My Greenhouse Management Technique Borrows a lot From Cezanne.
We're getting down to business here at Let It Grow. It's seed starting time, time for seed starting and starting seeds we are. A bit late this year, well, a lot late this year, but this train is finally starting and it will not be stopped. The incubation house is full of trays and the tables in the greenhouse are filling up. We're starting the usual spring transformation from swaths of brown potting soil to swaths of green seedlings. It's the colors I mostly focus on, and then the shapes.
The UPS truck is showing up just in time this year - I'm walking from the driveway to the greenhouse tables and emptying the box, searching for the right packet and doling out the seeds into their assigned little cells in one continuous motion. I'm patching holes in the plastic as I set trays and repairing heaters as I need them. It's going to be a just in time kind of a year. But God is smiling on us. Yes, we're late getting things started, but we choose the coldest year since the demise of the mastodons to be late. Had I gotten everything fired up when I usually do, I'd had already spent more on greenhouse heat than I did in all of last year. All these disasters disast for a reason, is one thing this farm proves over and over again. I may not want to be in the midst of twisted and unusable greenhouses, nor want the fields to be saturated beyond hope, but it's all pointing me to a place where I need to be. I stopped fighting it long ago - buy the ticket, take the ride. This year its been more challenging then most to stay on the path. I've been close to cashing everything in more than once. But I remind myself to enjoy the ride. I've inherited more than twenty thousand seed trays, and they all must be filled.
Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks. William Carlos Williams said that.
I'll start seeds as they arrive in the mail and plow the soil as it dries out. I'm getting the better of the deer. Most of the equipment works.
The greenhouse is atop a muted gray gravel. The tables are brown and angular, pointing up and
aside at the same time. The brown swath is feeling kinds good right now. It'll turn to green.
The UPS truck is showing up just in time this year - I'm walking from the driveway to the greenhouse tables and emptying the box, searching for the right packet and doling out the seeds into their assigned little cells in one continuous motion. I'm patching holes in the plastic as I set trays and repairing heaters as I need them. It's going to be a just in time kind of a year. But God is smiling on us. Yes, we're late getting things started, but we choose the coldest year since the demise of the mastodons to be late. Had I gotten everything fired up when I usually do, I'd had already spent more on greenhouse heat than I did in all of last year. All these disasters disast for a reason, is one thing this farm proves over and over again. I may not want to be in the midst of twisted and unusable greenhouses, nor want the fields to be saturated beyond hope, but it's all pointing me to a place where I need to be. I stopped fighting it long ago - buy the ticket, take the ride. This year its been more challenging then most to stay on the path. I've been close to cashing everything in more than once. But I remind myself to enjoy the ride. I've inherited more than twenty thousand seed trays, and they all must be filled.
Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks. William Carlos Williams said that.
I'll start seeds as they arrive in the mail and plow the soil as it dries out. I'm getting the better of the deer. Most of the equipment works.
The greenhouse is atop a muted gray gravel. The tables are brown and angular, pointing up and
aside at the same time. The brown swath is feeling kinds good right now. It'll turn to green.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home