I have no idea. But I can tell you that my potatoes are up. This time of the year I like to get up early and do a walk-about. I check the progress of the peppers and the state of the strawberries. It’s such a miracle to me. A few seeds and some rain and soil and magic happens.
I’m so pleased that my experimental potatoes, the ones I planted in a discarded basket and the ones I poked into a repurposed plastic bucket are doing well. The bucket had a lot of holes in it and the basket was only held together by some wisps of wire os drainage is not a problem. That’s good because it has rained a lot. I hesitate to complain as I know there are places that could use some water. This just isn’t one of them. Yesterday, we just said, “To heck with it”, and spent the morning in the garden. We got the corn, peppers and radishes in. We planted more carrots and beets and popped a couple of plants in the herb garden. After 3 hours in the muck and mud, we sere soaked and exhausted. It was the good kind of soaked and exhausted. The kind followed by a hot shower and a sense of accomplishment.
I know a few gardeners who wait for things to be perfect. They want sunshine and good soil. They won’t work when it’s too hot or too cool. They are waiting until they move to a place with better soil or until they can afford to hire someone to plow up the backyard. “When things get serious, I’ll grow some food,” is what they tell themselves. “Maybe next year, when my schedule is more flexible or when the kids go off to college”, are frequent excuses. My potatoes are there as an example of what you can do with next to nothing. I scavenged the containers. The soil was dug up from the back yard and the seed potato wasn’t. I just threw in some old, sprouting spuds. I move the pots around to catch the sun. When the sprouts get taller, I’ll cover them up with some old hay or crushed and rotted leaves or maybe some more dirt. It’s possible for an apartment dweller or a retired person or a young, single mother to grow a couple of buckets of potatoes.
My son’s girlfriend is from the Ukraine. He just came back from a visit there and commented on how few lawns he saw. These are people who lived through the collapse of the Soviet Union. They remember what it’s like to see empty shelves in the markets. They grow food in their yards. A few cabbages, some potatoes and beets. Maybe a patch of onions. Pretty soon you’re talking about real food.
I’m heading off to work and then stopping by the farm stand. I had terrible germination on Brussel Sprouts this year. We like them a lot and don’t want fall to come without any. I did manage to get the garden in without planting turnips. I don’t love turnips but they do store well and Bruce likes them. I guess my one empty raised bed will be full by this evening.