The Minnesota Farm Woman

<![
<![

Read Full Post »

Once again, it is time for my semi-annual thought provoking column about the joys and sorrows of gardening in the north.  I think about this garden all winter.  I plan where each vegetable will be planted.  I sketch it out on paper in front of a crackling fire each January, afghan over my lap to keep me warm and Chihuahua under the afghan.  I wait patiently for spring.  This year, I had to wait a little longer than usual, as Mother nature played a cruel trick on us and dumped two feet of snow on the ground in late April.  When it finally melted, my favorite garden tiller (the man, not the machine) was suffering from a bad case of the gout, so he hired a bigger stronger garden tiller (both man and machine) to get ‘er done.   There is nothing at all like putting tiny little seeds into the ground on your hands and knees, then watching the plants emerge from the soil.  Inch by inch they grow, nourished by the warm sun and gentle summer rain. Can’t you just hear the chirping of the birds overhead and the buzz of the bees?  Now for the real story:  I had a couple of busy weekends, and the weeds got away from me.  They are everywhere, and are growing like….weeds!  I can’t find my zucchini plants, and the Canadian thistle is overtaking the raspberry bed.  The mosquitoes are terrible this year, and I have lots of itchy bites to prove it. Some nasty little woodland creature ate my strawberries.  These are the same strawberries that I carefully planted and  nurtured last year and have been weeding carefully this year, noting the dozens of green berries only the week before. I am also wondering how a Farm Woman, and a full-blooded Scandinavian one at that, cannot grow a rutabaga.  Mine are always pitiful looking and this year, something is chewing on the leaves.  They look even worse than the beets, which are tiny and stunted, and I can’t even find the Swiss chard. I decided to grow only a few potatoes this year, as last year’s crop wasn’t that great and had potato bugs.  This year, they are thriving, and not a bug in sight.  There are even some “volunteer” potatoes coming up from where I had them planted last year, and they are overtaking the Brussels sprouts.  All around the garden are volunteer tomato plants, which have so far survived a 30 below winter, three feet of snow, a late spring, a tiller, and a weed-pulling rutabaga-impaired Farm Woman.  Direct-seeded tomato plants usually don’t produce anything due to the short growing season here, but I couldn’t bear to pull them up. They are small, but look like healthy plants and are blossoming already.  It will be interesting to see what kind of fruit these strong little plants will bear.

Read Full Post »

Show me a man with a tattoo and I’ll show you a man with an interesting past.”  Jack London

I am a people watcher, and I have come to the conclusion that I am one of the few remaining adults around who does not have a tattoo.  It seems like people of all shapes, sizes, and ages have some sort of body art.  Here in northern Minnesota, you don’t notice the tattoos as much most of the year because everyone is dressed for the weather, but this week’s blazingly hot temperatures have brought out the good, the bad, and the ugly. I have never really had the desire to get a tattoo, but if I did, it would definitely be on the small side, and perhaps a heart or a flower or a little banty chicken. Some folks have both pictures and words tattooed on their skin. The words usually have personal meaning, but are the rest of us supposed to read them, or would I be committing a faux pas by staring at a stranger’s arm, back, or chest?  I’m serious here, because I don’t think “Miss Manners” has written about the proper etiquette of  tattoo viewing for her gentle readers.  I’m talking about the visible tattoos here.  I really don’t want to see ALL your tattoos, thank you very much.  Although they are definitely on personal space, they are out there for all to see.  Is it polite to look, or should one avert one’s eyes?  Ask or not ask? Often, tattoos tell a story of children, lost loved ones, or military service, and the both the stories and the pictures can be fascinating.  Grandparents, too, are getting into the act with names, birthdays and even faces of grandchildren, but it could be painful for those with lots and lots of grandchildren. Tattoos on wrinkly skin are not the most attractive things in the world, either.  Before you send me hate mail, I am not insinuating that all grandparents are old and wrinkly, but remember that most of us will be some day.  I recently saw a man with many tattoos of different ladies tattooed across his back, and I wondered if they were ex-wives, sisters, or famous female rock stars of the seventies.  I didn’t stop him to ask, but I must admit I peeked at his back every time he passed just trying to figure it out. I hope he didn’t notice, but then again, perhaps he wanted all of us to look and wonder.  Body art can be plain and simple or large and beautifully colored, and if it is your body, it is your choice to have as many tattoos as you want, or none at all.  I do have a word of warning, however:  Do not have your true love’s name and “always and forever” tattooed across your backside.  Tattoos are way more “always and forever” than true love has ever been.

Read Full Post »