Tomato Seedlings

I've finished transplanting the tomato seedlings into their own separate pots. I started them off two to a pot, in case one of the seeds didn't come up, and now they're all at least an inch high, and some of them are nearly three inches. So I separated the twins and moved them into their own four-inch peat or coconut fiber pots. They'll go from these straight into the ground in mid-may. Normally, I would have already transplanted them in early April, but since I planted my seeds a little late this year, we're not as far along as we would be normally. But that's okay.

Since my experience last year, I'm getting better at recognizing signs of a baby tomato needing more nutrients. When they're still a healthy green but showing the faintest signs of their leaves tending to change in color toward a slightly olive tinge, that's a sign that they need more nutrients, like Miracle Grow or similar. Last year I did not know what was going on when the leaves began to turn yellow, but this year I'm all over it before it becomes a problem or stunts the growth of my tomatoes. This means a person who wants to head off a nutrient deficiency in baby tomatoes needs to pay very careful attention to the color of the leaves. It actually helps to have seen the plants when they're nutrient-starved, so I know what the difference in color looks like. Suffice it to say for those who haven't seen this, a tomato plant that is healthy and getting plenty of nutrients is nice and richly green. The color is vibrant and unmistakable. Any tendency toward an olive-green or yellow tinge to the leaves means that the plant is starving for nutrients, especially minerals like nitrogen, calcium or magnesium. Their color will start to go off long before they are in serious distress from the lack, giving you enough time to supplement their water with Miracle Grow or something else before the plants start failing. Tonight when I transplanted the babies into their own pots, I noticed a slight color change in some of the ones who'd been sharing a pot with a sibling, so I know that now that they're in their own pots, a little extra snack might give them a necessary pick-me-up. I also planted them with the dirt up around their stems a little higher, which will encourage them to put more energy into roots and not shoot up long and spindly. If all goes well, by the time I get them into the ground, they should be of a reasonable size and hardy enough to live out their lives in the garden.

In the next couple of days, I'm going to be fixing up their garden spots, adding crushed eggshell for calcium and finished compost for valuable nutrients. I'll add a little of our extra topsoil to make up for what came out of the bed when last year's dead plants were pulled up, and the beds should be ready to receive their new tenants when the time comes.

Furry Little Thieves

The mice are stealing my peas right out of the ground. They don't even wait for the plants to come up; they just dig the peas out of the ground after I've planted them. I heard that mice don't like mint, so I've strewn peppermint all over the areas where I planted the pea plants; I'm hoping some are still left in the ground and that this will allow them to actually come up and form pea plants. Otherwise, I'm not sure what we'll do.

I tried to bargain with the mice. I actually went out and sat near their area for a while, and talked to them. (Yeah, I know this makes me sound completely loony, but I had to try it anyway.) I told them they could share the wild sunflower seed with the birds the way they did last year, and if they stayed in their area, I'd leave the last few peas alone for them or even shell them and put them in their area for them to find. But it seems they don't understand me. One even came up onto the picnic table on the patio, and when I switched on the light, it sat there for a moment, staring at me with its big eyes--and this was within an hour of my attempts to communicate with them. I wasn't sure whether they were taking me up on my offer or defying me, but within three days, there was the evidence of more peas stolen from the planter boxes. So much for trying to work with them, Findhorn-style. Sigh. The Huz put out poison for them, and I hate to do that, but if they keep stealing the seed, none of us will have any of those delicious snow peas we enjoyed so very much last year. Unfortunately, what we will have is more mice.

Thank goodness they don't seem to care about the bean, cucumber, or carrot seeds. But I'll be very disappointed if we don't get any peas at all. They fed us all summer long last year; in September, we were still getting heirloom snow peas.

