So, it is now March. The wind is howling, snowfall has turned into falling sheets of ice, and there is now a cat who has taken up residence on my back porch...and is declaring to the world the rites of spring. One almost wants to just throw a pillow at her beautiful neck and yell, "Go tell it to the gopher!", but she is right. Spring is upon us (though Utah has yet to be able to prove it), and everyone is starting to think "green"!
Well aside from the false chance at getting pinched a time or two (and hopefully do some pinching) with the blessings of St. Patty, March also means getting your garden figured out (at least here in northern Utah. Those of you lucky enough to have already passed this point...go gloat to your flip-flops). And the question I have been hearing the most is: what do I need to do to start early, and what can I just grow in the ground? So here is my answer: if you have never done a garden in your life, feel free to start some tomatoes or pumpkins to get some experience and teach your kids with. Otherwise, I would recommend planning getting some starts from your local greenhouse. For all of you out there (myself included in the first of these) who are either dumb enough to ignore that advice or experienced enough (or with a great green thumb, pinkie, and big toe) to not need it but looking for a laugh anyway...read on.
My method is something very familiar to most: I like to remember what I learned in kindergarten. And no, I do not mean about staying within the line! I'm talking about all those lovely bean plants we were always so proud to take home to mom and dad...unless you were like me and yours was the one that had either gotten too dry, drowned like a rat, or just went pasty as soon as it peeked out and saw the sun. Go get a big ol' bag of cheap plastic cups (you know, the little clear ones), and some gardening soil. Having said all that, you can also use things like peat pots, plastic pots (from other, previous plants), etc. The only things you need to beware of are things that will prohibit growth (for instance, we tried to recycle a used plastic lexan/pan from a restaurant last year...yeah, that didn't work so well).
Yes, there is a difference between gardening soil and potting soil. Basically, gardening soil is more like the mud your kids dig up in the yard and the potting soil is the "perfect, indoor blend" which doesn't do much to prepare your plants for the rigors of outdoor life. My recommendation (just based on my own experiences) is to just get the garden soil and look to your favorite Ag. agent for the detailed explanations...or be prepared for the lush, green plants you have so carefully babied to lay down dead in shock at the sight of the harsh future before it. I swear, this has actually happened to me before...I'm just saying...
Ok, next up: the seeds. First of all, consider carefully what you actually need to start ahead of time. I do not recommend just looking at the list of whatever plant/garden starts your local Walmart typically has in stock later in the season. Basically, just think about what you really want to grow then double check which ones have the longest growing seasons or are susceptible to frost. Around here you pretty much want to be planting starts of anything that takes longer than about 90 days to harvest...or that wilts when Jack Frost sneezes (think tomatoes, pumpkins, melons, gourds, several onions, peppers, etc). Another thing to consider is how finicky the seeds themselves are (things like herbs that you basically blow into the soil and try to keep moist enough to sprout until they work themselves deeper)...those you definitely want to grow from starts if you live in an "arid" environment (aka: Utah). Ok, now that you've considered all this...go get your seeds. Make sure that if you are buying seeds in bulk, you get the planting instructions for each variety. If you are not buying them in bulk (for instance those of us who use EBT cards to pay for our garden seeds and have to get them from approved stores), the packets will usually have the instructions included on the back.
Alright, now we have our soil, our cups, and our seeds...we are ready to plant! Basically, fill the cups about 1/2-3/4 of the way to the top, follow seed planting instructions as given, and...oh, wait. Two other things I forgot to mention....
Basically, before you fill every cup in the package you bought full of dirt you want to consider what space you are going to use to put your sprouts on. In my apartment, by the time we are finished we generally have every square inch of windowsill, available kitchen bar space, and the tops of available bookshelves covered in little plastic cups. Do Not plan on just using your dining room table or kitchen counters for this since I'm guessing that you don't want to eat out or starve for the next 2 months...
