Some like it hot...

Have you ever thought,

 

"My cold frame is wicked-awesome, but I wish it was on Steroids... organic, non-GMO Steroids."

 

Well aren't you glad you're reading this...

 

I was in Williamsburg this past year with Hubby and the in-laws. We had such a blast wandering around aimlessly, oohing and awing and snacking. And I was on cloud nine. On every street there was a garden tucked behind each building. They were fenced in, lined in rows, edged with paths, floral, vegetable, decorative, colorful and wild, pristine and proper, shaded, sunny, and everything in between.

And there it was.

The official Williamsburg Garden.

Oh, I could have lived there. I wanted to take everything with me and drop it all on my property. Hubby had to chase me around and tell me no a lot.

But the most wonderful thing I wanted to take was also the largest and most improbable.

 

Hot Beds.

 

If done right, you can grow pineapple in a hot bed in a zone 5 or 6! (for you non-gardeners, that statement may seem a little lackluster, but it blew my mind)

 

So I cajoled poor Hubby in to letting me steal all of his supplies so that I could build my own.

This is not the complete project, but here's a preview of where it's going...

 

First I had to dig a big hole. Or Hubby brings over a machine and digs it for me because my little biceps are half the size of his. I mean, I'll wrap my hands around his bicep, but then he flexes and forget it... hands can't stay together and I'm just a melt-y puddle of amazement. (don't tell him I told you. He gets all eye-rolling when I swoon)

He started the boxes for me but left a nice pile o bricks for me to finish it up...

Then I backfilled the dirt around the boxes and packed it down...

And TADA! I know. Anticlimactic. I still have to build the cold frame styled boxes to go on top. But, this guy gets a hefty load of manure that's been made from horses that have eaten straw or grasses and a thin layer of compost and it can get upwards of 120 degrees. Then once the few inches of soil go on top, it settles down the 70-80's. Perfect for plants to begin growing in mid winter!

 

It's rather technical. From what I've read, the wrong levels can make the whole thing combust or explode. The wrong manure won't get it hot enough, and not enough soil can mean that you have cooked seeds.

 

Hopefully I'll have it ready to go soon. I'll post pictures of the completed project when it's finished.

From seed to Home

Birds.
Love - Hate.
The little sparrows and finches make me coo at my window with my face pressed up against the glass.

But my Robin...
It's an "Extra" reject from Hitchcock's bird movie.
Rejected because it scared all the other scary birds....

That thing will crawl through my window one day and pull out all my hair for it's nest.
Hateful thing.

So I made a home for the little birds!

Last year I planted bird house gourds, and TADA!

It's my first attempt, and the antique nail was perhaps not the greatest idea. This went to a relative as a Christmas gift. I added antique keys as a sort of chime. I'm not sure how it will actually do as a house, but hopefully something will be desperate enough to take up shelter!

These are my confessions

So it's beyond frigid in zone 6. Single digit danger out there.

Apparently Alaska is the place to be for warmth,

And, ever the optimistic gardener, of course I'm picturing everything on my garden wish list in full bloom, on my plate, and stored up in my pantry.

So somehow it seems apropos to curl up and draw it all out on paper during the most frigid day in twenty years. On a day where your breath is snatched right out of your lungs the moment you walk out the door. But sometimes the end results of gardening leave me breathless anyway...

And rebounding from the sentimentality, I thought I'd post a few gardening confessions.

It's good for the soul and may make YOU realize how little I know about gardening.

1. Sometimes I hate getting my shoes all mucky. So I garden in Hubby's shoes when he's not paying attention. (We'll keep this our secret) Because honestly, his shoes are WORN.

2. I did not weed AT ALL last year until the gardening season was over. And even then, it was only so I could find the tools I'd left under the thicket and brush. And somehow, my garden still produced an over abundance.

3. I dry herbs all the time, and I'm always trying something new. But sometimes I'm so worried I've messed up and I'll end up poisoning myself or my husband, that I never use it. And that's usually when I give things away. I know, it's awful. Like my yarrow and red raspberry leaves. They're supposed to be excellent in tea, but I'm so nervous to try them!

 

 

4. My grapes have been TERRIBLE! I've eaten a few frozen ones in champagne, and a dreadfully sour one outside, but they seem to suffer from a horrific blight problem I haven't solved. A friend told me it took three years to get a crop from his, so I'll cross my fingers and hope this is my year.

 

 

 

5. I'll buy things solely on how pretty they are. Like this squash.

 

6. I played with that squash on my floor in the kitchen for twenty minutes before I cooked it. It was a flying saucer about to crash into a burning black hole (my oven). I'm a hardcore child inside.

 

7.I built a towel fort for a baby bunny I found in my garden so that he would come back and play, even though he ate most of my tender kale plants and half my lettuce. He and his three sibling were to pathetic to chase away.

 

8. I buy a lot of seedlings. No matter how much attention I give to my own, I seem to half kill them in transition from my basement to the raised beds. I'm still getting the "weathering" thing down. I'd say maybe half of them survive and they fight for weeks to get to the stage the Amish grown seedlings seem to get to in a matter of days. Those Amish... talented and fierce.

 

9. I hate beets. I hate bugs. I hate grubs most of all. I'm learning not to squish spiders. I'm afraid of my Robin, and mangoes could kill me but I really just want to lick one. Just one more time. And maybe a bite or two. It's a sick version of Russian Roulette in my head.

 

10. When people ask me questions, I'm terrified to answer them. I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm sure half of what I say is wrong. I read as many books and blogs as I can on topics and then just try to regurgitate the general consensus.

 

But it's so exciting to learn through trial and error! What's the worst advice you've ever gotten?

Share, share, share!!!!