Set The Thermostat, Then Leave The Damned Thing Alone

I've never been known for my patience, always in a hurry and wishing I was where I'm going instead of where I am. I tried to overcome this character flaw for many years, but some personality traits are just hardwired in the human animal, and impatience seems to be part of my permanent genetic programming.

Spring comes a bit earlier each year in my part of the world. It might have a bit of something to do with that imaginary climate change thing I keep hearing about, but the genius Glen Beck swears it's not, and we all know Glen Beck knows everything.

At any rate, the early spring is often a false start followed by a quick but brutal cold snap that zaps all the early fruit tree blossoms and foils all gambling gardeners who give in to the burning desire to plant.

This year looks to be no different.

We live in what used to be called climate zone 7, but over the past decade I've heard many of my neighbors talk about zone 7A & 7B. I'm not sure which way the division falls, but I do know that our last frost hasn't been anywhere close to April 15 for several years now.

Being unemployed for most of the last six months makes it even harder to sit here day after day while temps soar into the seventies and eighties, so once again I gave in to the urge.

Last week I planted carrot, kohlrabi, cabbage, and turnip seed, as well as a decent sized bed of white potato eyes under deep straw (12"). Yesterday I planted a long mixed row of beans, squash, and sunflowers along the trellis line I put up last weekend. My tomatoes and peppers, growing in a cold-frame I cobbled together from scrap windows and lumber last month are doing nicely (only one pepper sprout so far), growing a bit stronger every day.

I watched the local news this evening and the weather geek issued a freeze warning for our area - light, but still a freeze. I'm thinking that since most of these crops haven't yet sprouted they'll likely be fine, but just to be safe I commandeered a bale of hay I was going to use for something else and mulched all the newly seeded beds.

I have no doubt that this will ward off most, if not all the problems a couple of cold nights could present, but what I don't like is the prospect of all that fresh hay, chock full of seeds, leaving my gardens full of fescue that will have to be eliminated over the coming weeks and months.

Oh well, at least I've got the extra time on my hands for the moment.