April

 

 

               The world has been warm and sunny for the past two weeks—lovely, but it just does not feel right, in Oregon, in April. This weekend, the clouds returned, rain softened the clods of dirt in my summer greens garden bed just before I needed to prep it for planting, and the sky is full of layers and layers of cloud with sun shining through the gaps. Despite the swelling slugs in the grass, it is beautiful.

                The greenhouse is full. There are some extra early cabbage starts in four inch pots from my first round of planting. The tomatoes have all been bumped up. Eighty six are waiting to go to new homes this coming weekend; 18 sit in gallon pots underneath the shelf, ready to be planted out in about three weeks, when the coop moves to the back run. The third round of plantings, known as the summer greens, is in six packs and four inch pots, resting over the tub. And today, I planted the vines, flowers, and herbs that will go out when it is truly warm in late May. After I start the corn tomorrow, every spot will be filled. The cat wanders in as I work, waiting to be boosted up to her shelf over the door, where she hangs a paw down while she naps.

  

              Outside, lilac and wisteria waft a deep purple fragrance over the back yard. Wild hyacinth and white alliums sprawl out of the beds onto the sidewalk. The early greens are ready for small soft salads. I mulched the potato bed this afternoon and Mr. Beezhold hopped right over to nibble on the dry grass, which is better than the rhubarb or the asparagus. The chickens are laying an egg most days and they have given in and are using the official nest box, rather than scrambling to get out or laying in the furthest corner of the run.  The fig tree has thumb sized figs forming at the base of the new leaves. Mark has to mow every five or six days to keep up; the push mower does not work well when the grass is too high.

                Late April is full of hope in the garden. Everything is started and growing. Nothing has been attacked by slugs, or flea beetles, or a chicken on a rampage…there are no failures or mistakes yet, no lessons learned the hard way. Soft rains help the cabbages grow and the warm sun pulls us all outside.