The 'Start' of Something Good: Straw Bale Garden 2021

The 2021 garden season is underway. 

I'll admit, I have struggled mightily this year. For the first time, I had no energy or will to put into my garden. I have been in a tremendous amount of pain. I've been struggling through brain fog so powerful that it leaves me feeling like I am tucked away in a dark room somewhere in the back of my head and can't seem to bring myself forward into my own eyes - into the physical room with everyone else. These pair with a lot of other symptoms but most noticeably some heart issues/episodes that last an hour at a time. My yearly struggles with triggering dates and events also came roaring more vividly to the front than they have in a while. 

February showed up almost immediately after Christmas was over. I told myself it was okay that I had no drive to start the garden because it was too early and too cold. March came, and I tried to talk myself into it but gave myself more time. I bought my straw bales and was delighted when they arrived on the first day of spring. Secretly, I wondered how I would put anything into them when I had still completely lost interest. Still, I figured having the bales might force me to begin. 

The end of March passed with me chiding myself that I *still* hadn't started. I was trying so hard to even keep up with daily tasks that it was mid-April in a blink. I still felt confused and tired and wondered what on earth is going on with me. On the 14th, thanks to the excitement of my little Pie, she and I finally placed seeds into pods.

Oh, she was so happy to help! She chatted and sang. In all, we spent a really good evening together. I didn't tell her how dizzy I felt or that I was getting confused by the names of the plants. I wrote down what we planted and sighed a massive inward sigh of relief when we were done. 

Sprouts started to show up a few days later. Ugh. I wasn't ready! 

"We'll move them over tomorrow," I promised myself for an additional two days. 

At some point, you know you simply *have* to get those poor things into trays! Little Giraffe was my enthusiastic helper once again. A Sunday afternoon was shared pouring over seedlings and potting soil. It was lovely. 

Gracious, they grow so FAST! The wee sprouts begged for larger cups (again) before I was ready. I like to bury them right up to beneath their first leaves so they have plenty of room to root. Another Sunday afternoon came and went, with four hours of careful transfers from trays to little pots. Fast-forward almost a week and that brings us to Saturday. My little Giraffe and I worked for hours finishing the transfer of newer seedlings into little cups and adding dirt, where needed, into the ones we finished last weekend. Her enthusiasm makes me smile. =)

Something else happened, too. Sure, I'm still exhausted, in a ton of pain, and really struggling to keep up with the tasks of any given day BUT... 

I got to sit outside.

So simple, right? That is also *extremely* late in the year for me. It was the first time all year that I have been absolutely alone in the morning and took the time to go out onto the patio and just exist. I inhaled the chilled air deeply; my muscles relaxing almost in unison. The sun warmed my right arm, even as my nose seemed to freeze on my face. My legs quickly turned gray and pale, but it didn't matter. I have needed this.

I wish that I had had the wherewithal to come out here to my place of peace sooner. This utter lack of energy is disconcerting. Additionally, spring has been colder than usual - keeping me wrapped mentally in the somber grip of winter. Like the still-frigid nights, I have been so dark inside. It feels like hibernation.

I adore and cherish my children with all of my heart. Time spent with them is borrowed and precious. Even so, few things compare to the way I experience the yard and garden in solitude. Birds are louder and friendlier. They come by to inspect me. I enjoy their eye contact and tilting heads. :) Squirrels and chipmunks do the same, cautiously checking to see if I've brought seeds and nuts. Insects are everywhere, making busy work of inspecting our plants, straw bales, and each other. In a world where humans give me strange looks or make rude comments about me in front of my children, nature accepts me as I am.

I fit in, somehow.

I knew from a young age that we were meant to be of service to other people. In itself, learning compassion is not a bad thing. When you start so small that helping others and constantly doing for others are your earliest memories, you can develop an intense sense of obligation. I am sure much of that came from the actual obligation placed on every pastor's family. Pair that later in life with anxiety or depression of any sort and there is *so much* internalized pressure. 

Not out in my garden. Not when both children are at work or out with Hubs. Here, I fit in without a single expectation resting on my shoulders. In that moment, my garden came back into my heart, bringing with it the first seedlings of sunshine and hope. It is hard to live a life of constant panic. I badly needed this reminder to just breathe.

