|Cilantro form the cold frame, this has been growing all winter|
|Blood root, these grow all by themselves in my back "wilderness"|
|Chives are up!|
|Leeks in the cold frame|
|Sugar Snap Pea Shoot|
|Lettuce coming up in the Cold Frame|
|Last fall's chard and some volunteer cilantro in the cold frame.|
We're just excited. And incredibly, unbelievably, remarkably impatient. I am so impatient for all the experience it takes decades to have that if I were to be magically zoomed there, I would have missed two or three decades of my life. Like the whole middle. Obviously this is not what I really want. I don't actually want to miss my entire life. But things do seem to drag on so. However, when I look back, we've only been learning about this sort of thing for three years--this is our third year trying to grow and preserve to live--and we're doing alright.
The other thing that creeps up on me in the spring is the land we have. Oh the land we have! It is a small patch, located perfectly for our current needs. But it is small and it is covered in invasive species. Most notably japansee knotweed and goutweed. These are tricky ones because there isn't really a way to get them out other than patience (see above) or a back hoe and 50 yards of fill. There is a creeping marital (ahem) conversation that happens about our locale. It revolves politely around, money, needs of children, proximity to work, family, and friends, space, and our plans for the future. This conversation is a fat spider and her web is spun in between a lot of scary and potentially volatile posts. Whenever it is brought up I feel like a helpless fly. So it doesn't get brought up too often in earnest. But in the spring, when the land looks promising and it isn't overgrown in all the areas we haven't gotten to yet I feel so hopeful. But after a short walk around and I see all the plants coming up that will inevitably make it less possible for me to have as many gardens as I'd like, I think, "This place will not be able to do what we want it to do. And then out loud to my Hubby I say, "This land can totally do what we need it to do, we just need to be patient, you know." Recently I decided that two small pigs are the answer to my invasive woes. We'll see how that goes. That would be a project for next year, since this year I think we ordered like 4,000 chickens or something.