Sprouting Life

Yes! The seedlings are coming up. First it was the Chamomile, then the Carantan leeks and green onions. Then the cilantro and regular onions. Now the tomatoes are starting to come up--the ones from the free heirloom tomato seed I planted. So far, I have one Beefsteak, a Marglobe and a Marmande, (both great midsized slicing varieties), and the first of the Roma tomatoes. I also noticed that the parsley has broken the surface. No eggplants or peppers yet, but they'll probably be soon. I was a little late in planting this year, but the seedlings are every bit as important as ever--probably more so because we don't have the budget to buy already-started plants from a nursery unless we absolutely have no other choice.

Outside today, I caught the first glimpse of the tiny new spinach seedlings beginning to come up in the garden bed near the east fence--the same bed where we recently had to pull up all of last year's already-rapidly-growing spinach due to its contamination during the Boy Scout fence-spraying fiasco. My blessings on the new spinach seedlings; may they come on fast and hard and with ever-increasing vigor. May they grow rapidly to an edible size and then persist without bolting well into early summer, so that I can both feed my family and also freeze some for next winter's food. With our finances stretched so very thin, our little backyard garden has never been more vital to our survival.

Beyond the concerns of my own family, backyard gardens in general have also never been more vital. We all need to remember that, as genetically modified food continues to sicken and fatten people and endanger human life on the whole. I recently read about how the introduction of peanut genes into the most common variety of tomato used in many fast-food restaurants has already caused health concerns for people. Poor, unsuspecting people went to the fast-food place to grab a burger and happily munched down, never knowing that their tomatoes contained peanut genes. What's the problem with that? Well, it's a heck of a big problem if you happen to be severely allergic to peanuts! Think about it. They've let the genie out of the bottle, folks, and we may never be able to put it back. But we can at least try to curtail its effects by supporting heirloom seed companies, growing our own gardens and buying from local, organic and heirloom variety farmers. The only thing these big agribusinesses see or understand is money, so let's put the issue to them in a way they'll understand. Just say "no" to big agribusiness, huge chain grocery stores and suppliers (pushers) of genetically modified seeds. Vote with your hard-earned dollars and support people who care enough to support the planet. In so doing, you'll be saving your own health, and helping to save the health and ultimately the lives of future generations.

Vernal Equinox

It's the vernal equinox--or it was, on Friday. I got out the pots and the potting soil, and mixed it with a little topsoil. My seed-starting setup is almost ready. It seems fitting to plant seeds on the Vernal Equinox, even if that's technically a little late to begin. I'm not at all worried about that. It'll be fine. The best part was that the night air was in the high forties, so it felt reasonably warm outside while I mixed the soil, and the night air smelled wonderful. This year, there should be no chemical menace from either the neighbors or the Boy Scouts of America. It's spring, and it's time for a fresh start.

Free Seeds and a Natural Root Cellar

It's that time of year again; time to start the new seedlings. Actually, I probably should have started them sooner, but I think I jumped the gun just a little last year. It seemed like it took so long before I could finally get the seedlings into the ground last year that this year, I just felt like waiting a little longer before starting them. I'll be doing that this weekend, so I need to make sure I have all my pots ready and my whole setup ready for them. I'll need to buy a new gooseneck lamp to hold the sunlight bulb, because the other one fell or something and broke. Not looking forward to spending the money for a new lamp, but since we don't have any south-facing windows and the best window to start plants in is an east-facing one, I don't see another choice. I'll just get the cheapest one I can find that will do the job.

The younger daughter is going to help me plan and care for the garden this year, and she'll be helping plan local produce meals as well. We sat down one night and picked out which varieties of heirloom tomatoes we'd try this year, and sent off for some free tomato seeds from a wonderful website called www.wintersown.org. All it cost us was printing and filling out a form, and sending it to them with a SASE included. In return we got a decent number of tomato seeds of different varieties, and if even most of them sprout, that will be fantastic. With money as tight as it is right now, I'm just glad we already had so many seeds left over from last year. I needed to spend as little as possible on seed this year. Spinach seed, at least, is not a problem, as I saved seed from last year's plants and it comes up beautifully. I was also able to save a little winter kale seed and some radish seed. I had a couple different varieties of spinach seed and a couple different types of radishes, but I don't really care if the seed turns out to be a hybrid between the two varieties. It's all good, and it's naturally pollinated, not Frankenseed.

