Ahoy, the storm!

The hatches are battened, and I certainly feel like I got a workout today.

Rain is predicted for the next few days, and after a week of dry weather, the soil had finally stopped being soggy. I remember this problem -- things don't dry out long enough to actually get anything done until April, when I'm supposed to be planting. Then it's a mad scramble to get everything done.

Solution: I traipsed over to Home Despot and bought a pack of very cheap dropcloths, about $1.50 each. I sliced them in half, for a 6'x9' square, then spread each half across the paths to cover one segment of two beds. A few rocks to weigh them down, and we're ready to keep the soil dry in the face of the oncoming storm. A side benefit is that the clear plastic will help warm things up. As I get to each bed, I'll be able to peel back the plastic, dig out the bed, amend, and put it all back.

I stopped by E.J. Phair today, to try to catch Morgan and ask when he was brewing next -- and was greeted with a very, very familiar smell. I grew up with that smell. I found Morgan sipping a beer as the vat came up to temperature, told him I'd be back, and brought over the two six-gallon buckets. The spent grain was still steaming and smelled wonderful. I packed the buckets full, chatted a little more, then lugged them back to my car -- two buckets makes me balanced, but at 50+ pounds apiece, that's enough to make me feel the pull in my shoulders.

I put down the dropcloths, then dug two sections of one bed and dumped a bucket of grain into each. I finished up in the dark -- I can rake the beds smooth later -- but that's four slots amended now, and I have empty buckets. Morgan told me he'll be brewing again tomorrow, so I can get more mash tomorrow afternoon. It can wait in the sealed buckets until the rain stops again.

When I tested the soil to see whether it was dry enough to dig, I brought up about a quarter inch of clay, then some of the loveliest, most crumbly loam I've seen in a long time. The grain from last summer seems to have mostly decomposed, but it's broken up the soil and hopefully made more nutrients available. The soil here always looks spectacular -- crumbly, good-smelling, lots of worms and insect activity -- but then it refuses to hold nitrogen. I'll keep amending, feed with alfalfa tea, and if I get really desperate I'll use small amounts of urea. It seems to suppress worm activity, but maybe small doses won't be so bad.

I weighed down a tarp over the wheelbarrow full of green stuff (to be dumped into the raised sweet potato bed, along with leaves and other goodies, once I put the rocks in place for the sides), stored away the folded garbage bags I've salvaged from bagged leaves, finished lugging the rocks for the raised bed over close to their new location, and transferred the old poblano chile from its spot in the garden to a smallish pot. We've had enough frost to do in the tomatoes, but chiles are hardier; this one is down to about three leaves and seems to be hibernating, waiting for the soil to warm up again. Overwintered plants tend to have less vigor, but I'm willing to give it a try, and I admire its persistence.

I killed two more black widows today. I'm going to have to be careful out there -- I haven't seen this many widows in years.

I'm focusing my efforts at the moment on the tomato and pepper beds; it'll be quite a while before I start sowing things in place, and I think just about everything but the solanaceae will be sowed in place. Squash, cukes, beans, okra, melons, and corn either go directly into the ground, or get started in nice, warm soil a week before transplanting. The basil will need to be pre-started, but it goes in the same places the peppers do this season.

The pepper seedlings are doing well; most have spent enough time with just cotyledons to catch their breath, and I'm seeing more and more true leaves appearing. Pretty soon it'll be time to pot them up. The two Red Robin seedlings are also showing tiny little true leaves, faster than I expected. No sign yet of the main set of tomatoes, but I'm expecting someone to break the soil tomorrow.

Lastly, I'm seeing six little loops coming out of the soil in the Yellow Wisconsin 55 pot. No cotyledons just yet, and I'm holding my breath hoping they don't come up headless -- but six out of ten, so far, is much better germination than I had expected. Martin had so much trouble germinating his 30 that I thought maybe they were mostly dead, but it looks like I may get 7 or even 8 out of 10. Assuming, of course, that the seedlings come out of the soil all right and don't behead themselves or fall over; the soil is damp and heavy enough to take the seed coats off, and I've got a fan on them and chamomile tea in the water to prevent damping-off. Still, I am very optimistic, and I keep checking on them every few hours, waiting for that first little green head. :)

I'm guessing Martin wasn't kind enough to them. Most of the time it makes no difference, but these seeds in particular seem a little immature, and a nitrate soak and bottom heat might be what they want. If I can collect a decent amount of seed this year under good growing conditions, it will presumably be less picky about germination.

I'm so hyped about YWI55 -- being one of three people who has it, and having perhaps the best shot at spreading it around enough that it gets preserved, ups the stakes. If I can get enough seed to do even a limited offer on SSE next year, and get it distributed more widely, that will make me feel like I've done something useful in the long run. Anything to make sure that this odd little mutant doesn't disappear completely.