Sown and Seeking a Moist Light

I don't know; maybe it's the seeds, maybe it's the soil, or maybe it is simply the proprietary sense of bonding that grows between the fragile little stems and the one who buries their roots in the garden.  I only know that I am starting to sound like a farmer.  I know this because I have begun hearing myself complain about the weather.  First there was too much; now there is not enough.  The former delayed my site preparation and sowing; the latter means I now spend considerable time schlepping a garden hose over and around and at great lengths.  But it's worth it.  As of day-before-yesterday, the planting was complete. 

Cinnamon Basil Sprout

For old times' sake I had started with the PVC pipes, lovingly if awkwardly transported in the move from our townhome and reestablished on our deck.  There three different basil varieties are sprouting, plus dill and chives.

Tube Planting

Down the row the herbs are joined by a few pepper and tomato varieties.  All in all, it will make, I hope, for a quite nice kitchen garden.

Sprouting Collard Greens

Then, a week ago the naked seeds of beans and squash and cucumbers and miscellaneous greens -- collards and chard and six different lettuces -- went into the ground; subsequent days moved most of the greenhouse seedlings from shelves to carefully spaced homes in the soil.  To my mild surprise, the seeds are actually sprouting -- witness the determined little collard greens.

The tomato plants were the final hurdle -- and not an insignificant one.  I had...how shall I say this..."several."  There were, for starters, 9 different varieties -- some I had heard of; others are discoveries that sounded like appealing enough experiments.  The seeding project had resulted in...that aforementioned "several."  Supporting tomato plants is always a challenge, and every grower seems to have a favorite system, from commercially available wire cages to bamboo teepees, homemade encirclings made from fencing rolls.  A recent article in Mother Earth News lauded the virtues of steel cattle panels -- 16-foot heavy wire panels that can be positioned with steel posts in a way that resembles free-standing fences.  A farmer friend who had no possible reason to be so generous rustled up 10 used panels and dropped them off a couple of weeks ago.  Lori and I wrestled several into position; I managed a couple more, and Daddy and I finished the job.  A quick trip to the craft store secured a gross of pipe cleaners -- my idea for a simple way to tie the growing tomato plants to the panels.  All that remained was the planting. 

Tomato plants on Cattle Panels

By this time my parents had arrived for a visit, and tomatoes became the chief preoccupation of my Dad and I.  We got the first 50 (which begins to reveal the truth of the matter) set in place and tied on Monday before wearing out.  The final 50 or so found their new homes on Tuesday.  One-hundred tomato plants.  Crazy, I know.  If things go as planned we will be eating our weight pasta sauce, salsa and BLT's.  On second thought, I hope we don't actually weigh that much.  Beyond that, we'll have to see.

All I know for now is that the ground is full.  The seeds are soaking up whatever moisture they can find in order to swell into the daylight.  The transplants are sturdily reaching upward and outward for sunlight while their tentacle roots dig down for nourishment of a different sort. 

And I am watching the sky, praying for rain.  Feel free to join me in that endeavor -- but be careful.  I would hate to have to complain about floodwaters washing away the seeds.  So, gentle showers if you please -- nicely spaced about every couple of days.  That should do it...

...until I think of something else to worry about.