Rain delay
Springtime = mudtime
Springtime, personified, is a fickle lass. One day, she’ll appear in the guise of warm sunshine, bedecked with lush greenery and fragrant flowers. The next, she’ll swirl in on stormy grey clouds, lashing her chilly cloak around her and casting cascades of rain down on the fields.
The latter vision of Spring visited us last week and lingered for a couple of days. Though on Monday I was able to plant more potatoes and enjoy some sunshine (if also cool breezes), by Tuesday I was sequestered in the greenhouse to water, weed, and sow more flats of seedlings — and listening to the wind ruffle the plastic shell of the structure and the rain pelt against it from all sides.
By Wednesday, Dave called me to say I needn’t bother heading to the farm for work since it was far too muddy to plant onions or anything else.
This is what happens come spring. No matter what we think we need to do, no matter what the calendar dictates we should do in the fields, the weather has the final say. Sometimes we can push the boundaries a little, but after storms and abundant rainfall, there’s no point in mucking through the fields only to compact the soil and to plant seedlings that are liable to have decreased yield due to the cool and soggy conditions.
And so on Wednesday, I stayed home, poured myself an extra cup of coffee, and devoted the day to extra baking — something I welcomed as I was facing a longer list of market baking in preparation for the Grand Opening at Local Roots.
Eventually, the warmth and sunshine returned by week’s end, and since I’ve been neglecting my own vegetable patches lately, I decided to spend some time there, planting out the next round of seedlings and seeds.
On Friday afternoon, I headed out to Jen’s place for the next round of planting. We agreed that by waiting until then, the sun would give the soil a chance to dry out a little bit, though it would still be comparatively easy for weeding. I gathered up three flats of seedlings — mainly brassicas and herbs, with a few flowers and a four-pack of celery thrown in — and joined her in the damp vegetable patch to work for a couple of hours.
Small, but here's hoping these cabbages will turn out mighty
As we worked through one bed in particular, I discovered that though the soil was still moist and easy to clump together, Jen’s weeding had loosened it enough for me to transplant seedlings easily. I laid in rows of broccoli, Brussels sprouts, and cabbage before filling the rest of the bed with herbs such as cumin, chamomile, hyssop, and garlic chives as well as echinacea and shasta daisies.
The oats are growing, despite the mud
While there, I inspected the previously planted plots and was pleased to find that the oats I had sown (not wild, of course) had grown to approximately 4″ in height, despite the more muddy conditions in their corner of the garden. Though that texture of soil is hardly ideal, my books on grain-growing indicate that oats tend to need more moisture than other grains, and clay soil, while not the best, is not a significant detriment to their growth.
The potatoes have started to erupt from the soil surface, though they’re not yet ready for hilling, and most of the roots and greens crops have germinated as well. The rain may have made it difficult to plant anything earlier this week, but it certainly benefited what was already in place.
If anything, the combination of farming and weather is teaching me a great deal about patience and acceptance this year. There’s not a thing I can do about the weather, which means that some days there’s not a thing I can do about the farming. And as much as I’ve wanted to have plenty of control over my actions and my life in the past, I’m learning that not being in control can be rather freeing. Can’t work today due to mud? Well, OK, I won’t earn money today but maybe I can do something else. Just… move on.
As of today, rain is in the forecast for the next three days — the three days I’m scheduled to work at the farm this week. What that will mean for my work this week, I don’t yet know. But for today at least, the sun is still shining, so I’m planning to work in another of my gardens this afternoon and worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes.