The other thing is to make sure you have a spray bottle with a mister option. I know, I know, it is really sissy-fied...but it works a whole lot better, especially on seeds like herbs. And please don't use the same bottle as the one you spray over your kids' hair unless you don't mind fertilizing whatever they have managed to get into their scalps when you weren't looking (we have a true story in my family about my dad's ear and a hay seed...but I'll save that for another time).
Ok, get some dirt under those lovely fingernails of yours and dig in! Follow the instructions on your packets, spray water in each cup until the soil is moist (but not water-logged, you are not making mud pies no matter what your 3 year old says!), and put in a warm, sunny place. Make sure that the sunny place does not get covered in frost during the evenings, and then sit back and enjoy the childhood flashbacks...
Happy Planting!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Priorities of a Working Housewife
For those of you who don't want to hear my religious or philosophical meanderings, this may be a post which you'll want to skip. If you don't mind dealing with my messy head then read on...but don't say I didn't warn you!
Well, March is definitely picking up the pace around my house...literally at the moment. With the wind blowing and gusting past the windows and raising drafts it is starting to get cold again, but instead of snow we are still getting rain (knock on wood) which means that my "chaos season" is about to pounce. Along with the wind blowing, the stress has been building. Especially for my family, at this time of year we have everything from birthday parties and dinners to attend, slumber parties to plan (and survive!), church activities to participate in, work schedules picking up pace, orders starting to come in, charity efforts to kick into high gear...all on top of a messy house begging and pleading for a good de-cluttering, a budget crying for a successful yard sale, a garden that needs preparing for, and all the other regular mumbo-jumbo (cooking, cleaning, laundering, bandaging, homework...).
And then the unthinkably wonderful thing happened: we got the call from a friend of ours that they needed someone to do the food for their wedding because the caterer they had been planning on hiring was taken out for medical reasons. Well, since I had volunteered to help earlier and because we haven't turned down anyone's need for help at a wedding yet...and they were even wonderful enough about making sure that their menu choices would be simple for us to do. So like an idiot, I said no problem. All without checking on my calendar that said what rotten timing it was considering we had a 10 yr old's slumber party planned 3 days before the wedding and a craft boutique for the weekend after. Brilliant of me, wouldn't you say?
So here I was, the day of the wedding and after the weekend spent with 4 giggling, sleep deprived ten year olds, 3 neglected little boys, a house full of half finished projects and to-do lists, and a husband about to kill me from getting him involved in so much at once. It was an interesting place to be, that was for sure...and it got me to thinking the age old question: "What ever made me think I could pull this one off?!" (Ok, there really is a point to my whining into the internet space otherwise known as "The Void")
That was my lowest point for the week. I still ache a little from the feelings of being overwhelmed, of failure, and nearly despair that began to wash over me like a never ending tide with manacles. Later that night as I lay down next to my husband and reviewed my day, I realized I had made a huge mistake. One that did really over come all the rest. I had forgotten a very key thing that is the very core of me. It is something that the women of the LDS church (all women are included in this, but as it is coming from LDS church leaders) hear all the time: "You are an elect lady."
"An elect lady? ME?! Yeah, right!" was all I could respond with. As soon as I let myself think those words, the plethora of failures, of good intentions never reached, of duties and responsibilities not accomplished came crashing down over me like a wagon load of river rock bumping and tumbling down the hill. But then, with the tears still wet on my cheeks, came the other voice: "Yes, an elect lady who has been given talents, trust, love, knowledge, skills, gifts, and opportunities for growth...and who will continue to be given those things so that She will learn what an elect lady She is." Suddenly, the negative emotions weren't so much washing over all of me; but rather, they were quietly nibbling insistently on my toes. I drifted to sleep with that final phrase clutched close to my heart "She will learn what an elect lady She is", hoping I would figure out what had happened in the morning when I could see straight again.
