…she taunts us and toys with us, raises our hopes then grinds us into the dirt. And she’s at it again. I woke this morning to blue skies, the kind of sky that greets me in the spring and summer months. It was clear and fresh, washed clean by four days of steady rain. The temps were higher today, nearly 60. The kind of day that makes you want to go out and plant a new bed of salad greens or start that building project you’ve been putting off, but suddenly you remember its December, been raining, cold and the outside world can be a fickle bitch right now. As much as I’d like to be down on my knees digging in the dirt I hold myself back, telling myself that it’s a death wish to plant much of anything this time of year.
I satisfied my lust for gardening by paging through the seed catalogs I’d already received, circling and marking varieties of beets, beans, lettuce, corn and squash I want to plant in the spring. I poured over descriptions of new vegetable varieties to see if anything peaked my interest.
The more I travel down this path of homesteading the more I find myself paying closer attention to weather reports than any other kind of news. From first thing in the morning till late in the evening I haunt the radio for news on what’s in store for us on the weather front. As farmers we live by it (the weather), plant by it, harvest by it, care for our animals by it. It’s what helps make us a success as a homesteader or a complete failure. After a while we learn to “read” the weather, a coming rain storm might make us tingle or our body feels the pressure before the onset of a heat wave. It’s strange to know (feel) the weather before it hits, but it also helps us prepare for it.
As the morning drew on, clouds rolled in over the mountains to the north. Dark and gray, they had an ominous look to them. The next wave of storms I suspect. At mid-morning I put together a pot of split pea soup and made a loaf of pumpkin bread, (lunch for the coming week), and settled into a quiet day at home, just me, the dogs and a good movie. By night fall sprinkles returned and it looks like my trip north will be postponed once again.
I like this weather though, as much as I’d like to be out in the dirt, the rain suits me just fine.
I satisfied my lust for gardening by paging through the seed catalogs I’d already received, circling and marking varieties of beets, beans, lettuce, corn and squash I want to plant in the spring. I poured over descriptions of new vegetable varieties to see if anything peaked my interest.
The more I travel down this path of homesteading the more I find myself paying closer attention to weather reports than any other kind of news. From first thing in the morning till late in the evening I haunt the radio for news on what’s in store for us on the weather front. As farmers we live by it (the weather), plant by it, harvest by it, care for our animals by it. It’s what helps make us a success as a homesteader or a complete failure. After a while we learn to “read” the weather, a coming rain storm might make us tingle or our body feels the pressure before the onset of a heat wave. It’s strange to know (feel) the weather before it hits, but it also helps us prepare for it.
As the morning drew on, clouds rolled in over the mountains to the north. Dark and gray, they had an ominous look to them. The next wave of storms I suspect. At mid-morning I put together a pot of split pea soup and made a loaf of pumpkin bread, (lunch for the coming week), and settled into a quiet day at home, just me, the dogs and a good movie. By night fall sprinkles returned and it looks like my trip north will be postponed once again.
I like this weather though, as much as I’d like to be out in the dirt, the rain suits me just fine.
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