The Vegetable Garden

Every year since we moved here, the vegetable garden has expanded in weird and wonderful ways. It has more than doubled in width, going from a narrow strip of land to a fat rectangle. Then it grew a separate appendage. A couple of years ago, I thought I was going to lose all my tomatoes plants to early blight. I quickly threw together a lasagna garden and planted a few more tomatoes. As it turned out, I save most of my plants and I had tomatoes galore. But the 'appendix' as Don calls it, stayed. Last year, I made the appendix larger using the lasagna method again and tried The Three Sisters there. So the garden is now in two pieces.

My goal is to grow enough that I can freeze/can/pickle the harvest to last to the next harvest. I had no idea just how much vegetables we consumed until I tried to grow them. While I haven't reached my goal yet, I'm getting close. We still have tomatoes I put up last year. The onions lasted till February as did the frozen veggies. I'm hoping to reach my goal with this season.

As it expanded, it also transformed in looks, from orderly rows of vegetables to patches, circles and yes, even the occasional row. This evolution continues as I learn more about companion planting, not only to encourage growth but to discourage pests as well. I must admit, I like the garden without its stern rows. It looks more natural to me, and isn't that the whole point?

Life is Like a Box of Chickens, You Never Know What You're Going to Get.

The chicks arrived yesterday amid confusion, hassle and panic. I found out 15 minutes before they arrived at the airport that they were on their way. I'm two hours from the airport. I was not impressed. I did a very good impression of a chicken running around with its head cut off trying to leave as fast as possible. Settling the dogs, I said, "I'll feed you when I get home." They were not impressed. I turned on the brooder light in the hopes it would warm somewhat before I got back. I figured I'd deal with the pine chips, waterers and feeders when I got home. The chicks would likely not be impressed.

I certainly had my share of Karmic revenge getting there. I am notorious for following the speed limits while everyone else on the island seem to think the speed signs are merely suggestions instead of law. However, today I was stuck behind every vehicle going a good 20 clicks under the limit. Passing on a two lane road mined with potholes and wavering pavement is not something I want to do. I animatedly talked to the cars blocking my way. Drivers glancing in their rear view mirrors would not be impressed.

I got to the airport hours late and asked for my box of chicks. The staff was not impressed. I hope every turtle-driver I followed in was behind me when I went home; I drove like I was carrying feathered dynamite. Besides, it's hard to concentrate with a non-stop chorus of peep-peep-peep. About 45 minutes away from home, I noticed the chicks had become ominously quiet. If they are not peeping, may-be they decided to croak. I pulled over and checked. They were all huddled and fluffed. I had brought water and a larger box so I gave each chick a beak dip in the water and put them in the larger box. I don't know if the road crew watching was impressed but they certainly were amused as I tried to figure out how to water the chicks without drowning them.

Finally home, one by one, I put them in a brooder that was still too cold. I fed and watered them. After a while they began to scoot around, spanning their soft, fluffy wings and tripping over their picky ugly feet. Little tiny fuzz heads bobbed and pecked. They looked so fragile. Campared to them, the most delicate and thin crystal wineglass looks as sturdy as a brick. And yet these breakable little chicks survived a flight and a long wait, I was impressed.

One Garden Done (almost)

Yesterday was an 'iffy' day. It couldn't make up its mind whether to rain or not. The sky alternated from sunny smiles to brooding grey frowns and then back again. So I decided to work in the Butterfly Garden. That way, if the rain did show up, I could quickly finish up and get inside.

As it turned out, I managed to get a lot accomplished. Except for a bit more weeding, the Butterfly Garden is just about done. The garden is spiffed up with fresh home-made compost and few more perennials. I planted some loverage and mullein a friend gave me and transplanted a bee balm planted that had been growing with the tomatoes last year. I decided not to seed comos but to put in calendula seeds instead. They're bright, friendly flowers and I hear they are self-seeding.

I was pleased to see all my lavender plants made it through the winter. I saw just a hint of new green barely visible in the winter-dulled grey-green stems, a gentle victory over Winter's harshness. The lamb's ear, comfortably nestled against a backdrop of rocks and logs, have just started to stretch their fuzzy leaves out in the sun. The lupins did not return but I have their seeds and will probably plant them along our old wooden fence this Autumn. That's the best thing about the Butterfly Garden; the flow and ebb, a plant dies, leaving seeds and planting ideas in my mind of future gardens.