The next day as I sat staring at my personal bedlam and tried to figure out where to even start, I remembered the previous night. Ever heard the hymn, "Count Your Many Blessings"? I guess you could say that was what I was asking myself. And realized suddenly that I really was blessed, even in the chaos and stress and failures. Because what I was seeing then as a problem was really just an opportunity and a challenge: to begin to recognize for myself what my blessings are through the events that were surrounding me and by prioritizing so that only the "best of things" was filling my days in ways that would show me what I have to give of worth. That the cranky, teething baby is fussing because I am adored and able to give comfort to those who are otherwise completely miserable and helpless. That I am strong enough to answer a friend in need and carry it out (be it in boxes, bags, bowls, or just my arms). That I am lucky enough to have the knowledge and skills necessary to make things that are beautiful enough not just for my own home but also that I can be proud to offer to others. And the faith enough to recognize that even at my most empty, dark moments when I am willing to allow myself to look to God with a quiet ear (rather than an open mouth, you did hear me whining?) He will show me His blessings and answers.
So I decided that I am going to do something at the end of each day: recognize the hardest thing I did that day to show myself that I am an elect lady. Without sarcasm, too. Easier said than done sometimes, I know, but don't you see? I am an elect lady, a daughter of a God, and one of the luckiest of ladies or commoners anywhere because of who and what I am. That I am just as worthy of finding for myself the ways to make me into that which is "of good report or praise worthy" as all the amazing men and women that I love and adore and look up to.
Having said all that, I'm sure I'm going to "fall off the bandwagon" a time or two...and probably end up with bruised hips for my efforts. Hey, we are all human right? Yet so long as I will look at my day and be willing to recognize at least one thing that God has given me the opportunity to start, work on, or finish which shows me that I can be an elect lady...well, then I'm at least getting a good start. And if I can do it, so can you!
Well, March is definitely picking up the pace around my house...literally at the moment. With the wind blowing and gusting past the windows and raising drafts it is starting to get cold again, but instead of snow we are still getting rain (knock on wood) which means that my "chaos season" is about to pounce. Along with the wind blowing, the stress has been building. Especially for my family, at this time of year we have everything from birthday parties and dinners to attend, slumber parties to plan (and survive!), church activities to participate in, work schedules picking up pace, orders starting to come in, charity efforts to kick into high gear...all on top of a messy house begging and pleading for a good de-cluttering, a budget crying for a successful yard sale, a garden that needs preparing for, and all the other regular mumbo-jumbo (cooking, cleaning, laundering, bandaging, homework...).
And then the unthinkably wonderful thing happened: we got the call from a friend of ours that they needed someone to do the food for their wedding because the caterer they had been planning on hiring was taken out for medical reasons. Well, since I had volunteered to help earlier and because we haven't turned down anyone's need for help at a wedding yet...and they were even wonderful enough about making sure that their menu choices would be simple for us to do. So like an idiot, I said no problem. All without checking on my calendar that said what rotten timing it was considering we had a 10 yr old's slumber party planned 3 days before the wedding and a craft boutique for the weekend after. Brilliant of me, wouldn't you say?
So here I was, the day of the wedding and after the weekend spent with 4 giggling, sleep deprived ten year olds, 3 neglected little boys, a house full of half finished projects and to-do lists, and a husband about to kill me from getting him involved in so much at once. It was an interesting place to be, that was for sure...and it got me to thinking the age old question: "What ever made me think I could pull this one off?!" (Ok, there really is a point to my whining into the internet space otherwise known as "The Void")
That was my lowest point for the week. I still ache a little from the feelings of being overwhelmed, of failure, and nearly despair that began to wash over me like a never ending tide with manacles. Later that night as I lay down next to my husband and reviewed my day, I realized I had made a huge mistake. One that did really over come all the rest. I had forgotten a very key thing that is the very core of me. It is something that the women of the LDS church (all women are included in this, but as it is coming from LDS church leaders) hear all the time: "You are an elect lady."
