I was wrong about the mushrooms being done. We got one more flush, probably a couple pounds. They seemed to be fine through our first frost, too, which was last night. But it was a light frost that even the tomato plants survived.
We harvested a few acorns, and some Jerusalem artichokes that voluntarily grew by the outside water faucet, today.
We lit our first fire of the season in the woodstove yesterday. We still have a lot of splitting and stacking to do for next season’s firewood.
Y’all, it’s May 20th. We’re nearly a month past the “last frost date” but we got frost last night. That ain’t right! Thank goodness we were able to use the last of the evening light last night to quickly cover our tomatoes, basil and peppers with old frosting buckets and quart mason jars. We also brought in all of our tender seedlings.
This little cold snap is great for our peas, lettuce, mizuna (if it ever sprouts), orach, and cutting mix. We’ve had a month of no rain and lots of 80 degree days. That’s not the kind of weather that cold weather crops thrive in. However it is the kind of weather that makes you confident that the last frost is nearly a month in the rear view mirror.
Yesterday I was shopping for a thermometer/hygrometer for Isaac to take on his mission (it was on the packing list). Many of them had happy/sad face to indicate whether the humidity and temperature were in a comfort zone. I don’t like the idea of weather determining my mood. I’d like to think that I choose my mood regardless of the temperature or humidity.
However, if erratic weather starts messing with my plants, I think I’m allowed to get a little ruffled. How is it that we can have such a strong seasonal pattern of winter, spring, summer, fall, but the individual days can be so uncharacteristic of the season they are supposed to belong to?? (And don’t say “climate crisis.” It was a rhetorical question.)
First frost.
We had our first significant frost last night. Frost was in the forecast about a week ago, so we harvested our basil, but it was a light frost.
Frost took out the tomatoes the night after we planted them, and the chickens tore up about a quarter of my garden row.
