Anyone who grows food will tell you that climate change is real. It’s actually really funny to see how this plays out in the ultra-conservative Big Ag media like Western Farm Press, as the mostly-republican growers split with their party on this and immigration. How climate change ever became political is beyond me anyway, but then again I’ve never understood Republicans and I understand Democrats so well that I’m a registered Libertarian. But that’s a different story…
I thought I was on the ball this year when it comes to starting the summer garden, but nope, winter passed us by and spring feels like summer. So, while I’m sprouting kohlrabi, radishes, beets, and lettuce, I also have tomatoes bolting out of their cold frames, Lady Banks roses blooming alarmingly early, and trees that are budding and dropping fall leaves all at the same time. In terms of food production, warm weather is fine as long as we have water (also a different story), but next year I’ll need to start the winter/summer garden rotation even earlier.
Here’s a look at what’s going on around the farmlet this summer-spring we’re calling winter:
Although I haven’t really needed the frost protection, these cold-frame shelves Greg built are doing an awesome job of warming up my seedlings. Astute observers will note ample starts of my favorite tomato.
The kale looks all fluffy and happy after an application of blood meal, but it sure would taste a lot better if we could just get a little frost or two.
The bees have done so well since my application of miticide that I was able to split one of my colonies and raise a new queen. That little hive in front will go live with my brother in agricultural paradise (AKA Napa) in a few weeks.
The strawberry bed we started last fall is paying off. The slugs like it too.
Tomatoes. In March. I love tomatoes, but seriously WTF.
Alarmingly early gladiolas.
Replacement chickens, for the chickens that were stolen out of our garden. Yep, seriously, somebody stole our chickens. We were raising 3 boys for meat, and 3 girls to transfer to the main coop, in a portable coop that I was going to move to a different garden bed every 3 months for weed control and fertilization. They were only about a month away from butcher/transfer, and somebody came in the garden at night, peeled back the fencing, and took off with all of them. Crazy, that we live in a town so safe that kids can play in the streets and run around town unaccompanied until dark and everyone leaves their front doors unlocked like it’s 1950, but people steal produce and chickens. So Greg is building me a “chicken tractor” that we’ll padlock to the garden beds. Personally I’d love to get guinea hens because apparently they shriek when strangers come on your property. They’d fit right in with the incessant barking from all the neighborhood dogs.
Happy SpringSummerWinterMarch from my beautiful little ghetto paradise.