At least we managed to get the spring
garden in this week, and the asparagus is coming up, the asparagus
whose roots went in last year, and now the jerusalem artichoke and
echinacea in the perennial garden are making their appearance
alongside the horseradish and rhubarb. It sounds impressive. Maybe
it is impressive. Already it's easy to see how much farther we are
than at this time last year.
Every year it gets better, more
accomplished, more precise. Last week peas, radish, chard, kale, and
carrots all went in. It's actually early enough for a lot more, but
it's also already easy to begin to wear out on digging up weeds and
take a breather. I'm starting seeds in the glassroom, just basil and
lettuce, but Thai basil this year.
It's easy to believe that already
that's enough. I know that just the half-row of chard will be enough
to keep me in greens through October. And the amount of carrots that
got put in has quadrupled—in addition to all carrots planted last year that lasted in the
crisper through last month. The north garden can be filled with the
six pounds of onion sets I bought at Maine Potato Growers this week.
I begin to see how farmers specialize.
If the only goal was growing garlic, all that would have to be done
now is weeding, cultivating, harvesting, preserving—a job enough,
but when you do that for every vegetable you want to eat, it's a lot
more work. I'm trying to commit this year not to judge my
success against the ideal, but just to try to do a little each day.
It's amazing how much I accomplish with a consistent hour.
But isn't it the way with everything?
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