A little dryer

We've just had three fifty-year rainfalls in about a two-week period (and I sorta' think the third one was a hundred-year rainfall), with flooding all around us.

The garden dried out remarkably quickly, although the ground is still a bit squishy and I step carefully, for fear of sinking up to my neck.

The garlic was under water for about five days, but seems to be okay. I swear, the green tops continued to grow even during the flood.

Daffodils are in bloom, forsythia is at peak, and the chives (that I thought I might have transplanted a wee bit too early) are thriving.

Under water

The garlic is under water for the second time in about a week.

The garden slopes a bit (from left to right in the picture), so there's a big puddle in what is usually the main path into the garden. There are canals along the perpendicular paths, leading to the puddle.

Over the winter, the ground settled where the garlic is planted, so those two rows are canals now too. The early garlic is visible, looking a bit like rice plants, along the far edge of one canal. The regular variety is shorter at the moment, and entirely submerged.

Tomorrow's forecast calls for more rain. And snow.

Daffodils and onions

Signs that spring will, indeed, arrive eventually: the daffodils are coming up along the vegetable garden's fence, and I bought a bag of onions last week.

It pained me to have to buy onions. We had so many -- and such better quality -- but they did run out eventually. It's good to know that the red onions will, in fact, store until at least the end of February in my chilly kitchen. The last one was beginning to form a sprout in the interior of the onion (not visible outside), but was perfectly edible.

Spring is coming

I'm not sure I believe it, but if I say it often enough, I may start to believe.

Spring is coming.

I'm a little encouraged that the daffodils are up, and have been since mid-January. The pessimistic part of my brain insists they must have come up back in the fall, when the weather was mild until fairly late.

Still, spring is coming.

Getting started (again)

Last year, we spent about $170, and got 200 onions, 30 garlic heads, countless peppers (Ace and banana), a handful of yellow squash, a dozen spaghetti squash, the same number of butternuts, several handfuls of sugarsnap peas, a good amount of swiss chard, lot of herbs and a few cukes. Not exactly two households' annual consumption of vegetables, but a respectable return on investment.

Now, we're starting to invest in the new season. Last fall, I spent about $25 (can't find the receipt at the moment) on a new variety of garlic, and recently, for $77.80 including shipping, we ordered:

• 25 Purple Passion asparagus plants
• 200 Mars onions
• Alpine strawberry seeds
• Easter Egg radish seeds
• Peppino (hot) pepper seeds
• Chocolate sunflower seeds

In the spring, we'll buy plants from a local nursery for our pepper and tomato crops, along with another thyme plant and a few spur-of-the-moment items. We already have seeds for lettuce, tatsoi, cukes, squash (both summer and winter), basil, dill, swiss chard and nasturtiums; and we have the perennials in the ground: asparagus (the regular, green variety), catnip, sage, chives, garlic chives, mint and oregano.

Season extenders

I'm looking forward to experimenting in 2010 with season extenders like row covers.

The one season extension I'm already doing is simply growing crops that can withstand the weather. The pictured plants (not counting the equally hardy weed to the right) are tatsoi, and this was taken mid-December, after we'd had two slushy snow storms. The swiss chard was still growing too.

If you haven't tried tatsoi yet, I heartily recommend it. Without even trying -- these plants self-seeded from the spring crop -- I get two harvests, one in the spring (which goes to seed with hot weather) and an even prettier and more vibrant crop in the fall continuing into the early winter. If it had a little protection, I suspect it would grow through the whole winter.

Tatsoi can be eaten raw (the way I prefer it), mixed in with salads, or it can be steamed like spinach or other greens.

Holiday joy

Todd was "helping" me with a Christmas present.

My friends and family seem pretty good-natured about the fact that all their gifts come covered with cat fur. This one wasn't quite done (it's quilted, but the edges haven't been bound) when Todd burrowed into the jumbled project. I did wash it before it was wrapped and mailed. I had to leave it in the laundry room for the week between finishing it and mailing the package, so it was (somewhat) unfurry when it left here.

The kittens have been a joy since we found them, and, like young kids experiencing Christmas for the first time, they're reminding me about just how much fun the holidays can be. A friend sent me a (fortunately very sturdy) tree-shaped ornament made out of beads on a pipe cleaner.

"What you mean, is not toy?" says a shocked Todd (the orange kitten, pictured above).

"Best toy ever, actually," says Jazz (the calico), bouncing up and down in her enthusiasm. "Our human even knows the rules of the game. First, she puts it in a hidden spot. Then Todd digs it out, and I chase it."

"Oh, but the best part is after that," says Todd. "Our human screeches louder than a mouse, and then she plays keep-away with us, and then she hides the toy away again, so we can start the game all over."

Here's wishing that everyone will recover the joy of simple toys this season.