Flown the Coop

Spring is my favorite time on the farm for so many obvious reasons - the seeds germinating, the hopeful plans made for a more organized season, tilling the land with the tractor, transplants landing in the field, even harvesting my early crops in May, like radishes, lettuce, spinach and chard. While all of my best laid plans are swirling around me, mostly under my control, an entirely separate event is happening, also all around me...the birds and their new offspring that have entered the world.

Maybe I haven't been the same since reading Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. On the farm, we have sparrows, finches, red-winged blackbirds, bluebirds, the screeching killdeer, and the occasional hawk soaring overhead. Many of our neighbors have erected bluebird houses in an effort to encourage their population. It seems to be working, as I saw my first male this week.

Often, the birds make their way into one of the greenhouses through an open door or a tear in the plastic. They seek a warm and protective place to build their nests and rear their young. We find nests every year in the flowering hanging baskets and sometimes in the back of the heaters (<--pic.) This spring, I've had my eye on a small nest in the back of the heater in greenhouse five. What was an egg a few weeks ago became a small, featherless, breathing lump, and then a tiny, scared bird (sparrow or finch) with a few random feathers - one sticking up behind his head, a couple on his chest, and a few on his wings. All day yesterday, I kept checking his nest. His mother was never around during the day - probably out foraging for food. I knew she was returning to the nest as evidenced by the pile of crap (literally) piling up around the edge of the nest (see 2nd pic.) When I would peek in, his eyes would always meet mine and then he would dart his head around as if to say: "Where's Mom? What do I do? Human! Human!" On my third check yesterday...sadness and elation. He had flown the coop! He was gone, had made his first flight. And I missed it. Kevin, who was working in the greenhouse at the time, said he saw the bird come out. He flew so low and awkwardly that he almost flew right into Kevin.

So today, guess what I am doing at the farm? Hunting for another nest to spy on for the next few weeks. Maybe it's the city girl in me that seeks this fascination with the metamorphosis of nature. Or maybe I am just a simpleton? Ha!

Let them eat salad

I can't resist the shades of red and green in this lettuce mix I have been growing for years. It is the "cut and come again" type where you cut the leaves when young (approximately 2" tall), and it gives you another flush of leaves. In fact, I can usually get three flushes out of this mix.

Aesthetically, they are a beautiful accent in a salad. More practically, I snip and cut this mix to put on my sandwiches or wraps. Most recently, I have been growing these over the winter in the greenhouse and marketing them at the Boston Wholesale Flower Exchange (where retail florists shop.) I sow the seed fairly thickly in a 8"x5" rectangular peat pot. Once the seed is covered lightly with vermiculite, I water, stand back, and watch it grow. They need to grow on for about 3-4 weeks until they are a marketable size.

A note of caution if you try this at home: just be careful not to overwater. These get watered every few days. Because the seed is sown so thickly to get that nice "carpet" look, excess water has a tendency to pool at the base of the leaves, near the soil level, and the lettuce can and will rot there.

Happy Mother's Day!

Would you rather have a gift that was bought for you, or made? Well, here's to hoping you said "made," mom.

This promised bag has been a long time in the making. Initially, it was meant to be a smaller, felted purse. But I goofed and used a super bulky wool. The bag knitted up HUGE....and I thought felting would shrink it down a little. It did, but not quite as much as I thought. I believe it's the periwinkle blue from Lion's Pride? Adorned with a green daisy and a few green rosettes, it is now a farmer's market bag, or hopefully a bag where you could keep your travelling knitting stash.

So, here's to my mom...who drove me to dance lessons for years, who didn't lose her shit when i refused to eat the sesame seeds on the Burger King buns, who allowed me to leave Ridgeview and go to Briarwood, and always made me the cinnamon crusts when she was baking pies. I love you mom, and promise to get my butt to the post office this week, so you can start shopping at the ever-awesome Farmer's Market in Kansas City. Or sneak over to Rodewald's to knit with your new bag in tow! Muah!

Spring is here!

The rain has finally halted a bit here in Massachusetts and the land has been tilled. At the farm this week, I got my Sugar Snap Peas planted, and I am thrilled! Planting the peas is always one of my first spring tasks, and one of the first times of the season where i get my hands back in the dirt. With the loamy silt beneath my knees, I hand planted the entire pound of peas. The side of your straightly held hand makes a lovely furrow as you drag it down the field. After soaking the peas in a bucket of water for a few days prior to planting, I trickled them into the furrow. Next, the soil on either side of the furrow was huddled on top of the seeds, tucking them into bed for the spring.

Now all I do is wait. And wait. And I check them. Anything popped up yet? No, not yet. Maybe another day. I wait some more. Anyone reminded of first grade and your milk carton seed project? What is it about the seed popping up out of the ground? The first little cotyledons leaving the safety of the seed shell to bear its first leaves to the world? It doesn't matter how long you've gardened or farmed...this shit never gets old.

A Belly Sweater with Room for Horns on your Back

So this sweater goes into the pile of losers. Embarrassing, actually. Historically, if I follow a pattern for a size S (32) sweater, I end up with an extremely, loose fitting pup tent in which a cozy friend could join me. So, I bared the elements, made some measurements and calculations, and designed a basic, short-sleeved, v-neck sweater. Ok, so maybe the sleeves were an afterthought after discovering that my armholes would only fit an 8-year old, but I was convinced they could save the sweater. And sure, the sweater is a little short. But again, I thought the sweater could be saved by pairing it with a cutesy, longer white slinky tank underneath. Maybe even something lacy. It could then fall into the "funky" category. Nothing is saving this sweater now. That is, unless horns on the back of shoulders comes into style. Ouch. My finishing techniques leave much to be desired.

A Little Gift for You

These little gifts of flowers were the centerpieces at a client's holiday party this year. So simple and clever (I can't take credit for this design...we found it in a magazine): chartreuse mums poked into a wet Oasis brick with a small pearl pin stuck in each center and wrapped with a red velvet ribbon. You should have seen the look on the freight elevator operator's face as I delivered the flowers. He just kept asking: "But what's inside?" I smiled coyly and said "Now that would ruin the surprise!"

My stash, my stash, my stash

I'll admit it. I used to hide it. Inside the large buffet pictured below. But I'm out now, baby. The psychology behind my decision to go public with my yarn stash: halt future yarn purchases. When the yarn is out, I can see what I have, get inspired and begin to whittle away at the stash with a different project every week, right? It's working. This weekend, I am starting a pretty little ballet sweater out of this orange-y red multicolor mohair yarn. So my advice, ladies...get the yarn out of the drawers, display it proudly. Or, if you have a husband looking over your shoulder monitoring every purchase: hide, hide, hide! Under the bed is good or perhaps a closet where anything domestic is kept, like the bucket and mop. We all know they never go in there! Where, oh where, is your stash?