The peas look OK, but sort of haggard. Right now, they only have bamboo poles to grab on to and I think that the poles are too fat for the peas to grip. I think they need string.
The beans look dreadful. I don't know if they'll make it. Of the three plants I put in, only one has any leaves at all, and those seem to be in imminent danger of getting knocked off somehow.
The beets look almost exactly the same. REALLY not sure what to expect from them. I hope I get a chance to put the seeds in before we go away. I would hate to miss the season altogether.
I had a longish chat with another plot gardener, Mary. She gave us the onions. They're Egyptian walking onions. Her plot has many bunches of them. She also has some really good-looking garlic coming up. It puts ours to shame.
She asked about our plants; not surprisingly, she wanted to know how we came to have things popping up so suddenly. She said that sometimes the things grown on windowsills are too leggy and they don't flourish in the garden. This, I didn't know. She also said that hardening off is an art unto itself. I know so little about hardening off, and I am doing such a crap job of it, that I am willing to believe that there are subtleties, but on the other hand, I think for now I am happy to be the inconsistent gardener and do what works for me. To hell with what works for the plants.
Sure, I'll be sad if there are no beans this year. I'll be CRUSHED if there are no beets or peas. However, this is a hobby. I have a tendency to try to become a whole-hog expert in what I do. This isn't entirely a negative thing. Being good at things is something to strive for. On the other hand, being not good at things is something to deal with. Enjoying things that you're not good at is an art unto itself. (I learned that from 3-pitch softball.)
So, all in all, I'm glad I had that educational chat with Mary. I'm not sure that I learned what I was supposed to, but these little reflective moments are what the blog is all about.
No comments:
Post a Comment