Also, I just pulled out several good carrots from the garden spot. They're perfect; no problem from having been kept in the ground all winter. So the problem of how to store carrots all winter isn't really a problem at all--I just have to get them whenever the ground is soft enough to dig them out without damage to them and the garden implements. Yesterday, they came out of the ground with just a smidge of wiggling, and I'm really looking forward to some of that good carrot/dill soup. There aren't any tops to speak of, but that's okay. It'll still be great.

Chicken Followup

Not a huge lot to tell here. I took it out of its package. I rinsed it with water. I winced at the way it felt in my hands and the way watery blood poured out of it along with with the water, but I got it into its roasting pan and sprinkled it with salt, pepper, sage, rosemary, garlic, and onion powder. The kids laughed at my antics, especially when the lid didn't want to sit down on the pot because the leg bones were sticking up--just like that scene in Overboard. But at least the chicken was already plucked and didn't have feet--because that would have been really gross. I cooked it for about 2 1/2 hours total, and it seems completely done and tender. It looks a lot less like a raw, dead carcass, thank goodness. But I still haven't cut it apart. I'll just let people carve things off it until the Huz comes home and decides to de-bone it. He'll only be gone another two days, so since it's cooked, it'll keep that long. I'm sure this won't be the only time I'll have to deal with dead poultry, and I'm sure I can do better, given time. It's just that the more time goes by, the less animal protein appeals to me. It tastes good, but it comes with too much baggage. Or maybe that's just me. Oh, well, I never claimed to be the perfect omnivore.

And then for some reason I just had to watch a vampire movie on HBO tonight. (Shakes head.)

I can't wait to plant the vegetable garden. Even so, it's just weird that no matter what, if we want to eat and live, something has to die, even if it's just a carrot. I think I prefer fruit; the apple might be consumed, but unless something went horribly wrong, the apple tree is still alive when we're done.

Go Cook a Chicken

Oh. My. Goodness. I am forty-two years old and have almost zero experience in cooking whole poultry. As in, plucked, hollow, sans head and feet, and frozen. Well, thawed, now. I can't remember ever cooking a whole chicken before, and the one time I tried to cook a turkey, it wasn't pretty. I'm used to cooking them after they've been cut up (by someone else, obviously) into their various parts. I have next to no idea what to do with a whole chicken carcass. I like my meat pre-cut, skinned, and pre-packaged. The easier to pretend is isn't really meat, my dear. I do not like this idea of handling and cutting apart a dead chicken carcass. It's disturbing me on so many levels. Maybe I should become a vegetarian. Except that I can't be a vegetarian--my body seems to crave meat protein on a regular basis; I just don't like to be reminded that what I'm eating was once a live bird or animal. I'm stressing out right now about this dead chicken. And it was even a free-range chicken, humanely processed. It just wasn't quite processed enough for me. All of my married life, I either bought pre-cut and skinned chicken, or the Huz cut it up and cooked it while I tried not to watch. But the Huz isn't at home right now, and will be away until the end of the week. He thawed out this chicken on Saturday and left it for me to deal with...and I've got...stage fright, or something. I'm pathetic. And the really sad thing is, I know I'm not alone. I know that many of my fellow Americans are likewise ignorant of such a basic thing as how to cut up a chicken carcass.

Gulp. I'm going to go do what the Huz said. I'm going to rinse it with water, put it in a roaster pan, sprinkle some salt, pepper and herbs on it and put it in a 350 degree oven for two-plus hours. Forget this cut-apart-the-carcass business! Yech. I'm being a total chicken about cutting up this poor dead chicken. But I can't waste it; it's food, and it cost money. Ahhhh.... Well, everyone has their quirks, I guess. Shudder.