Self Control

This was going to be the year that I had self control when it came to plants.

I was only going to buy what I had space for and could immediately put in the ground.

I have this amazing grid garden with only so many places to put plants.

I would not overbuy.

At least that was the plan.

We honestly just went to the greenhouse to replace two plants that died. Two plants. One sweet pepper and one cantaloupe. That was all. Honest.

Our good intentions lasted until we saw the sign – all plants on sale.

My eyes lit up, my heart started beating faster. Oh baby, do I love a sale!!

My single sweet pepper became a four pack plus a different jalapeno we had never tried, two plants just in case.

I was losing control fast. At this point I needed my husband to be a voice of reason and common sense. Instead, he informed me that raspberry plants were also on sale.

Things went downhill from there.

We ended with a total of three flats of plants – including vegetables, raspberries, and perennials.

Of course they wouldn’t all fit in my garden, which is why I currently have four cantaloupe plants, 2 cucumbers, and an random watermelon that we felt sorry for, all growing in my flower garden.

Yes, my flower garden.

Because if you don’t have self control, I guess you should at least be creative!

A Day Late….

You’ve heard the saying “A day late and a dollar short”.

That is the story of my garden.

But then again, it can’t be the story of my garden because technically, my garden does not yet exist.

I knew – at least in my head – that early spring things need to be in the garden in the early spring. But I think the snow and cold lulled me into a false security, which left me woefully unprepared for the warm weather.

Of course my Amish neighbors were ready. When the sun finally broke through and the grass greened up, they watched their peas and lettuce burst out of the ground. They threw open their cold frames to reveal beautiful cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower plants.

They didn’t worry too much about the current weather, they knew that eventually spring would come.

And they acted accordingly.

Meanwhile, my garden remains untilled, my seed packages are sitting in the basement and my fresh lettuce salads live only in my dreams.

Somehow I lost sight of the fact of tomorrow in the midst of living today.

I forgot that winter doesn’t last forever. Spring happens. Always.

As I busied myself playing catch-up in the garden the last few days, I wondered just what other areas in my life have I been lulled into thinking that things would never change?

Are there relationships that need to be restored?

Forgiveness that needs to be extended?

Bad attitudes that need to be weeded?

Encouragement that should have been given?

Those cold dark season of life won’t last forever.

Let’s plant those seeds and wait.

Spring will come.

Always.

Sowing Bountifully

The garden is finally in.

It isn’t pretty but after a very wet spring, I’m just thankful it’s in the ground.

We should have let the soil dry for 2 or 3 more days – but we didn’t have 2 or 3 more days.

I had 12 hours to get it all planted before it rained again. And again. And again.

Parts of the garden were okay – barely. I planted my row crops there.

Other parts were marginal, in those I covered the seeds with a bag of top soil that we had purchased.

And in the parts that were pretty wet I dug a hole, filled it with the top soil, planted my seedlings and covered with more top soil. And prayed.

It wasn’t ideal.

I’m pretty sure my gardening friends are shaking their heads in disbelief.

But when it’s mid-May and you have no seeds in the ground and another week of intermittent rains in the forecast – you make it work.

At least I gave the seeds a fighting chance. Seeds left in the package will never bear fruit. Ever.

It made me think of the parable of the soils in the gospels.

“A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture. Other seeds fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred time more than was sown.” Luke 8:5-8

Can’t you just see that farmer, a large seed bag strapped over his broad shoulders, reaching in for handful after handful of seeds and with wide, sweeping gestures spreading them liberally across his field.

I’m sure he knew that some would never bear fruit. That they would be trampled on or eaten by birds or overcome by thorns. But still he planted.

Why?

Because he knew that some would.

Sow bountifully today dear friends. Sow seeds of kindness and love and forgiveness and grace and peace and redemption.

Sow even if the conditions aren’t ideal.

Sow even if the storms threaten.

Not all will bear fruit.

But some will.

And that makes it worth all the effort.

Garden Confessions

True confessions – I have not yet started a single seed for this season.