"An elect lady? ME?! Yeah, right!" was all I could respond with. As soon as I let myself think those words, the plethora of failures, of good intentions never reached, of duties and responsibilities not accomplished came crashing down over me like a wagon load of river rock bumping and tumbling down the hill. But then, with the tears still wet on my cheeks, came the other voice: "Yes, an elect lady who has been given talents, trust, love, knowledge, skills, gifts, and opportunities for growth...and who will continue to be given those things so that She will learn what an elect lady She is." Suddenly, the negative emotions weren't so much washing over all of me; but rather, they were quietly nibbling insistently on my toes. I drifted to sleep with that final phrase clutched close to my heart "She will learn what an elect lady She is", hoping I would figure out what had happened in the morning when I could see straight again.
The next day as I sat staring at my personal bedlam and tried to figure out where to even start, I remembered the previous night. Ever heard the hymn, "Count Your Many Blessings"? I guess you could say that was what I was asking myself. And realized suddenly that I really was blessed, even in the chaos and stress and failures. Because what I was seeing then as a problem was really just an opportunity and a challenge: to begin to recognize for myself what my blessings are through the events that were surrounding me and by prioritizing so that only the "best of things" was filling my days in ways that would show me what I have to give of worth. That the cranky, teething baby is fussing because I am adored and able to give comfort to those who are otherwise completely miserable and helpless. That I am strong enough to answer a friend in need and carry it out (be it in boxes, bags, bowls, or just my arms). That I am lucky enough to have the knowledge and skills necessary to make things that are beautiful enough not just for my own home but also that I can be proud to offer to others. And the faith enough to recognize that even at my most empty, dark moments when I am willing to allow myself to look to God with a quiet ear (rather than an open mouth, you did hear me whining?) He will show me His blessings and answers.
So I decided that I am going to do something at the end of each day: recognize the hardest thing I did that day to show myself that I am an elect lady. Without sarcasm, too. Easier said than done sometimes, I know, but don't you see? I am an elect lady, a daughter of a God, and one of the luckiest of ladies or commoners anywhere because of who and what I am. That I am just as worthy of finding for myself the ways to make me into that which is "of good report or praise worthy" as all the amazing men and women that I love and adore and look up to.
Having said all that, I'm sure I'm going to "fall off the bandwagon" a time or two...and probably end up with bruised hips for my efforts. Hey, we are all human right? Yet so long as I will look at my day and be willing to recognize at least one thing that God has given me the opportunity to start, work on, or finish which shows me that I can be an elect lady...well, then I'm at least getting a good start. And if I can do it, so can you!
Friday, March 4, 2011
Kalanchoe Adventures
So, last winter I convinced my husband to let me try and grow a different plant inside: a Kalanchoe. They are a succulent variety of houseplant which have beautiful little blooms that grow in bunches and bloom usually in the late winter-time. I thought they would just be a fun, pretty addition to my already rowdy bunch of house greenery. Little did I know I had just adopted another poinsettia-like beast!
Basically, for the last year this hardy little plant has been soldiering on in spite of a clueless caretaker. It sits on what I am starting to think of as my "window sill of death" aka the dining room window sill. Thanks to all of my other experiments, about 1/4 of the plants there are in need of the graveyard...though they are currently waiting for spring to finally hit so the garden soil can be turned over (or until I give up enough to admit my own defeat and through them away). For those of you who don't know my apartment, the reason I keep using this window sill is because of its positioning. It gets the most sunlight during the day since it isn't blocked by any other buildings because our apartment is on the end of the building and the complex property. Unfortunately, that also means it is the one hit most by the winds as they come down and create lovely swirling drafts around my windows. Yes, I am intelligent...I so unbiasedly proclaim...
Anyway, needless to say, my poor plant is suffering. It has gone from a vibrant, lush green plant to...well, I'll just say it is rather spindly at the moment. But the good news is, I finally grew a few more brain cells and looked up some information about how you are supposed to treat your kalanchoe plants. Apparently, they hate cold temps, love lots of sunlight (the more the better), and (drum roll please)...you are supposed to treat them like poinsettias! That is right, even to the point where most greenhouses that I looked up were recommending you throw them out at the end of it's flowering season. Apparently, I actually did better than I thought! I kept it alive for more than a year! And you all thought this was nothing but a confession from a plant abuser...
