Hmmm . . . did we start seeds too early?

I don’t remember having this problem in other years.  (Should have kept better records . . .)

Seems to me we always started in late January, in the greenhouse. That’s what we did this year. And the more we planted from seed, the more that grew . . . Did we plant too much? Too many tomatoes, that’s for sure. Maybe give some seedlings away, especially those that are obviously groaning under the weight of their crowded roots. We can’t sell them, because we got mixed up this year, in naming trays of seedlings. Which kind of tomatoes are in this tray? Or that one? It’s anybody’s guess.

This is the first year we haven’t had a person directing the entire operation. Rebecca was here for ten years, and then Daniel last year. This year we’re on our own.

And I confess: the original mix-up in naming was mine. I was so involved in planting little seeds that I forgot which tray was which! 

We’ve decided that this is to be a year for experimentation. I’m sure there will be lots of other gaffes, as we transition into a truly group process, where everybody involved is taking responsibility for the whole. 

But it’s rough, getting started. For example, I want to watch a video called ElectroCulture Gardening. But have yet to take the time to do it. Will it be worth recommending to the group? I don’t know yet.

Okay back to what we’re doing here. Gaffes #1 (too many plants) and #2 (too many without names). Re: #2: it wasn’t just me; we have several trays we call “mystery trays,” because who knows what’s coming up there?

Okay, in order to tell the following tale, of gaffe #3,  want to do it in pictures. And to do so, I want to experiment with something I should have learned a long time ago, making collages out of photos. Camden pointed me to canva.com, a free site, that does this. So today was my first attempt. And what will take me, likely, ten minutes, once I get the hang of it, took over two hours . . . Oh well! My first stab at canva.com. Here goes.

TOO MANY SEEDLINGS!

And some of them, especially tomatoes, need to get out now! And kale will do fine in the ground, and we’re planting other greens, plus yesterday, we seeded a giant hugelculture bed that no has deep soil with root vegetables: carrots, beets, parsnips. We’d already put in some potato slips, about a month ago. 

Official planting time in south central Indiana: Mother’s Day, or May 15th. We’re way too early on some of them, though root seeds go in 4-6 weeks prior to the last frost, so we’re okay there. And I doubt the baby kale will be hurt. 

PLANT SOME OF THE SEEDLINGS!

But then, of course, the weather turned from wonderfully warm to cold, damn cold. And so shrouds were in order.  Six beds planted so far, and we’ve covered all of them — last night through tomorrow.

I’m very grateful to finally get going on a more creative use of photos. But it will take me awhile to get up to speed. 

Late March 2023: Board Games and Growing Pains

For the last several years, various people who have lived or do now live in the third GAPV house, have sponsored “game nights.” I would hear the buzz about these evenings, both before and after each one, but didn’t pay much attention, just stuck with my own personal routine.

After some months off, it happened again, Game Night. This time, when invited to at least show up for a snack and a glass of wine, I did, shocking myself more than anyone. And of course, was invited to stay. But though actually tempted, I demurred; and after about 20 minutes of listening to Sam and Camden (both at bottom right) explaining to the others how it worked, I took two photos, one of the players learning how to play the game (it’s a bit complicated), and another of the cover of the game. Then I, a creature of habit, went home. 

That was Friday evening. Then, yesterday, Saturday morning, Marita texted me, saying that they stayed up so late the night before that could we start our regular Saturday work party at 11 AM rather than 10 AM.

“Sure.”

So, at about that hour, three of us gathered in the greenhouse.

Joseph, who had come late to the game, was already out in the gardens working his designer magic.

For example, here’s how the front of the second house looks now, (still basically the “dead of winter”), with our mother elderberry bush between two trails up.

Very different than the tangled mass of yesteryear! He has little altars there, and invites birds and squirrels to visit.

That’s the street vieww. Here’s the side view. Notice how the goji berry bushes are just now greening . . .

Okay. Back to the greenhouse. While we worked to pot up some little fellers . . .

. . . Camden and Marita told me  what happened the night before. They had stayed up until 12:30 AM, with the last hour spent in wild improv! But before that they had played 7 Wonders the whole time (I left around 8:30; so three hours?)

Learning the game took awhile, but once they all got the hang of it, it was lots of fun; both of them mentioned how much of a surprise it was to find out who actually “won,” since you can’t tell while the game is on; there are just so many ways to gather points, and not all of them public.

I was intrigued. Decided to look it up online. 

Oh wow!

Introduced in 2010 by French game designer Antoine Bauza, 7 Wonders is the most award-winning board game ever . . .!

I told them I would join them next Game Night. 

