|Don't know what it is, but it's willing to grow!|
Let's get back to the garden.
Strange things have been happening in the garden. The beet seedlings are fading like my engineering career after college. They completely don't seem to understand that I have planted them into a place where they should thrive. I've been there, beets. Some things just don't work. I might be one of them.
Some seedlings ARE sprouting in the place where the beets were transplanted. I don't know what they are, but they look like something with tough leaves. Maybe broccoli or kale. That's the same bed where the artist previously known as parsley sprouted. Turns out it was cilantro. I should probably keep a record of what I've planted. Or tried to plant. That's what happens when you dump all the old seeds from the cabinet into the garden. A lot of guess-the-seedling games.
I had resigned myself to an entire bed of cilantro and was trying to think of a food that would benefit from its special dirty-dishwater flavor when...Seems cilantro sprouts ...
are incredibly delicious! The chickens couldn't getenough of them. They dug up the whole bed looking for more. Whatever the green sprouts are, I must have planted them after the cilantro carnage because they are in loose rows. It took them so long to come up, I transplanted beet seedlings into the empty bed. Are you seeing a pattern here? This is the Bermuda Triangle of raised gardens.
|Don't stand between a hen and her food.|
An exorcism needs to be performed on one arugula plant. Yes, it was 25 degrees, but real arugula plants can take that. And the others did. The carrots lived through it and they are just seedlings! The whatever-you-are sprouts didn't have any damage at all.
I think I will just handle the arugula situation the way I handle most things: avoid it. There is another path through the field where I won't see the gnarled arugula plant. I'll use that one.
Today, I will tackle the chicken coop. That's a change and by Churchill, it should be as good as a break.