My good friends and neighbors, Darin and Carla, are finally realizing their dream of opening a brewery–and we are so lucky, because it is going to be right here in Columbia Falls, Montana. I’ve been drinking Darin’s beer for years (especially fond of the Ginger)–and it is amazing. Everyone thinks so. Take a peek at the video on their Kickstarter page–and then consider helping them reach their goal.
I’ve been a bit remiss about posting pictures of the garden this season. Fact is, the garden looks fantastic! Best ever! We have wonderful plot holders who are committed to the upkeep of the garden.
We all walk around the garden looking at the various ways people grow their healthy food–and this, of course, is the beauty of the community garden concept. We get ideas from each other, we problem solve together and we celebrate our successful harvests. We get a little overly excited about when our beans sprout, and we become gravely concerned when a hole appears in the leaf of a new pepper seedling. We worry about chilly NW Montana mornings, and we stare endlessly at our gardens–contemplating the next chore, wondering why our potato plants aren’t as big as Robbie’s, and discussing the merits of rows vs. mounds. Should we use straw? Is the compost ready yet? Why won’t the mower start? Should I have done square foot gardening like Staci and Craig? Drip hoses or hand watering?
I love it! So here are some pictures of the garden in early June. Enjoy.
Check back in a few weeks–the changes will be amazing!
I love growing tomatoes. Hands down, they are my favorite yield from the garden. We eat them fresh, and can the rest. Such satisfaction! Last year, I started 12 Roma plants from seed during the first week of April. They were amazing, if a bit behind their local nursery counterparts. In fact, because I never trust my own seedlings to thrive, I bought 20+ “back up” tomato plants of different varieties–and then planted my dozen starts because they were doing so well. I put up 74 jars of tomato products. It was a banner tomato year.
Emboldened by my success, I started 36 tomatoes from seed this year during the first week of March. Now, understand–I have shelf with two grow lights as my set up, which works fine for a seed starting tray with 72 holes.
But guess what? Plants grow. And they need to be re-potted into six packs.
And then into 4 inch containers. It is rather a pain. Hoping I could get the plants into the raised bed, I held off on the last re-potting. But they were a tangled mess, falling over and breaking their stems. Still, I really thought I could hold out. Maybe I could make it to mid-May, as long as I covered them against the still cold nights. So silly–I live in NW Montana! You just don’t put tomatoes (or peppers or basil) into the ground until at least Memorial Day. Or, as the old-timers say, “until the snow is off Big Mountain” which some summers might mean mid-July. I vacillated about this for 2 weeks. My poor husband and my friends had to listen to me debate myself: re-pot one more time, or wait it out?
I decided to wait.
But then, as I was watering my beloved tomato plants, I noticed these:
Horrid little nodules on the stems. I used this picture, threw it into Google images and voilà! They aren’t good. The stress of the too-small containers were likely forcing the plants to create these root nodules. The nodules develop because the first line of saving itself is trying to throw out more roots to gather more nutrients. But this just wouldn’t do. I decided that I would just plant them out–after all, I could protect them with Remay and soil warming plastic, right? Well…even though we had just experienced 3 70 degree days, it was still too early. I knew it. But I rationalized that I couldn’t possibly re-pot all the tomatoes, and the seven of them that looked especially peakish would die anyway if I didn’t plant them. So I took the four of the least sickly of the sickly plants, and, without hardening them off (because who really needs to do that? Well, me. I need to do that) planted them in my raised bed. I covered the soil with red plastic, which I used successfully last year. I placed crunched up egg shells in the trench I dug, and placed the plants in sideways as is recommended for root growth. I put the tomato cage around the plant, watered it, and then wrapped the cage in Remay.
But you know what? It’s way too early to plant tomatoes. And they definitely need to be hardened off. And I should have just gone and found bigger pots. Because these are sad, sad little tomato plants.
The one on the left has a chance, maybe. Not really. I’ll keep you posted.
On the bright side, I went ahead and re-potted the rest of my tomato seedlings in anything I could find. Some of the less hearty ones needed to be sacrificed for the good of the whole, which was very hard for me to do. I feel guilty thinning carrots.
I found supports and tied my stems to them and look great. I moved some to a sunny window. Now my peppers have a little room, and I imagine I will be re-potting them next weekend.
What is the moral of this story? Wait two more weeks to start seedlings. Maybe three. And unless you have lovely hoop houses, don’t put tomatoes out when it is 50 degrees with wind and rain.
I just finished knitting Hazel’s birthday top, using a modified “Fiona’s Top” pattern.
I’m not sure I love the way the increases show in the yarn, but they were less noticeable after blocking, and will probably become even less apparent after a few washings.
I decided, after several suggestions from friends, to start an Etsy shop. It isn’t a big deal–I just listed a few extra knit items I have and the lip balm I make. I’m really not convinced my stuff is actually good enough to charge people money for it. When friends and family say they like my things, I always assume they are just being nice.
I have trouble setting prices. As anyone who knits knows, if I actually charged for my time and materials, no one would buy my knits due to the cost. I recently listed a baby tunic in my store. This one piece took me two years to complete because I struggled with the lace pattern, the small needles and the lightweight yarn–it wasn’t something I could do with other people in the room, or with regular interruptions–I had to count stitches! I kept putting it aside and coming back to it. I probably made and remade the thing 6 separate times. If I used minimum wage to determine the price, not even including materials, the cost would be in the hundreds.
Last week I was asked specifically to make something for a friend, and I did–so why did I feel ashamed specifying a price? She didn’t seem to think what I asked was too much. Other items are relatively easy to make, so I feel stupid charging people because they could seriously make them themselves. Yet my sister-in-law says that even if they could, not everyone would, which is why a pair of boot cuffs (that take about 2 hours to make) sell for $20-30…and people actually pay that.
I had a conversation with a friend this weekend about how hard it is for me (and her) to self-promote. She has to as part of her job, so she’s learned, as she says, “to fake it to make it”. However, I am definitely passive aggressive in my approach (writing a blog post about it? Soooo passive aggressive!). I’m confident in other areas of my life, so why am I having such a hard time with this? Other people sell their crafts regularly, and I don’t think anything of it, so why do I care so much? Is it a Midwest thing to feel like promoting myself is actually self-aggrandizement? (By the way, I would never mark my own post as “super-awesome”–why is this even an option, WordPress?) Since I am trying to work through this, I am going to go ahead and link this post to my Etsy store, SixthStreetKnits. And blush while I do it.
Who else struggles with this?