March--

March-- the challenging month.

Robert Frost said that April was the month of constant changes, shifting from spring to winter when a cloud passed over the sun and that may be true in New England, but, in Oregon, March is the month of constant changes.I find myself moving in and out of the house, working quickly to button up the just planted garden bed before the rains begin, catching the plastic tarp right before it blows away. Then I come in, change out of wet and muddy clothes,  find my book, make a cup if tea, and settle down-- in a bath of sunshine. March.

This weekend, despite downpours, I planted out the first of the garden beds, filling one with broccoli, cabbage, beets, kale, and mustard starts that we planted on Candlemas and then covering it with the steel hoops and a light weight plastic tarp. The other bed is tucked in the south corner of the house, under the kitchen window and holds some large lettuce starts, arugula, and mustard, all of which will be eaten before it is time to plant out the corn and squash in the same spot.  The starts were ready, reaching out of their pots and tangling together. They had been living in the greenhouse, so they were already hardened off as well.  We will be eating fresh greens from our garden soon.

We also had a lovely walk through the woods this morning, visiting with friends, watching out for the spring wildflowers, climbing the hills around town. We got hoe just before the downpours-- which have now ended once again.

March. 

My Mother's Veggies

                Dinner tonight is one of my late winter, early spring favorites—a simple baked dish of fennel, parsnips, leeks, and potatoes, roughly chopped, married with olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic, and baked in the oven in an old casserole with a lid. I was struck, this evening, by the differences between my veggie drawer and my mothers.

                My mother was a good cook of her time. She knew how to use garlic and onions, salt,  and pepper.  She was ahead of her time, experimenting with  Chinese cuisine for a dinner party. But, her range of vegetables was limited.  She kept onions and potatoes in the under the sink, carrots, celery, iceburg lettuce and pink tomatoes in the fridge, broccoli, spinach, and peas in the freezer, and canned corn and lots of tomatoes in the cabinet. Occasionally she peeled and boiled a hubbard squash, which was always deemed “wet.” For Thanksgiving, she cooked creamed pearl onions to rest next to her excellent stuffing. We had the occasional—and, in my mind, disgusting—Boiled Dinner, where cabbage and turnips were boiled to death with corned beef. There were apples, oranges, and bananas.

                We still eat most of these veggies, except for the boiled cabbage and pink tomatoes,  but we have added so many more. We eat fresh greens—kales, mustards, chard, argula, cabbage—all winter long. In spring, we add asparagus and mushrooms with fresh eggs. Summer is the feasting season with tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, broccoli,  green beans, zucchini…And then fall brings in the heavy squashes and root crops of potatoes, beets, carrots, and parsnips. Our palate has expanded, mostly because of the garden. Parsnips and kale grow well here. I had to learn how to cook them.  Now, I cannot imagine my kitchen without them, in season.

                I am glad my mother fed me her full range of vegetables as a child. I was never allowed to be picky; I had to eat what she put on my plate, even if it was boiled turnips.   I remember her kitchen when I lift down her cheerful casserole dish which we used—still use—for baked mac and cheese and toss my mixture of veggies in.

Sunday Morning in the Greenhouse

It was a cloudy morning, cool and misty. I cleaned up the greenhouse, washing away the remains of honey and wax from straining the hive; swept the floor; consolidated bags of potting soil. Once the space was clear, I moved the spring crops in-- they have spent the last three weeks in my classroom, growing under lights.  I planted some kale, lettuce, argula, and mustard starts  in the ground and watered them in. They look a little beat, but will recover. Once everything old was in order, I brought out the tomato and pepper seeds and planted them, two by two, in the deep six-packs. They will go to school on  Monday morning to bask in light and warmth until Spring Break. The planting season has begun.