Yesterday was March 17th! Aside from being a super very fun holiday, it's also tomato sprouting day in these parts! Yes, I get excited about tomato sprouting, so you all get a liberal use of exclamation points to start off this post!!!!
Phew, maybe I got that out of my system.....maybe....
Anyway, before I got cracking on tomato seed starting, I had some unfinished pepper business to attend to. When I started my pepper seeds, I had some old Long Cayenne seeds that I threw in the sprouting pie plate on a if they sprout, cool whim. Out of the ten seeds I started, two did their sprout thing, which considering the age of the seeds was a total win!
So, before I got busy in tomato-land, I transplanted two cayenne sprouts. I have high hopes for them because of how long it took for them to germinate. It's like they were determined to come alive. I think I am going to name them Frankenstein and Frankenweenie.
Moving on, this year I restrained myself and only started about 150 tomato seeds. I still have slight heart palpitations about the year I started over 600 (and planted 300!). Don't worry though, I am only going to plant about half of those tomato plants on the farm, I tend to give away half of everything I start. My friends like it.
One of the thirteen varieties that I'm really excited to try is the heirloom Large Barred Boar. Honestly, I just love the name. Not all tomatoes get eaten around here, in the late summer/early fall when I am harvesting endless fruit, sometimes an especially large tomato will have split, and I cannot wait to yell, Feel the wrath of my LARGE BARRED BOAR! as I hurl a juicy tomato bomb at some unsuspecting heathen within my range.
I usually need a bit of a reprieve by the end of summer. Tomato chucking therapy helps. It's the splat sound as it hits a target that does it for me. Sooo healing for the over-worked soul.
Aside from its therapeutic value, the Large Barred Boar has a lot going on for it. It's early to ripen, a mild-flavored beefsteak, a prolific-producer, and a, good choice for marginal tomato climates. My climate laughs at the word marginal. Most of the time my farm is closer to Mars on the hospitable to tomato scale of growth conditions.
And most important of all they are STRIPED! I mean, the weirder looking the better when it comes to my favorite growing things.
Before you could say productivity proclivity I had all my tomato seeds ensconced in their damp paper towel sprouting homes and set on top of the fridge. It feels so good to get on with spring chores. Like coming out of hibernation but without all the sleep and weight-loss. Wait, can I have that weight-loss and sleep?
Dreaming aside, I needed to go out and do chores after starting the sprouts, and since I had decided to do something important, of course I got distracted by this:
Come on! Who wouldn't get distracted by that scene of cat-cutery! The girls really know how to work a cuddle pose.
After slipping on my barn boots, I almost skipped out to the garden. First though, I stopped at the greenhouse and surveyed my next gardening job. I need to sow some cold weather greens in there, but the little spinach plant leftover from my last batch of greens made my day.
Speaking of day made, check out this other sign of spring! My little crocus bulbs are peaking through last year's dead garden detritus. Ugh, I need to get raking. But seriously, the snow just left my yard exposed two days ago, I'm gonna get to it!
My real destination was the garden. As my gait reached peak enthusiasm (I looked like I was having an electroshock therapy sesh in motion I reckon.), I noticed the horses were looking at me in a rather strange way. See, I had already fed them earlier, so they were probably confused as to why Mom was back out in their zone, but don't worry, once they realized I was on a non-food bearing mission they resumed snacking on their hay.
My sightseeing mission was one of delayed gratification therapy. Last fall the hubs and I seeded 80 row feet of garlic, both hard and softneck varieties. With the straw mulched row now visible, and us having a couple of fifty degree days in a row, I wanted to see if anything was peeking out of the mulch.
Seriously, I am over the moon about all those growing little bulbs! Garlic is one of my favorite things ever, and I have a dream about roasting some fresh bulbs and spreading it on a toasted piece of homemade sourdough and drizzling the whole thing with olive oil.
But as I wandered back to the house and stopped to check on the sprouting rhubarb, it occurred to me that July will be here before I know it and I better get my flintlocks into gear. Spring has definitely sprung and my friends, I am on a the run!
And as most of the time, all of the images in this post were taken on the author's not quite as wound as she is about the season change iPhone.
