The farmlet is glistening in the February sun.
I have never failed to appreciate February in Washington, which brings a break from the precipitation (usually—so far, this is holding true in 2011), warmer temperatures, and the first crocuses of Spring.
We have some mud, and my gravel dreams remain with me—before October, I'd like to acquire 24 tons of 3/8ths inch minus (plus fines) and 12 tons of coarse sand. Still, it's not too bad. One mule, three goats, and a flock of chickens seem a manageable population for this one acre, and they have some green grass even now.
Our salad greens are pushing up in the greenhouse, and we should be eating spinach, lettuce, arugula, and baby kale before too long. Our celeries are germinating on the windowsill, and we're finally employing the baseboard heat in our dining room to warm their feet. Kale, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, scallions, leeks, and onions are poking their heads into the light.
Fenway Bartholomule is getting slightly fitter after his very relaxing winter, and we're committing to at least one real ride and one brief exercise session each week. I'd like to make it four and two, respectively. I, for my part, am lifting weights again, a hobby which I used to enjoy but which evades me now as a regular habit. I need to reestablish it, as it was a healthy and rewarding one.
My husband has ripped the gross carpet out of our bedroom, and the besplattered plywood underlayment is actually a refreshing substitute. There will be time for hardwood later.
The fruit trees are sending out suckers, and we're afraid to touch them. The overpruning of '09 still haunts us, with it's years of fruit-suppression.
The compost piles have grown beyond our ability to use them, and we're on the lookout for a needy gardener. Well aged manure—free! I've added a second gate to the pasture, hoping to facilitate truck access when we eventually find a taker.
(to be continued)