That’s right. Here it is the second week of March and there isn’t any sign of potting soil, seed pots or grow lights.

Nada.

Nothing.

And what’s worse – I haven’t even ordered my seeds yet.

Nope.

Not even one.

Last year’s garden was such a dismal, wet disaster that it’s hard to think about starting again.

I worked so hard and got so little in return.

A year ago I was filled with hope and expectation – it was going to be the best garden year ever!

But rain and more rain and even more rain drowned most of the vegetables and my excitement.

The weeds and bugs took care of the rest.

Nope, not gonna do it again.

But it feels like spring.

The sun is shining.

The temperatures are climbing and the warm breezes are stirring something deep inside.

You know… it’s not too late to start peppers and tomatoes…

…they are forecasting an early spring…

…and I can’t harvest what I don’t plant.

Besides, what would summer be without fresh from the garden veggies?

Okay – where’s my Baker Creek Seed Catalog?

I hope the tam jalapeno seeds haven’t sold out yet!

Do I still have potting soil?

Maybe there’s a flicker of hope in this gardener’s heart after all.

Squash-kins and Other Oddities

Remember how desperate this garden season was? How it just kept raining and plants kept drowning?

There for a while I wondered if I would have any produce at all!

So when I noticed a few volunteer squash plants growing in the garden – I let them stay. After all, at least I would have something from the garden – right?

I knew better.

Squash likes to cross pollinate.

In the back of my mind I was remembering the volunteer squash a few years back that looked like dinosaur eggs and was quite prolific. It took years to totally rid the garden of that useless and ugly ornamental.

But I was desperate this spring and I allowed them to stay, mentally glossing over the fact that they would probably go rogue.

This week buddy helped me harvest these volunteers.

And they are interesting.

We have spaghetti squash like pumpkins.

Pumpkin like spaghetti squash.

And my personal favorite – sweet dumpling squash pumpkins.

They’re like a sweet dumpling on steroids.

We’re calling it a “squash-kin” and think it’s kinda cool.

They’ll sure make interesting fall decorations and some unique winter eating!

Maybe going rogue isn’t so bad after all.

Nothing Planted, Nothing Gained

Seed There were no “ideal conditions” to garden in this year.

Our plan of action was to keep throwing seeds in the ground in hopes that something would grow.

So I sowed abundantly – despite the mud and the weeds and the nasty weather.

If I had veggies for every seed I put in the ground this year I could have started my own farmer’s market.

But many didn’t germinate.

And some of the ones that did were drowned out or overtaken by weeds.

But at least they had a chance to grow.

Unlike the many seeds still in packets that never even got planted, like the herb garden that never got expanded and the new flower bed that didn’t get dug up.

I had every intention of planting them.

But those seeds are still sitting here – at the end of July – with no chance of growing because they were never sown.

This week, as I worked my way through the forest of grass that is my garden, I thought of all the other “seeds” that I have not sown.

The note of encouragement that never got written.

The get well gift that never got delivered.

The offer of help that was never extended.

The word of counsel that wasn’t given.

The time in prayer that wasn’t taken.

The invitation that was never extended.

All those seeds that will never have a chance to produce fruit, because they were never sown.

Good intentions.

Noble thoughts.

Seeds of kindness and love and faith.

All waiting for ideal conditions that never came.

There can be no harvest when the seeds are never planted.

So I ask you – what seeds do you need to sow today?

And Hope Springs Eternal…

Just look at those veggies!

Aren’t they wonderful!

They would even more wonderful if I grew them.

Which I didn’t.

Some came from a local farmer’s market and some from my sister. (Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!)

It’s been a very discouraging garden year.

After our early success with kale and lettuce – we have had one disappointment after another.

Massive amounts of rain drowned entire crops.

More than once.

I’ve replanted tomatoes three times and the ones in the ground now are sitting in water after the heavy rain again over the weekend.

Cut worms devastated young seedlings.

Bunnies got through our bunny-proof electric fence.

And the things that did manage to grow were choked out by weeds that grew fast and furious because of all the rain.

