Our poor summer garden.  Almost a complete failure except for basil and peppers.  Everything grew, but suffered blossom drop from the heat. This ugly tomato was only one of two that we harvested.  Too much rain caused it to crack!  But it tasted good nonetheless, and I suppose that’s what matters.

I’m looking forward to slightly bigger yields this fall, although the sun’s position has shifted behind a giant cedar tree. Oh that tree, it’s the mortal enemy of my garden, and no matter how much we trim it, it is always in the way. We are contemplating a rooftop garden.  Is that crazy?  I’m not sure yet. But despite it all, I cleared out all the old plants and started some seeds.  And after reading up on beekeeping, I decided I’m not really ready to do that yet, but there’s a new feral hive right behind my house!  So that’ll be good for my garden, right?

So here it is.  Our first vegetable garden in over ten years. The plan for the raised bed is from the book The Urban Homestead by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen.  I would like to say it was easy to put together because I am not the one who put it together, but the project seemed to go quickly and without a hitch.  Without a hitch except that it was a thousand degrees outside. The hard part was lugging all the topsoil and compost from the hardware store.  It took two trips, and over forty bags to fill this thing.  That was the hard part.  Raised beds are a must for us because about four inches below our soil is a thick layer of shell.  Oh yeah, I live in Florida.

This garden is already doing better than the one before, probably due to the fact that it is getting more sunlight and more water.  Who knew?

Even though we knew that planting in the heat of summer might be a disaster, we went ahead and threw some starts in.  Everything’s looking good, if not impressive, but pretty much everything has blossom drop due to too-high temperatures.  The tomatoes set a few fruit, but we lost one to some kind of small worm.  The peppers have been doing well, and the basil has been keeping us in pesto for the past few weeks.

I don’t want to jinx myself by saying that this garden has been really easy, but well, it has.  While I know that it will take us probably a few years to build up really good soil, most of our plants are doing well, and the only plant I’ve lost so far was a marigold.

It’s just been pure pleasure watching this stuff grow.  And I’ve learned a few things already. Like it’s important to put the cages on the tomatoes before they get too big.  And don’t leave a full bale of mulching hay in a wagon where it can get full of water and then rot in a very stinky way.  And when somethng is looking good and ripe–pick it and stick it in the fridge before it rots.

This gardening thing is seriously addictive.  We have plans to build two more boxes like this one for the fall.  It’s been so much fun poring over seed catalogs (even if it has been virtual instead of actual.) I’m looking forward to the day when my first seed catalog arrives in the mail. Perhaps then I will feel like a real gardener.

Straight from the herb garden to tonight’s pizza.  Grown from seed.

Such satisfaction in these tiny things.

Happy weekend, friends.

I spent the past weekend processing the 73 pounds of tomatoes I picked on Friday, and it was exhausting work.  But now I have thirteen quarts of canned tomatoes, five pints of frozen oil-packed oven roasted tomatoes, thirteen pints of tomato chutney, and six pints of tomato jam.  Whew!  That’s a lot of chutney?  Do you like chutney?  Come over and get a jar.

Also on my mind lately is worm composting, vegetable gardening, chickens, and beekeeping.  I’m loving this video on “Backwards Beeekeeping.” All of this inspired by the book The Urban Homestead by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen. I first read about Kelly and Erik in the book Radical Homemakers. 

The Urban Homestead has knocked my socks off.  I’ve always come up with excuses for not gardening or keeping chickens, and now I have none.  We are going to be removing a (mostly) dead tree in our backyard, and cutting another way back, to try to create enough sunlight for a narrow veggie patch.  I am so excited about it!  I have big plans for the front yard too, which involve a citrus tree and a rose garden, all watered with graywater from our bath.  I’ve always thought it was such a waste to not re-use all that barely used water, and now I see that there is a real way to use it.

I also started my first wooden spoon, and I just finished the quilt top for the new quilt I am making.  I’ve been a busy bee!  But for now, spring has made a brief return to Florida (It’s usually summer temperatures here by now) so we are on our way outside for some reading.

Oh hello there.  I’ve missed you.  I am still here.

We went tomato picking at our local farm today.  One dollar for a full plastic bag.  That equates to about 14 pounds of tomatoes for a dollar.  How could I pass that up?! I spent a total of five dollars on 73 pounds of tomatoes, which I still cannot believe.  So now the tomatoes sit on my kitchen floor, awaiting their canned fate.

In addition to 73 pounds of tomatoes, I also have very dirty fingernails which no amount of nail-brushing will scrub out, and a complete respect for the migrant workers who pick most of our nation’s produce.

When we arrived home from the farm, I was hot, exhausted, and hungry.  I managed to muster the strength to make this sandwich, and it was a miracle: grilled yogurt-marinated chicken, provolone, fresh-picked tomato, alfalfa sprouts, red leaf lettuce, and a schmear of mayo and horseradish mustard on a bakery roll. Homemade pickles and a glass of my first batch of kefir water, to wash it down.  Just thinking about it now makes me want another one.

My near-religious experience with a chicken sandwich could have been because I was so hungry, but it also could have been because I spent the morning communing with a field of tomatoes.  Somehow, being on a farm always makes me so happy, and leaves me feeling inspired in the kitchen. I am determined to find a way to garden.  I’m desperate to.  We are contemplating drastic measures to make that happen in our own yard. For now I have some herbs in pots, and I am registered for a chicken-keeping class, and that will have to suffice until fall.  Of course in this Florida heat, fall is about a million years away, which leaves me plenty of time to plan.

Today I am feeling a bit under the weather.  We’ve had the ickies for the last week and I’m feeling like it can move along any day now.  You hear that?  Any day now.

