Yas, Green!

 The lights on the Christmas tree have barely cooled and it's already put away for next year, and my super cheap-o seed starting setup is humming in its place.  In addition to the seeds I began stratifying last week I have verbena bonariensis, globe artichoke, and teasel on the way, all of which need stratification. 

I know, right?

And because I can't help myself, I've already started some seeds. 

Mesclun mix greens, arugula, sweet basil, and spicy basil.  Just a little somethin', somethin' to tide me over for the next...*checks calendar*...53 days.

Winter Solstice Celebration

 I've decided the winter solstice is the perfect time to begin stratification of seeds.  Stratification is basically tricking seeds into thinking they've been through the cold, moist of winter in order to encourage germination.  I think many seeds I've started that have failed probably needed this.  

I've purchased seeds from Prairie Moon Nursery, which gives you codes for each seed that tell you how long of a stratification they require, as well as the best method.  The seeds I've chosen will all be done using a method I've never tried before - moist coffee filters.

My first order of business is to sort through and decide which seeds to start now.  Some of the seeds need 90 days, some 60, and some 30.  I'm going to start the 90 and 60 day seeds now, so that by mid February and late March I'll be able to sow them.  Most of these varieties are perennials.

Using the handy brochure that came with the seeds, I did a quick soak by pouring the seeds into a small glass of water, letting them sit for about a minute or so then pouring them into a coffee filter that was set inside a small colander.  (Not so) Pro tip 1: pour the water slowly, otherwise the coffee filter flops over and seeds fall into the colander, and some of them are hard to pick up!  I let the water drip out of the filters then carefully folded them as small as I could and wrung the rest of the water out, then unfolded the filter.  The directions say to lay the seeds in a single layer spread out on the filter, which apparently requires some sort of supernatural dexterity or more patience than I can muster.  Every time I tried to push the seeds around they stuck to my fingers or wadded together on the filter.  I ended up folding the filters in half and giving them a little shake to try to spread the seeds more evenly before sliding them into the plastic bags.  (Not so) Pro tip 2: put the dry paper towel in first if you're using small bags, because trying to get the whole mess in there without spilling seeds or wadding up the towel and filter is another test of one's abilities.  

 And there we are.  Now I just have to remember to check them weekly and keep them moist, but not soggy.  Hopefully this will pay off when I sow the seeds in the spring.  

Happy Solstice!

Safety first!

 We just had a storm much like the one of December 26th, 2022.  We had some decent snowpack started, then in came absurdly warm temperatures and rain, followed by a deep freeze.  It was a good time to observe how well the snow guards I recently had installed on the mule barn roof worked.  After all, I didn't want a repeat of the April snowstorm near-death experience.

I opted for clear polycarbonate snow guards  and was happy with how unobtrusive they looked after installation.  We had a few small storms with three inches of snow or so, and above where they were installed, the snow pretty much stayed put.  The foot or so between the bottom row and the roof edge would just slide off, but that wasn't enough snow to cause injury to the mules, who for some reason insist on backing up to the eave side wall on the outside of the barn during bad weather.  Maybe the rain or snow coming off the roof feels like a massage, who knows?  But given this predilection I've always worried that they would get hurt at some point if a large amount of snow gave way; experience is the mother of caution, or something like that.

After the first couple storms we had another small one that left about four inches of new snow, but reports were calling for an unusual increase in temperatures and some torrential rain, along with whipping winds.  I was curious to see if the rain would have any effect on the snow still piled on the roof, held back by the snow guards.  Would it remain there, would it slide off in one go, would it peel off in sections?  

December 11th, 8:30 am: The snow is covering the entire roof.

December 11th, 2:30 pm: It's been drizzling rain but temperatures remain in the 30sF, only the edge has been exposed.

December 11th, 5:30 pm: It's beginning to rain in earnest, and despite melting or compacting a bit, the snow hasn't gone anywhere.

December 13th, 8:00 am: Despite temperatures into the 50sF and torrential downpours on the 11th, there's still snow on the roof.  This was pretty much what it looked like the morning of the 12th but I forgot to take a photo.  Temperatures plummeted back into the 20sF during the day.

It's now the 15th and it looks pretty much the same.  So, despite melting and rain, it didn't come off in one giant sheet.  The amount that slides off the roof isn't enough to hurt the mules (or their person).  And the biggest surprise to me is the lack of the massive frozen bank under the eaves, the one that sometimes looks like this:

So suffice to say, I'm pretty darned happy with these little snow guards.  I was nervous picking manure under the eaves at first (hello, PTSD) but I know now that I have nothing to worry about, I'm perfectly safe from sudden avalanches.  And it helps that I purchased enough to also have some installed over the hay room doors on the other side of the barn, where I'd been buried this past spring.  Safety first!

December

 

We've had an exceptionally dry autumn, and a few inches of wet snow was a welcome sight on Thanksgiving day.  In parts of New England drought is a concern, and wildfires have been an issue.  I'm not sure how the lack of water recently affect any plants that aren't well established, and I'm a little concerned for my fall planted garlic, but we'll see how things fare.

I've spent much of the morning going through photos from the summer and hoping for inspiration for next year.  I'm already planning where to move the last of the perennials in the hillside garden, and making lists of annual seeds I'd like to start over winter.  Hopefully the next five months will fly by, and before I know it, I'll be back to complaining that I've over-planted and under-watered once again.