Packets spread in piles on the bed, layers of seeds in paper pockets awaiting the first buzz of springtime. It just doesn’t feel the same this year. The temps are still wavering, the ground still bare; I could scatter some brassicas with a flick of the wrist and they might grow. I love the brassicas. This morning I was drooling over the kale, the vitamin green, the broccoli rabe. And arugula. So many packets of mouth-watering arugula.
When we had a farm in North Carolina in 2010, we ordered a lot of hybrid vegetable varieties, because we needed production. Now, our focus is resilience and we want to start saving seed this year. What to do with aging hybrid seed? Sprout them in lonely winter months, when you could die for a fresh kohlrabi or kale salad. Can’t wait.
Tomorrow: clean house and yard, and get the next step of the water system completed. She says it has something to do with caulking something or another, but I’m just the manual labor. I would love to have time to split some wood this weekend. And mend my leather bag. I wonder where I might find my thick thread and leather needle…