We mowed the garden three times and just last weekend took the weed-wacker to it.

Yep. It’s been a rough gardening year here.

At times I’ve been ready to give up.

Then I think of fresh green beans and grilled zucchini and corn on the cob smothered with butter and a crisp watermelon fresh from the patch…

…and I go out and pull some weeds and throw some more seeds in the ground.

You never know – next week might be dry.

We might have a fabulous autumn!

Maybe we’ll have a late frost!

And hope springs eternal in the heart of a gardener.

Showing Restraint

Yesterday was a happy day. 🙂

I finally got to play in the dirt.

I’m not sure why it took so long to get my seeds started this year – but they are done now and sitting pretty in the sun room.

I check them every hour or so – just in case they sprouted already.

You should be proud of me – I actually showed great restraint in my planting.

Well – at least as far as tomatoes go.

I only planted thirty-six instead of my usual 50-60. But now I’m wondering if that’s enough? Maybe I should have planted more?

No worries about peppers though. I’ve planted seven different kinds. Five sweet varieties and two hot.

I guess I’m kind of obsessed with peppers right now.

And not just me! Jan ate a new variety over the weekend that he loved so much he spent a few hours researching it.

He finally found seeds in Ohio and bought me some.

He’s wonderful like that!

Now I just need to wait for them to come so I can plant them.

And for everything to grow.

And the ground to warm up.

And the Amish greenhouse to open so I can buy more plants and more seeds!

So I can plant more things!

I told you I was showing great restraint this year. 😉

PS: The seeds haven’t sprouted yet – I just checked again.

A Garden Search and Rescue

My garden – as our Amish neighbor’s would say – had “gotten away from us.”

T’was a mess.

I guess that’s no surprise considering a late frost – then lots of rain – and graduation – and then more rain and even some hail.

At least it’s planted – well most of it – thanks to my husband who added “help my frazzled wife plant the garden” to his endless list of projects this spring.

This week’s goal was to perform a garden search and rescue. Our mission – to find the vegetables and rescue them from the weeds.

The tomatoes and peppers were easy. They were well mulched and somewhat protected, so they are still looking good. We even have a blossom or two!

We discovered the first planting of corn and green beans – except for the last third of a row of beans that went AWOL. Must have washed away. We replanted.

The peas were pretty entrenched in grass and weeds. When we finally freed them, they rewarded us with several blossoms.

The onions and radishes looked pretty good, when we finally found them. And we were able to salvage some of the lettuce, but the spinach was pretty beaten up by the hail.

(Note – it doesn’t seem fair that the weeds right next to the spinach escaped hail damage – while the spinach plants were ripped to shreds. Just saying.)

But in all the hills of summer squash, spaghetti squash and zucchini that we planted just before graduation – there are only 4 plants. The rest of the seeds must of washed away. They’re probably in Missouri by now.

And then there’s the 140 cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower plants.

The poor things were mired in mud, beaten by hail, and over taken by weeds. They were in definite need of rescue.

It was a massive job.

A week full of muddy “character-building” hard work that our children should someday thank us for.

But we did it.

This mission is complete.

And Even More Extreme Planting…

Since we are into extreme planting these days (remember the 500 trees) – why not extend that to the garden planting?!

I guess if one buys hundreds of packets of seeds during winter snow storms, and then starts hundreds of tiny seeds in the grey days of early March, one should expect to plant many, many seedlings.

And so I did.

The 2 kinds of cauliflower, 2 kinds of broccoli, and 3 kinds of cabbage are in the ground.

Over 140 plants.

That is no joke. Jan counted them.

I’m either an overachiever or certifiably insane.

Or…maybe we just love cauliflower and broccoli.

At any rate, I should have enough cabbage to make sauerkraut for an entire German hamlet.

That is – if they actually grow.

And the bunnies don’t find them.

And the pigs don’t get out.

And the cabbage moths don’t infest them.

And the rains come.

And the creek don’t rise.

Okay – I’m certifiable.