It’s official; spring has sprung.
As a few cool/coldish weeks closed out the months of winter’s formal calendar and longer hours of daylight are upon us, there has appeared the contagious bounce of spring in the air, and with it the urge to tidy and organize my humble little castle.
But, first, as I share this with you, let’s talk about sequences.
When my girls were little, there was a delightful book that we read countless times – If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. It tells the tale of a mouse who, in his complaint of hunger, has been given a cookie. As he nibbled away on the cookie, he grew thirsty for some milk to pair with it. But, upon drinking the milk, he got an unfortunate milk moustache which then, of course, needed washing, and upon washing his unfortunate milk moustache he saw in the mirror that the hair on his little mouse head was woefully awry, calling for him to comb it which revealed several untamed hairs needing trimming, upon which required a search for scissors to trim them, and,.. and,.. and… after all this activity he was hungry again for a cookie which led to a tall glass of milk . . .
Sequences.
I am, therefore, fully aware that such things are rabbit holes that I could well be getting myself into, and is perhaps a most excellent excuse reason for why some of these springy things haven’t gotten done previously. Self-preservation from the deep abyss of sequences.
I’m feeling the buzz, tho, big time. There’s serious refreshment in this air and digging in to the multitude of undone doings. Call me fool or call me wise, I took the bait. Closets, drawers, corners, cluttered and polish-hungry surfaces beckon in this energy, but – ahead of incoming mosquitoes and brutal humidity – the sprouting outdoors heralds with a loud, coaxing voice. Things I’ve been wanting to do out there. So, first stop: replanting and feeding the garden.
This is an (at least) annual event and one of the best times of year in this part of Texas. Trees and blooms bud and flirt in overnight explosions of growth and color. And this year, in my garden fun – and that magnetic thread of sequences – I explored a few new curiosities, one of which involved carrots.
I have particular fondness for whole carrots with the leafy stems still attached, preserving so much abundant nutrition that is sadly lost when the tops are cut off. Not that they aren’t still incredibly healthy – they are! Just all the more to them and their nutritious goodness this way. And, I can include the tops in broth creations (or compost), enhancing all those delightful nutrients and using the whole vegetable.
So, in the sprung of spring energies these past weeks, as I prepped and ate a fresh delivery of carrots, I gave them some more love in planting the scraps of their trimmed, leafy tops. I’ve not done this sustainable trick before, tho I’ve meant to. And, as I’ve plenty of homemade broth tucked in the freezer, their repurposing got new life (literally) in some large garden pots just begging for their own spring fun.
As easy as it sounds, I still needed to research a few bits on the doings of carrot regrowth. It’s not the simple result my imagination hoped for. I wanted it to be that I plant those leafy heads in the ground and voila! A fat, juicy carrot grows underground. But – as per the garden sages of Google – apparently not, tho this activity still swings wide the door for more garden carrots in your future.
Here’s the thing: the planted nubs grow into leaves which then bloom lovely little flowers which then bud seeds which then can be planted in the garden which then grow into fat, juicy carrots underground which then boast more nice leafy stems… You with me here? Sequences.
So, in case you haven’t followed that, let’s walk through the finer points of what I’ve learned – learning! – in my carrot garden and sustainability hack:
~ Purchase some fresh, organic carrots at the farmer’s market, food delivery, or store, with untrimmed leafy stems still intact.
~ Trim the leafy stems to about 2 inches from where they attach to the carrot. (Don’t discard those leafy stem gems! Add them to broths or to your compost. If you don’t have a compost, then back yourself up and start one!)
~ Then slice the orange-y carrot top itself about 1/4 inch down, as a little carrot nub with a spiked head of punk green stemmy hair (this is the part you’ll plant).
~ Leave the knife on the counter and walk your bad self to the garden or large-ish, healthy soil-laden pot, little leafy punk carrot tops in hand. Slightly bury the carrot nubs (i.e. the orange carrot-y part) in the soil in bright sun.
~ Plant about 3 inches apart and water gently (and continue watering every 1-2 days). The leaves will grow fern-like and feathery while the roots sprouting down are more typical hairy things – alas, not carrots, yet. It’s after they bloom and seed that you’ll get to that stage in your sequences..
~ Tho this is my newest garden adventure and I cannot report on the end results, my little friends are snug, and fluffy, and thriving beautifully!
~ So, sing a song or two, think kind thoughts, enjoy the season, and watch ’em grow!
But, wait, there’s more.
After my Fun-With-Garden in the sprung of spring energies, and still feeling the fire, my attention averted to (drum roll...), The Beast, aka the garage. Let me downshift this delightful chat to bow my head in humble confession about The Beast. It has called to me and my efforts for some time now in its excess of boxen and stuffs, desiring better organizing, culling, and a modicum of breathing room to even – gasp – park my trusty automobile.
Let me clarify that I have had impressive times when such things occurred, but I’ve various collections (ahem, books) and two grown daughters who know I have a garage and all that space for any of us to fill it up with our excuses, most particularly my own. But not this time! On this day, as I ventured its lair for spring cleaning rags, the next sequence hooked me before I could blink. Fueled up on sprung buzz, the grip of The Beast tugged and I caved, thence inexcusably, enthusiastically tended – culled, groomed, shelved and re-re-re-organized, which, in this nitro, was nearish to masterpiece. The Beast was satiated (for now), rewarding me with renewed organization and a lovely space to park my car.
Mind you, these activities were a few days strung together, but the rewards fed my motivation to keep going. With The Beast offering up fresh space, of course the car was next, and none too soon there, either. The utter madness of pollen’s wrath in spring’s wake covered it (and everything) with a heavy blanket of yellow and flaky oak spindles. A thorough cleaning inside, and on the outside a washing and buffing, the old fashioned way – with bucket, hose, soft cloths, chamois, and elbow grease. A beautiful thing. The Beast opened its door in grand welcome to my car (and its blinding shine).
In these emerging days beyond winter’s veil, my energy somehow hadn’t yet waned, which was rather impressive to me. I took full advantage. After knocking out a couple pans of (very tasty) granola, I resumed my bread baking practice, and several batches of sourdough crackers with the cast-off sourdough starter that I had been feeding – and not “using”.
As the bread was baking, I opened a drawer in the hutch and was reminded, (as sequences do), oh look, this needs organizing. These other tasks were primarily solo duties, sans help from (mostly, sort of) castle leadership – Urie and Olivia. This task, tho, clearly warranted essential support and counsel from Urie. (Olivia, it should be said, has been through plenty of seasons with me and demonstrated her utmost confidence in my skills as she napped by the window.)
With the satisfaction of nicely organized drawers (and the closet I didn’t mention, or the freshly beaming wood furnishings now quenched with orange oil), and the intoxicating smell of fresh baked bread in the air, there came stormy weather warnings outside where my car was not parked (or vulnerable) anymore and the refreshed garden where her new carrot nubbings would receive some welcome rain – I sat myself down on the couch and relaxed, a sweet story wafting thru my mind. And, remembered … I really need to write another blog post.
