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Showing posts from May, 2008

Yeah, spinach here again.

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Made it to the big city last Saturday, but it wasn't all it's cracked up to be. Like I put on my best darkest green coat and I knew I was lookin' mighty crisp. I don't want to brag or nothin' but folks do say I'm, um, tender, if ya know what I mean. But those city folks weren't gettin' it. They seemed so distracted - like nobody can focus on a little honest-to-goodness bag of greens. They were runnin' around with arm fulls of flowers - yeah, try eating a bloomin' daisy for lunch! Over at our stall it was plants plants plants. Nobody hardly looked at us. Course we was piled up in a box and stuck over in the corner while all the little plants with their cutesy-wutesy signs were spread out all over three stalls with five workers sayin' May I help you? all day. And I swear I saw those lettuce plants stuck out their tongues at me as they went by in somebody's flat - spoiled brats. Personally, I don't think those farmers know much

Tom and Tomatoes

One year ago today, Tom, my writing pal and ready reader, sent me this. Why it didn't make the Frog Log cut, I do not know. One year later, it is still timely...and timeless. Thanks, Tom! Frog Log 22 May 2007 Valencia I leave Frog Holler Farm after a few hours of marking plants in preparation for sale at the Ann Arbor Farmer's Market. Each tomato plant has its own wooden stick, hand written with its name, an heirloom, a cherry, or a big firm tasty variety: Roma, Striped German, rose, Brandywine , Muscovic, celebrity, volcove, Valencia . "So many," I think, "Amish to zebra." I remain amazed mentally viewing countless trays, each one hand planted from tiny seedlings, each plant watered, and coaxed to growth without chemicals, each seedling warmed chilly nights in the greenhouse by the fire of oak dead-fall, hauled from the woods in a burdened trailer behind a burdened tractor, burned fragrantly and faithfully in an ancient slab-wo

check it out

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Yah, spinach here. That frog lady is away so I thought I would take my chance. She's probably off mooning over her precious lettuce -- ooh, look at the seeds! Ooh, look at the leaves! Ooh, see how they grow! Gimme a break!I guess I'd grow too if someone warmed my tush on a lah-de-dah germinating mat! Or transplanted me into "hand-mixed, composted growing medium"! Or personally carried me to the garden and literally tucked me in. And then covered me so I didn't catch a nasty-wasty cold. Sheez -- what a bunch of wimps! You don't see all that fussin' over at the spinach patch. Nah, they just scratch out a row, throw some seeds in, and run back inside cuz it's cold . Seems like it's usually just before the last snow. That's right I said, snow. But we don't mind -- spinach can take it. We been up for a long time. No cheerin', no parades. Just spinach doin' it's spring thing. A little rain, a little hail, a little snow -- brin

Getting close

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We've been following the path of our faithful lettuce plant as it moves from the seed ( Froglog 3/10 - Tower o f Power ) and through the soil ( Froglog 3/5 - Humble Beginnings ). Seed leaves announce its arrival; true leaves establish its place in this season's spring crop ( Froglog 4/20 - True Leaves ). A chorus of sister seedlings now fill the greenhouse benches. Older siblings are already out in the garden and the row is filling out. It won't be long!