I’m slowing down as much as a stay at home homeschooling mama can.  Trying to get enough sleep and rest.  I cast on a new spring sweater for The Girl.  (You know a sweater is small when you find it easier to knit it on double pointed needles rather than a circular needle.)

Mostly I’ve spent a lot of time thinking.

I’ve been thinking about Spring clothes to sew.

Wishing I could pore over seed catalogs like my friends who are blessed with enough space and sunlight to garden.  When the weather begins to warm, I always get the urge to get my fingers in the dirt. I’ve been fantasizing about a front yard vegetable garden.

Thinking it would be nice to finish my new kitchen curtains.  The ones I started before I got sick.

Contemplating the carving of a wooden spoon.  I love watching this.  I’ve always wanted to work more with wood and this seems as good a place to start as any.  We all need spoons, right?  And lately I’ve been thinking more about how useful things can be both useful and beautiful.  This man is serious about his spoons.  When I find something like this it just makes me love the world even more.  And I do like the Spoon Carving Manifesto.

That’s where I’ve been today, how about you?

This year I did manage to spread the festivities out over a few days, but not by much.  I’m still feeling overwhelmed with homeschool some days and Candlemas just snuck up on me. But one thing I have learned is that it is merely the recognition of these special days year after year, and holding a place of mindfulness, that makes these festivals extraordinary.

We planted wheatgrass, which always amazes the children with its rapid growth.

We made beeswax candles, and this year I let the kids participate.  They loved it, and no one was hurt.  Here’s The Boy, threading a wick through a wick clip.

Since Brigid is the goddess of healing and birth, she is commonly associated with cows and ewes.  In honor of that, we made butter by hand, using only a jar and some organic heavy cream.  I remember doing this as a child in elementary school and I remember that it took forever.  It did not take as long as I thought and it was fun for the three of us to keep passing the jar around.

Its so magical and fun to see something so practical happen in such a humble way.  Jar + cream + shaking = butter.  And this stuff is amazing.  It’s a good thing there’s only a small amount.  This could be really bad for my waistline.

In the afternoon, I made a new Brigit’s cross, while the kids played outside.  Last year’s is awaiting our next outdoor fire, to be burned.  (Many wet days in a row have prevented us from having the fire I had planned.)

We started our day with oatmeal pancakes made with soaked whole grains.  We make them using soymilk instead of the yogurt and water, and substituting millet for the buckwheat. (Sadly, no one in my house shares my love for buckwheat pancakes.)  If you have the time, do watch the video.

Since Brigid is also the goddess of poetry, we read Shel Silverstein’s Where the Sidewalk Ends, always a hit with the kids. We also read last year’s favorites A Little Bit of Winter by Paul Stewart and The Happy Day by Ruth Krauss, and enjoyed “Saint Bridgit and The King’s Wolf” from The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts by Abbie Farwell Brown.

I now understand a bit better what it means to celebrate these festivals, no matter how small they may seem.  Now that we have celebrated every festival for a year, I more closely feel a sense of the cyclical nature of time, the seasonality of the year and the comfort of ritual.  I have a better sense of the seasons, which can be hard to accomplish here in the South where it feels like summer eight months out of the year.  I hope I have passed this on to my children.  Even if they may not be able to articulate it, it is now a part of who they are.  A part of their childhood experience.

Here is the wheatgrass we planted just last week.  We have all enjoyed watching this grow, and are astounded at how quickly it has sprung up.

I showed The Girl only once, to place the bulbs in the soil, pointed side up.  You would have thought she had been doing it her whole life, the way she placed each one in the pot, with such great deliberateness, getting it right every time.

The Boy was more interested in the dirt and the watering.

We placed the pot on our winter nature table, in anticipation of spring.

I’ve been weeding beds and raking (who says gardening isn’t good exercise?) a lot lately.  The yard really suffered a lot of neglect since it’s been nearly two years since I’ve done any real yard work.  It’s great because the kids and I head outside and play, and I do a little work here and there.   So far this spring I’ve planted the following: petunias, vincas, white butterfly nepthytis, periwinkes, aztec grass, button fern, rabbit’s foot fern, and tricolor ginger.

From seed we have: moonflower, rock soapwort, nasturtium, basil, morning glory, and a wildflower shade mix.

I spruced up the hanging baskets.  I got the idea to line the baskets with leaves from an old Martha Stewart Living article.  I’m curious to see how they hold up.  I think this is good for plants that like to keep their feet wet because the soil does not seems to drain as well as it does with the coconut liner.

The herb garden: thyme, mint, rosemary, and basil.  I’m still waiting for the tomatillo and sage seeds to sprout.  I would love more than anything to grow vegetables.  I’ve tried, but I just don’t get enough sun.

That spiky looking thing is a pineapple we planted from the discarded top of a pineapple we ate last year.  I thought for sure it was a goner from neglect, but when I weeded the bed a few weeks ago, I found it alive and kicking!

Ginger flowers.  This I did not plant, I was lucky that it crept under the fence from my neighbor’s yard!

Ferns and lots of them.  These also crept under the fence.  Since we have mostly shade in our backyard, we grow lots of ferns.

Lots of shade means that grass refuses to grow on half the yard.  We finally gave up and put down hay.  The kids love it.

Morning glory flower.  This is from those seeds we planted a while back.

My garden friend.

I’ve been thinking so much about gardening and reading so many books and magazines on the subject that I actually had a dream the other night that a plant was growing out of my armpit.  Not in my armpit, but out of it, as if my armpit were its soil.  Either I’m thinking too much about plants, or my subconscious is trying to tell me something about my personal hygeine.