One of the plants stole my hand cultivator. There I was, minding my own business (weeding and such) and it was gone. And it stayed gone, too. No matter where I looked. No matter which plant I accused. It never showed up. Now there are five tools I use on the Farm—two each and every day, and yes, one of them is that hand cultivator. So, unless one of those plants fess up and give up the goods, I’m going to have to go out and buy a new one. Today. And when I do, when I bring out that new hand cultivator tomorrow for my daily weeding, do you know what will happen? Yes. The guilty party will confess all and there my cultivator will be. Front and center. That’s how it will happen. It has to. Oh! My tomatoes are in—did I tell you that? Yes. Well, at least some of them. Tomatoes are so important on the Farm that they are planted in several locations and in several ways, to ensure their success. It would be a catastrophe of the largest proportions to have no tomatoes on the Farm. Too much is made with them—the Sauce, of course, but also other sauces as well—BBQ sauce, Chili Sauce, Ketchup—you know, all the staples. So, sixteen little tomato plants started from sixteen little seeds some eight weeks ago were placed around the Outer Fence of the East Garden, surrounded by marigolds. These Tomatoes will be caged and tethered to the Fence will be placed in pots and strung to the Pergola—this is a new way of growing tomatoes that I am trying this year—all but the main stem will be pruned and them stem will be tied to the Pergola, some seven feet up. Apparently, while there will be less tomatoes produced, those that are will be of the Superior Type and Kind—and that’s just the type and kind I want. So, we’re giving it a try. The rest of the tomatoes will be placed in the West Garden, also surrounded by marigolds, only these will be grown the traditional way—in heavy duty cages.
In my digging and weeding, I have spotted all kinds of slugs and snails, so it will be a beer year for sure—meaning that every few feet in the garden there will be placed a shallow dish filled to the brim with beer. For some reason that pulls every snail and slug right in, right to their untimely demise. And then I give them to the chickens, who love it when it’s a beer year.
The corn is in as well, along with all the squashes. This year I’m growing sweet corn instead of dent, and more than just the Dickinson squash—Winter Luxury and Pennsylvania Crooked Neckers will join the family, at least for this year.
The Farmer is busy working on a new fence for the chickens and the ducks, in the way of a Mother’s Day gift for me. Right now they’re still in the barn (poor things) because we got a little a head of ourselves last Summer and tore out the old fence before we had a chance to put in a new one. Well, now we’re putting in a new one. And I think it might not just be as a gift to me—the Farmer has been spending quite a bit of time in that barn as of late to get that race care ready for Jacob, so I’m betting he wants those animals out of the barn as much as they do.