But might we, please, start earlier, say at 7 PM?

Saturday work party: AND THE BEAT GOES ON

Not sure what kind of “beat” we are following now, as I haven’t personally absorbed the biodynamic approach to gardening, but Joseph has (he used to live on a farm with an old woman who followed this method) and we are following its planting schedule for our 2023 season. (Joseph has promised to talk about biodynamics a bit at one of our Community Dinners. Will have to remind him. Maybe this Thursday?)

For last Tuesday’s work party, we discovered that, according to the biodynamic calendar, there was nothing to plant that day, so we watched several videos on permaculture instead. (I’m the only one who has formally educated myself through the Permaaculture Design Course. But: there are plenty of internet sources now, to at least begin to learn. And: though I took the course, and absorbed its philosophy, which basically teaches us to recognize and interact with Nature as a brilliant, interwoven system, where everything is both related to and depends upon everything else, i.e., “all waste is food,”  I had little experience with actual gardening, and I still don’t really understand “timing,” especially as to when and how to “start” various plants in spring. So much understanding of the way Nature works comes with experience and practice. 

Okay, so enter biodynamics, for us, this year, since we no longer depend on an experienced “garden manager.” After our last one, Daniel, moved to be on his own in I think it was August 2022, we’re finally getting the hang of what it means to operate as an Aquarian group of equals, depending on each others’ strengths and deficiencies as we relate to what we’re doing here “on the farm.”

Yesterday morning, according to the Moon, it was time to plant fruiting vegetables; so we decided on okra, tomatoes and peppers. Two trays total.

There wasn’t enough to do inside the green house for all of us, so Joseph and Camden stayed in there to prepare the soil mix, make soil blocks and plant, while Marita and I headed out for a bit of “terraforming,” i.e., in this case, repositioning soil along the edge which is about to get a new fence. 

If you recall, that edge used to be where we kept the compost bins. We took them to the back yard of the third house a year ago.

Meanwhile, Joseph was out in front of the house he lives in, in the forest garden whose pathways he designed, pruning the queen of this little village, our wonderful elderberry.

So that was that. Two hours went by in a heartbeat.

This morning, I checked on the greenhouse, and found Camden and his girl friend Sam, at Marita’s instruction, removing the overnite covers (besides the covers, they were on heating pads (see the blue stretching out from below the right hand tray) and a fire Marita built for overnight), plus checking to see if any of them need watering this morning. No. Those covers kept them moist.

Until Tuesday, when it looks like we plant “roots” i.e., carrots, onions, leeks, beats — and potatoes?

Lots Going On, Despite Winter Weather!

Someone at last Thursday’s dinner asked me if we who live here in this three-house village eat together other than during our Community Dinners (which, starting this month we reduced from once weekly to every other week, for the time being), and I said no, because I, for one, couldn’t stand it. I need my solitude! 

She then said that even so, most people couldn’t live with other people the way you do. That they prefer to live alone. (A note here: it’s true that though we don’t share meals on a regular basis, we DO live together, in that each house has three bedrooms, for three people, with kitchen, living room, bathrooms in common.) I told her that for me, it’s a good thing because it forces me to deal with my shadow on a regular basis. Each time someone annoys me, I look to their behavior as somehow reflecting my own in a way that I hadn’t recognized. Once I re-educate myself, then the situation with the other, invariably, clears.  

Indeed, usually the other person doesn’t even know what’s been going on inside me! Which is fine, the less drama the better.

Lots of folks gathered, neighbors and friends, about 16, as I recall, including Sam, who came for the first time. 

Sam’s on the couch, next to Camden.

Then, on Saturday, we gathered again, those of us who live here, plus Neng and Ben, who want to join our work parties so they can become more familiar with permaculture.

We needed to find out whether or not we have all the ingredients for soil blocks for when we start planting in February. And we do! So nice not to have to purchase anything this year, not even seeds, since, I think I’ve said before, we are finally saving our own.

Plus, we needed to clear out a back room and reorganize it. 

Here’s Joseph and Neng. Joseph is still checking soil ingredients. Neng is hauling out a bucket from the back room.

And here’s Ben, hauling out another bucket.

P.S. It turned out that missing ingredients for soil blocks in the main greenhouse were all in that back room . . . Plus lots of other stuff, like four soil thermometers . . . Huh? Why? Because we have trouble staying organized, so we don’t always know what we already have. 

We did give Ben a chance to follow Marita out to the compost piles, to help her turn them, and thus learn something about that aspect of this operation.

And, before they left, I lent them Charles Eisenstein’s remarkable book, SACRED ECONOMICS: Money, Gift, and Society in the Age of Transition.