I would love to refer to it as quiet or some kind of stillness. Nothing could be further from the truth. The world around me teems with life. The usual insects scurry around on the patio and buzz about the air. Birds warble, trill, pipe, and croon merrily all up and down the row of trees and underbrush. The distinct hum of tires on pavement carries over from the highway a couple of miles to the east. Small planes drone overhead, taking off from the small airport to our north. Barking punctuates the giggles and shrieks of neighborhood children at play. A nearby fire station sends off trucks with great alarm every so often. No, it couldn't be described as quiet *or* still, here. But it is home. 

I remember last year during the pandemic lockdown, the news referred to all of the above as "noise pollution". I understand the term. Yet, each of these noises contributes to the soundtrack of our daily lives. They are proof that the world continues functioning around us. The particular rhythm of life in our town is back on track as much as it can be. Quiet or no, pollution or not, these sounds bring peace. 

Gracious! Can I talk too much, or what? Maybe you didn't need that deep a look into my mind. My apologies. 

At any rate, that centering visit to my soon-to-be garden was exactly what I needed. It spilled into a calming weekend and the readiness to show my little plants the attention they deserve. I will list them here.

Tomatoes have my full attention, at the moment. In fact, outside of cabbage and Tigger Melon, they are the only seeds to have sprouted in my home. So far, we are growing 16 varieties:

Red Cherry
Yellow Pear
Indigo Pear *
Sunrise Bumblebee (a family favorite)
Pink Bumblebee *

Rio Grande

Roma

Wapsipinicon Peach Hybrid (shaped like beefsteak and larger than usual Wapsi)

Pineapple Heirloom
Mid-sized Yellow/Orange (grown from my Pineapple seeds last year and were deep yellow into orange instead of the yellow with red streaks advertised)

Boxcar Willie * (a gift from the farmer's market)

German Stripe *

Kellogg's Breakfast *

Chef's Choice Pink
Pink Brandywine (my personal favorite)
Hillbilly Potato Leaf (another favorite)

Beefsteak

The tomato varieties marked with an * are ones we have never grown before. Truth be told, I have my eye on five or six other varieties my favorite local vendor is selling, as well. =)

Tigger Melon (striped like a watermelon but in oranges like a pumpkin) is growing well. Last year, it got to about this size and then died. I had sewn it into a bale that had already-established squash vines. Their leaves hid the sun. I have higher hopes for this year. 

Golden Acre Cabbage is off to a good start. We also have strawberries flowering right now. 

As for actual flowers, my lilacs and roses are budding in spite of the cold nights and chilly days. Little Giraffe has a sunflower plant stretching merrily toward the sky. 

Last season's chives showed back up early this spring and are having a real go of it in their pot. I will make one last list. These are the plants I will also (hopefully) have started soon, whether seeded indoors or planted directly into pots and bales: 

Black Beauty Zucchini
Golden Crookneck Squash
Spaghetti Squash
Butternut Squash
Delicata Squash

Cucumbers (I'm not sure yet which variety)

Sugar Baby Watermelon
Hale's Best Jumbo Cantaloupe

Sugar Snap Peas

Green Beans

Watermelon Radish

Sparkler Radish

Detroit Dark Red Beet

Buttercrunch Lettuce (I may add more varieties here)

California Wonder Bell Peppers

Green Bell Peppers
Carrots
Purple Dragon Carrots

I believe that may be it? I haven't considered which herbs I would like to grow this year, yet. To be honest, I feel that I have done myself an injustice, having just 16 bales to work with. I will purchase no fewer than twenty from now on if I can help it. (Surprise, Hubs!) In the meantime, I will be adding a couple of smaller buckets to my yard. The place should be overgrown with produce before we know it. =)

In the meantime, I hope the air warms up enough to make life outdoors not just enjoyable, but mandatory. What a relief it would be to continue to 'wake up' mentally and emotionally. This is not to say that I haven't had moments of joy. I have returned to an old hobby that has made me smile frequently, whether or not my personality overall is kind of muted. I will blog about that separately. <3 Blessings to anyone who has read through this far.