Sculpin

It’s starting to feel like Spring might actually get here after all, even with this cold snap. Josh has been putting together a magnificent bamboo trellis/fence, and I’m making a long list of vegetable, herb, and flower seeds to order. Looks like we’ll be heavy on the legumes this year.

Some of the vegetable contenders: Alderman and Cascadia peas, Tom Thumb lettuce (so cute!), Ura pole beans, yellow scallopini summer squash, and all-blue potato. Shallots, though I’m a little late with those already. No tomatoes this year, I think. Last year’s crop was less than great, and we don’t have many places in the garden that a tomato would do well in, so I’m rotating them out this year. Besides, the farmer’s market practically specializes in good tomatoes.

Herb additions include parsley, cilantro, and garlic chives. Epazote will not be making a repeat appearance this year, unless it’s self-seeded (and I fear it has). That stuff is an acquired taste, and I haven’t acquired it. Yecch.

As for annual flowers, there I’m not so sure. I saved some Cupani sweet peas from last year, so there’s that. As for the rest, uh? Snapdragons? Schizanthus? Calendula? Borage? I’ll probably just take a random stab at some things and see if they grow. I’ve even thought about growing a little flax and experimenting with preparing the fibers, but I’m pretty sure I’d get to the retting stage and forget all about them for months on end.

Speaking of fiber, a while ago I ordered some not-too-pricey extra-fuzzy alpaca wool from Elann.com to test myself for sensitivity. I tied a hunk around my wrist and wore it for a couple of days with no more itching than I’d have had if it were cotton or acrylic. Hooray! So now that I know of a wool that won’t drive me up the wall, I’m thinking about picking up knitting again. It’s been almost ten years since I last tried — I was that bad at it. Really, truly, spectacularly awful, in a way that spoke of my character flaws. My gauge was so tight that if I knit a dishcloth I’d be able to stand it on end; I just couldn’t get myself to loosen up. My scarf was like chain mail. But I’m mellowing out in my old age, and perhaps I am capable of knitting a reasonably good dishcloth and maybe, eventually, something else.

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