The new deer fence has withstood numerous recent breach attempts by ungulates. All the juicy tender inhabitants of the weed patch are secure (for now). Most of our annual food and flower crops are in the ground and thriving despite our June-uary weather. Only three of the first batch Persian walnuts have failed since planting in April. The Japanese heartnuts are flowering the most delicate tiny red blooms. There is finally room in the greenhouse to put down a cup of tea on a flat surface. The honey bees are building up their numbers just in time for the Himalayan blackberry blossoms. There is no panic to irrigate since we’ve had plenty of rainfall. The tractor starts the second I turn the key. Two broody hens are sitting on 24 potential new members of the flock. The zinnias are taking off.
This is fleeting luxury.
Early June signals a gradual shift to calmness as the bulk of the seeding, transplanting, mulching and fretting over plant health draws to a close. Then we switch to the pulsing dance of harvesting, processing and storing produce which commences in, oh, about 45 days. The only true frustration at this present moment is our complete and utter failure at germinating carrots. The rows are scraggly, scattered and uneven. I could try again but am more inclined to just admit that this is one vegetable I don’t nurture well and have a terrible track record with. Needless to say it will NOT be part of the agroforestry projects’ alley crops! My young gardening apprentice (and Jedi-in-training) enjoys telling anyone who is interested that his mother “may be a good gardener but she can’t grow carrots worth a damn“. He likes to emphasize this last word by moving in closer to make sure you heard it. It’s the only time I let this particular word escape his lips in my presence. Thank goodness for the local growers of drop dead amazing carrots. I’m throwing in my carrot towel to revel in the brief respite of weed patch peace.