Excitement is about to settle in. It’s time to plant the tomato seeds in their little peat pots and plan what I hope will be another successful gardening year.
Right now, my four, 4-foot-by-35-foot beds are sleeping, as is the rest of the garden. Not all of last season’s debris has been cleaned up, but it will be very soon.
Most of the daffodils have reached through the soil and will blossom in a couple weeks. The perennial poppy plants are also green and just waiting for the right time to reach their three-foot height and begin producing lovely orange and red blossoms.
Parts of the garden need cleaning up, while other sections are just waiting to thaw so the rototiller can stir up the soil. Lilac and elderberry bushes still have some time to go before their blossoms grow and give off their lovely sweet aromas.
Inside the house, some seeds have been planted in individual peat pots, while others have yet to be started.
All the seed packets I’ve gathered during the past few months, along with the many-more-than-necessary seeds ordered from Maine seed companies, are arranged in an old Bass Shoe box, alphabetically, so when I’m ready it will be easy to find what I want, I hope.
Although I have already bought more seeds than I’m sure I’ll need (every year I say I’ll reduce the size of the garden, but . . .), whenever I see a deal or something I have not yet tried, my dreams of the perfect garden get the best of me and I buy more. That uncontrollable urge to buy more seeds accounts for the plastic bag almost full of packets I will probably not use this year, or perhaps ever.
But then, gardening is a joy that promises so much. And most of the time, those promises are fulfilled.
As a gardener for more years than I care to name, gardening is, most of all, hope. We trust that tiny seeds will grow into large, productive plants.
We gently plant each seed into its proper row, cross our fingers and pray that a bounteous harvest will result. We pray that blight or voracious insects will stay away.
Much of the time, it does.
This year’s compost heap is too fresh to use for the current gardening season, but it will be ready for next year (“There’s always next year” should be the mantra for all gardeners). But the compost heap we started a couple of years ago has turned into rich nutrients to feed each plant and seed as it is planted.
Right now, and during the next few weeks, is the time to:
* Inventory all the seeds that have been gathered and decide what must still be purchased. There is still time to order most seeds through seed catalogs, but the local farmers’ unions also have a good supply of seed varieties. I have discovered, by the way, that even cheap seeds that can be bought for very, very little often produce as well as their more expensive cousins.
* As the sun warms the early spring air, clear out any leftover garden debris so the soil will be ready for tilling.
* Plant tomato seeds — or any other vegetables you’d like to get a head start on — inside and place them under grow lights. If grow lights aren’t available, place individual pots on sunny windowsills, but remember to turn the pots each day. In addition to tomatoes, many gardeners start Brussels sprouts, cabbage, broccoli, onions and other vegetables that take too long to produce in our short growing season.
* Evaluate whether your garden spot should be reduced or expanded (and decide whether you will have enough time to care for the size you decide upon). My intentions are almost always greater than my actions.
* Have a load of manure spread on the garden space before it is tilled.
* Decide whether your garden will be a kitchen garden — meant to be enjoyed as each vegetable ripens and therefore will be relatively small — or you plan to can or freeze your harvest during the ensuing fall and winter months — which means the garden must be somewhat larger.
* Evaluate the amount of frozen or canned goods put up last year that remain on the pantry shelves or in the freezer, and determine if more or less of a certain vegetable should be planted.
And most of all, have an abundance of hope. That’s what really gets the garden going.
From that hope you just might get the freshest food anywhere to be found.
Eileen M. Adams has been gardening for decades and is still amazed at what the magical earth provides. She may be reached at [email protected]






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