold for a short while. I wonder if I’ll ever get over it, that almost overpowering early spring feeling that you don’t want to waste even a SINGLE seedling. Here, I germination tested a few Witkiem fava beans (broad beans) from an overlooked four-year-old supply. Bean seed viability is often rated at three years, but I didn’t doubt that these were fine, they looked and felt great. I tested some anyhow: wrapped them in a paper towel, misted them with water, popped them in a clear ziploc plastic bag, put them in a warm spot. That was about three weeks ago. Sure enough, a week later, the not-so-little white radicles were poking out of all of these big beans. Excellent! So I put them back in the bag and kinda forgot about them, moved them and all. Today, they were unpacked, and even without any light for at least a week, the seedlings were lustily struggling to break free. Now the kinda obsessive part is, I FEEL BAD ABOUT THROWING THEM OUT! This is pretty crazy. There is no good reason to pot them in February and have ’em hanging around for months until it’s warm and dried out enough to transplant. After two-three months in a pot, they’ll be useless as proper transplants, anyhow. Meanwhile, in a couple of weeks, there’ll start to be so many seedlings around here, and this keep-’em-all urge I’m having now will be gone without a trace. So I stuck ’em in some water, just for now… I thought this beginning of the season hang-on-to-every-seedling thing would wear off after a few years, but apparently not yet. Maybe I don’t take this business of tiny farming seriously enough! :)
Veggies
Grow lights on again!
It took a day to sort things out after the move on Sunday, and now the onion seedlings are back in the light racks in the new seedling room, soaking up the cool white fluorescent light. Three trays in all of onions, along with a still-to-germinate tray of parsley, made the little old farm-new farm road trip, and that’s the season’s start so far!
Mid-February melt-off
It rained steadily, on and off, all day yesterday, through the night and still today, with the temperature a couple of degrees above zero. In other words, cold, gray, wet, miserable, and also perfect for removing vast quantities of snow. The 2-3′ of coverage in the field is gone. It’s still cold, though, and back to sub-zero tomorrow, so no giant warm blast of spring just yet, only an easy way to the greenhouse to clean stuff out. Great timing!
Onions emerge
Four days from seeding and the first Red Wing onions are popping up. A fine sight to see, the first new on-farm veggie greenery of the season! These guys will be transported to the new farm on Sunday… So many things going on at once—seed starting while moving the tiny farm—if you’re a fan of the slightly surreal (I am!), this is just great!
New seed started!
This is it, the official start of the new growing season (since there wasn’t time to plant out garlic in the fall at the new farm)! I seeded a fresh packet of 1,000 Red Wing red onion seeds in three 72-cell plug sheets. That’s 4-5 seeds per cell—after the good results last season, I’m going the multi-plant route again, 3-4 onions in one spot, instead of singles. There are lots more onions and leek to come, including sets, this is the beginning. I’m still at the old farm, the new seedling room is not quite ready, so I’ll be starting a few more things here in the next couple of days, and take them along on the move! For the Red Wing, I hung a couple of lights on one of the light racks. As usual, the trays are covered in plastic wrap to hold heat and moisture. This tiny farm marches on!
Village general store
When I came to the farm six years ago, there was a second, slightly bigger store, actually called the General Store. It was sold, managed badly by the new owners, and soon went out of business, and Isabel’s mini-emporium of necessary stuff became the last store standing for 10 miles around. It’s a three-minute walk down the road—the farm is right on the edge of the village—and I’ve gone there for this or that, including picking up the mail, most of the days that I’ve been here. It doesn’t have a particularly quaint, rustic country store look, but it does the job! Isabel had been running it for decades, knew everybody, and her easy blend of diplomacy, discretion and informative chat made it a news hub for the area (no small thing: you find out the rural life is all about what people are up to). And she had a sharp eye for country retail. As I slowly found out with some amazement (coming from a land of endless stores), she managed to pack just about everything you had to have NOW into one small space. A 3-inch drain plug, gear clamp, 2-stroke motor oil, Kikkoman Japanese soy sauce, photocopies, if you really needed it, chances are it was in there. I used to joke (well, I was serious) that on one tiny, 2’x4′ section of wall, she had 90% of the most useful stuff in the giant hardware store in town. Her strategy was pretty simple, keeping tabs on exactly what her customers, farmers and cottagers, and the more “city” type commuting folk living in the village, needed again and again. Combined with my not driving, Isabel’s efficiency encouraged the growing make-do-or-do-without part of my tiny farm experience. It’s startling how much extra junk you don’t really need to buy. For minimalist one-stop shopping: 4 stars! :)
A favorite tree…
It’s not hard to like the aged, half-dead black locust tree right in front of the farmhouse, ’cause it always looks good. It’s gnarled and sinister, kinda hypnotic, particularly on flat, grey days (I wonder if the creepy feel is a cultural thing, or if it looks that way to everyone). With the new farm move only a few days away now, a couple of weeks at most, I’m making a bit of a last-minute effort to round out the old farm snapshot collection…