So, this first post of mine is going to describe the process as I attempt to turn my sickly little "pop plant" (this is my three year old's term) back into a gorgeously big leafed and flowering gem.
Step one: I need to actually clean off all the dead "growth" of brown limbs, leaves, old flower stems, etc.
Step two: transplant! Apparently, this is the right time to transplant these little babies into a new pot about 1 1/2 - 2 inches bigger than the preceding one. The interesting note about this is they recommend a clay pot. Who knew?! It seems that clay pots dry out the roots that much faster than others (I wonder if that is why all my strawberries died brutal deaths a couple years ago...but in my defense, what idiot created clay strawberry pots with no glazing? Probably someone like this schmuck who actually bought one thinking "what a good idea"). It was also recommended that you put rocks in the bottom of the pot as well as some limestone if you live in the east (limestone helps up the ph balance of soil. Do not do it if you live around here in the intermountain west, land of adding vinegar and pine needles to soil just to keep blueberries alive). I have to admit, I've never heard of doing that before...must be the whole "grounded to Utah" thing...
Step three: to fertilize as soon as you see new growth. That won't be hard. Something tells me as soon as I tell my kids to check the plant for new growth I will get a running update until after they go on to high school. "Mom! Mom! Mom! There is a new spot on the plants trunk!" or "Mom! The leaves are brown still!" or "Mom! The plant touched me!"...
Step four: only water when the soil is already dry. Wait, isn't that what you are supposed to do with all succulents?! Oops, my mistake. I wonder what my other cactus will think when it starts getting watered more often...probably, "Help! This crazy lady is drowning me!"
Step five: in September I am supposed to cover this plant or put it into a closet for at least 13 hours a day. One article even suggested I prepare a box to put around it which would be sealed with black plastic...just in case. Indications are that you need to protect the plant from any accidental sunlight, common house lights, flashing headlights, or probably even blinking alien lights from a passing UFO...apparently it makes the flowers turn green and pale when they do finally bloom.
Step six: step back and enjoy a year of growth hopefully complete with bunches of beautiful blooms...until the flowers all fall off and the process starts over again.
Here is hoping I make it that far!
Basically, for the last year this hardy little plant has been soldiering on in spite of a clueless caretaker. It sits on what I am starting to think of as my "window sill of death" aka the dining room window sill. Thanks to all of my other experiments, about 1/4 of the plants there are in need of the graveyard...though they are currently waiting for spring to finally hit so the garden soil can be turned over (or until I give up enough to admit my own defeat and through them away). For those of you who don't know my apartment, the reason I keep using this window sill is because of its positioning. It gets the most sunlight during the day since it isn't blocked by any other buildings because our apartment is on the end of the building and the complex property. Unfortunately, that also means it is the one hit most by the winds as they come down and create lovely swirling drafts around my windows. Yes, I am intelligent...I so unbiasedly proclaim...
Anyway, needless to say, my poor plant is suffering. It has gone from a vibrant, lush green plant to...well, I'll just say it is rather spindly at the moment. But the good news is, I finally grew a few more brain cells and looked up some information about how you are supposed to treat your kalanchoe plants. Apparently, they hate cold temps, love lots of sunlight (the more the better), and (drum roll please)...you are supposed to treat them like poinsettias! That is right, even to the point where most greenhouses that I looked up were recommending you throw them out at the end of it's flowering season. Apparently, I actually did better than I thought! I kept it alive for more than a year! And you all thought this was nothing but a confession from a plant abuser...
So, this first post of mine is going to describe the process as I attempt to turn my sickly little "pop plant" (this is my three year old's term) back into a gorgeously big leafed and flowering gem.
Step one: I need to actually clean off all the dead "growth" of brown limbs, leaves, old flower stems, etc.
