Status Report

Monkey off my back (that is, 5 months of heavier book update deadlines than usual) took me to the piano for a couple hours, a disappointing auction, our greenhouse, and the end of Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom, which our book club has been reading this month. The book club is down to two devoted members who read a "classic" each month, "discussing" it via emails as we go. May will be our first foray into science fiction, A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I suspect will be an easier read than Faulkner. If that author of some of the longest sentences in English literature were around today, I'd bet certain Confederate flag worshippers would like to aim their muskets at him.

"What about me?" asks Virginia.

No, they wouldn't aim at her. That's not what she means. Poor Virginia, she gets little attention these days, but she's always hanging about. Her turn will come.

While Karen installs an aquaponics system using our hot tub (see http://holesinmyjeans-kpannabecker.blogspot.com/) -- she's always up to something, isn't she? --  I'm trying to fill our greenhouse with life. Over 100 heirloom tomato plants wait for new homes. They are so ready, but I refuse to risk their well-being by transplanting them in this unpredictable spring weather. A frost last week stung my potatoes, although they're bouncing back. My pomegranate grove also took a licking this spring, having leafed during the early Spring fake-out. They're inching back, no pep in their resurrection. Carrots? What a disappointment. Three separate fine starts were nibbled to the ground by, I think, bunny rascals, who also did a number on a thick, even, kohlrabi stand. I may need to hook up our portable electric webbing.

Oh, but we have parsnips! I let them go to seed at the end of last season, then they sprouted in the fall, and now they're thriving all over the place. You won't find me complaining about volunteers like them, arugula, cilantro, lettuce, bok choy, and this year, salsify. Maybe someday my garden will plant itself. With Karen's aquaponics, we might not be pulling weeds, either.

Frost-Free Morning

Frost is free. It comes with no conditions, no fees. Kind of like toasters and certificates of deposit, we as consumers don't have any choice. Actually, with toasters and certificates of deposit, we have a choice -- take it or leave it. With frost, all we can do is take it (or leave it by remaining inside, I suppose).

"I think you're stretching this from nothing," says Virginia.

No, I think I need to tell you where I'm coming from, though. As some of you know, I've been reading a lot of articles about the Dodd-Frank Act (a/k/a financial reform or the banking bill), payday lending, and other sources of loans for folks who don't have accounts with banks (i.e., "poor" folks). Many of the authors talk about "free checking," except they don't seem to know that "free checking" has a specific meaning in the banking industry. If an account requires a minimum balance or imposes a per transaction fee, it isn't "free checking." The Truth in Savings Act and Federal Regulation DD make that very clear. The authors' misuse of the term "free checking" doesn't much matter, except it points out to those in the know that they aren't in the know.

"You're definitely stretching this from nothing," says Virginia.

All right. I give. Here's what I really had in mind for this posting, another garden tour.

Chinese Cabbage

Rouge D'Hiver Lettuce (I think)

Butterhead Lettuce

Beets

Doyle's Thornless Blackberry

Carrots

Parsnips

Rosemary

Frost has got to be among the best things that are free.

Promise

Promise, an indication of something favorable to come:

A garden does not promise, in the sense of assuring that something will happen.  A garden is never "mastered."  A gardener doesn't know what will come along -- a tornado, hail, windstorm, varmint, pest, disease, or thief-in-the-night.  Something stole our six 3-week-old chicks a few nights ago.  We naively thought they were safely enclosed in an antique chicken coop.  This, too, could happen to a strawberry...

or to future wheat berries...

 to my grove of young pomegranates...

or to the whole shebang -- flowering arugula (left forefront), cilantro, garlic, potatoes, carrots, peas and beyond.

Meanwhile, it's fun to watch green beans grow fast...

and parsnips big and tall.  This one, planted last fall, looks as if it may provide seeds for this fall.

The parsnips offer rich leaves and thick celery-like stalks.  Can we eat them?  Yes, but what will happen next?  Tony, in The Two SmallFarms Newsletter. Issue Number 270 - March 31st , 2004, writes: "...parsnip leaves are toxic and exude natural chemicals called furocoumarins. These toxins can provoke an irritating rash somewhat like poison oak if you get them on your skin or rub them in your eye. The roots don't carry the furocoumarins at all, but you will notice you never see bunched parsnips in the supermarket" (see the mention of parsnips in my immediately preceding blog entry).

On the other hand, on September 29, 2010, "Dustee Pines" wrote: "Parsnip leaves are absolutely lovely to eat! I enjoy eating them! I just made a batch of beet soup with them for supper tonight. I use the relatively younger leaves or the small to mid size. Wash them and chop them up and cook them in your favorite dishes. if the stalks are small, I use them and if they are large I just use the leaf. I am not partial to them raw -- just cooked. They add a lovely aroma and flavor to your food. I put them in mashed potatoes, soups, stews and savory pies! I am Alive and Well! I typically put them in recipes for a longer cooking time. For mashed potatoes, I put them in right at the beginning of the cooking time. For soups, I put them in with my other vegetables. So for chicken soup -- it is lovely! If you are not concerned about allergies, give it a try -- maybe in smaller quantity -- just one or two leaves to see how you do.~ Cheers to Beautiful Food!"

"She was alive then," says Virginia.  "Is she still?"

I'd bet on Dustee and her "give it a try -- maybe in smaller quantity."  Sometimes we're quicker to lean on legend than learn the truth.