Of Peat and Potting On

Monday morning, right around 9am when he'd said he'd arrive, the peat moss driver showed up. He'd picked up the loaded trailer on Friday evening in Canada, and drove it down to us. Sadly, which here, his brakes stopped working, and he had a several hour delay while he waited for new hydraulic lines to arrive. (He's been driving for eight weeks, and has had brake downs three times!) I don't often feel irritated with our cramped quarters, but in such a situation, I wish we had a place for an unexpected guest to relax. Thankfully, he was able to drive up around the corner and pull off the road.

Butch came at 9am, cigar in hand, ready to work. He moved the bales down close to the garden site.

The twenty 8' tall bales, stacked side-by-side, easily overshadowing the greenhouse.

Before Phil can start to plow, we need to move the animals. Before the animals can move, we need more fenced area. The two heifers we'd prefer not to breed yet are in the lower pasture. We need to move them out, so we can move the other animals down. So Phil spent Monday afternoon trying to get new pasture fenced in.

And he got a flat tire on the truck, so took it to Scottsville for repair. Sadly, it was sidewall damage. Happily, he was planning to bring Buttercup up to be bred tomorrow, so he will just drive up with the spare on, then buy new tires at Costco. Trying to find the leak, and the subsequent trip to Costco, took most of his day today.

I spent an hour or so yesterday trying to get soil blocks made. The asparagus had not, actually, sprouted (good thing! if it's supposed to take 14 days and it only takes four, that's a bit too surreal for me). The red onions, though, are coming up well.

After an hour, I quit in frustration, without a single soil block completed. My brand new professional soil block maker (above) was failing me. A little research in the evening showed me that I was working with soil that was much too dry. Rather than the consistency of peanut butter, my soil was more like pie crust, before the final addition of water to make the crumbs cling together.

Today, with sunshine and renewed hope, I had no difficulty making delightful 1.5" blocks. I had been concerned that the little blocks I made last week would crumble as I transplanted them, but they didn't. They were remarkably stable. I was also stunned to find that rootlets were already growing out the bottoms of some of the tiny blocks. I got them potted on in good time.

Many of the gardening books say that "onions greatly dislike having their roots disturbed." I'm curious to see what that means. Will the onions, having been moved to larger quarters, now universally die for spite that I have touched their hidden parts? Will only the unsprouted seeds actually grow?

Time will tell, but for now, I asked the Lord's blessing on this nascent garden.

I also planted 40 parsley seeds and 60 seeds of mixed greens that, apparently, do well in spring (a few lettuces and mustard greens, and a spinach). It still boggles my mind that these little seeds, many of which were stuck to the sticky part of my seed envelopes, will grow large enough to feed my family. How can that be? How can I take ten little lettuce seeds, combined which could sit on top of an apple seed, and expect nine or ten heads of lettuce? Or even a bunch of cut and come again leaves?

Assuming it happens, it's a miracle.

I woke up yesterday and thought, "I need to get Jadon working more, independently." I gave him a list of tasks, and he, being Jadon, diligently works down his list. I asked him to copy a verse in Colossians each day, and I am thrilled to see how well his printing has progressed, even since the beginning of 2011. Wonderful.

Isaiah made his younger brothers robot helmets today. He punched holes in boxes with two nails until he could tear out the cardboard. Very persistent fellow, that Isaiah. Above is Abraham's, with both eye and arm hole. Below is Joe, with a full-face hole.

Abraham says (often very obvious) things in such an enthusiastic voice, it's hard not to smile.

And Joe has become a mimic overnight, repeating whatever he finds funny. His jeans were sagging yesterday, and Phil said, "Droopy drawers!" and Joe walked around saying that, in a deep voice like Phil had used. Then he cracked himself up.

That may be one of the funniest things children do. All the boys have done it, albeit rarely, but when they get a good belly laugh going because of something they themselves said or did: what a jolly time we have.