Step two: transplant! Apparently, this is the right time to transplant these little babies into a new pot about 1 1/2 - 2 inches bigger than the preceding one. The interesting note about this is they recommend a clay pot. Who knew?! It seems that clay pots dry out the roots that much faster than others (I wonder if that is why all my strawberries died brutal deaths a couple years ago...but in my defense, what idiot created clay strawberry pots with no glazing? Probably someone like this schmuck who actually bought one thinking "what a good idea"). It was also recommended that you put rocks in the bottom of the pot as well as some limestone if you live in the east (limestone helps up the ph balance of soil. Do not do it if you live around here in the intermountain west, land of adding vinegar and pine needles to soil just to keep blueberries alive). I have to admit, I've never heard of doing that before...must be the whole "grounded to Utah" thing...
Step three: to fertilize as soon as you see new growth. That won't be hard. Something tells me as soon as I tell my kids to check the plant for new growth I will get a running update until after they go on to high school. "Mom! Mom! Mom! There is a new spot on the plants trunk!" or "Mom! The leaves are brown still!" or "Mom! The plant touched me!"...
Step four: only water when the soil is already dry. Wait, isn't that what you are supposed to do with all succulents?! Oops, my mistake. I wonder what my other cactus will think when it starts getting watered more often...probably, "Help! This crazy lady is drowning me!"
Step five: in September I am supposed to cover this plant or put it into a closet for at least 13 hours a day. One article even suggested I prepare a box to put around it which would be sealed with black plastic...just in case. Indications are that you need to protect the plant from any accidental sunlight, common house lights, flashing headlights, or probably even blinking alien lights from a passing UFO...apparently it makes the flowers turn green and pale when they do finally bloom.
Step six: step back and enjoy a year of growth hopefully complete with bunches of beautiful blooms...until the flowers all fall off and the process starts over again.
Here is hoping I make it that far!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
In Case You Really Wanted to Know...
Welcome to a world filled with dirt smudged faces, weird names, and odd smells...that's right, otherwise known as the Martin's Apartment, home to me!
I am Rachel, a mother of 4 young children, wife to one man who claims he will never grow up, small business entrepreneur, wannabe hobbyist/folklorist/musician/author/historian/artist..(do you really want me to go on?), full fledged member of the LDS church (Mormon, in case you are wondering), and an avid gardener with a half green,/half black thumb.
The things I intend to use this blog for is basically all the personal things that fill my life for those who are interested in the mind behind the magic I call The Handmade Heritage and many of its creations and designs...or just anyone interested in the private notes written by this little scattered brain I live by.
I live in northern Utah where many of these things are "easily" crammed in between all my church meetings which help keep me sane, my large family gatherings which help keep me emotionally complete, fun business events which keep me financially hopeful, and my never-sane apartment which seems to somehow miraculously take on the rest...mostly. So there will probably be things contained here that may not be correct (hello, I am the one who is writing it after all), but just might be worth checking out. I hope others will enjoy it as much as I do, and please don't hesitate to drop comments! That is how I know whether or not I am as nuts as I think I am, or if I'm really just as boring as I feel.
I am Rachel, a mother of 4 young children, wife to one man who claims he will never grow up, small business entrepreneur, wannabe hobbyist/folklorist/musician/author/historian/artist..(do you really want me to go on?), full fledged member of the LDS church (Mormon, in case you are wondering), and an avid gardener with a half green,/half black thumb.
The things I intend to use this blog for is basically all the personal things that fill my life for those who are interested in the mind behind the magic I call The Handmade Heritage and many of its creations and designs...or just anyone interested in the private notes written by this little scattered brain I live by.
I live in northern Utah where many of these things are "easily" crammed in between all my church meetings which help keep me sane, my large family gatherings which help keep me emotionally complete, fun business events which keep me financially hopeful, and my never-sane apartment which seems to somehow miraculously take on the rest...mostly. So there will probably be things contained here that may not be correct (hello, I am the one who is writing it after all), but just might be worth checking out. I hope others will enjoy it as much as I do, and please don't hesitate to drop comments! That is how I know whether or not I am as nuts as I think I am, or if I'm really just as boring as I feel.
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