Tomorrow is the first 10-hour day in central Vermont. Despite Punxsutawney Phil’s forecast for six more weeks of winter in 2025, it is time to start thinking about the growing season. For me, it is time to sort the seeds, check the seed potatoes, toss the inevitable pantry rot, and clean up the weeks of neglect down there in my basement. But… compost.
My composters are both full and frozen solid. There is no small-scale composting possible in cold weather. The microbes that do the work of rotting down the plant materials are mostly dead right now. They are certainly not working so hard that they generate the heat they need to keep those plant materials from becoming solid rock. Winter composting only works in a very large pile of rotting stuff, one that has a central core that is well insulated from the cold. My piles are not even large by private standards because it is just me here… However, I do not have no kitchen waste. I need to compost scraps year round. And I can’t do that… because the composter gets full during the early winter processing of the harvest and then it freezes solid after the midwinter cold settles in.
Anyway, I decided to buy another bin, one that can live over in the veg garden and take most of the garden waste that gets composted as well as that post-harvest onslaught of peels and cores and damaged plant tissues that won’t store well. I will go up to Burlington to pick it up this weekend and will nestle it into the snow by the garage. For the next many weeks, composting kitchen scraps will entail carrying the slop bucket across the street and wading through the snow. But it’s better than throwing it in the trash. (Not least because that is actually illegal in Vermont…) I use compostable trash bags made mostly from corn starch. They sort of melt when exposed to too much liquid, and a pile of deliquescing food scrap is definitely too much… so I put that stuff into my waste can at my own peril.
I also finally bought what seeds and plants I need (OK… want…) for this growing season. I decided to try one more round of sweet potatoes now that I have a better toolkit for keeping the groundhog out of the veg. I also will go with one more round of Brussel’s sprouts. These are both foods I love to eat. The sprouts are only available for a short time and are rather expensive at the Co-op, so I would really love to have my own source for the few meals each year that include sprouts. The sweet potatoes, however, are one of my staples. I eat them all winter. They are not as costly at the store, but I would still like to grow my own, to have them in storage whenever I want one. Which is as often as I can get it… Sweet potatoes are also ideal storage food. They store better in a cool basement than regular potatoes, not needing temperatures so close to freezing nor needing humidity levels so close to actual rain… So… I’m going to try again.
I did not buy any bush beans this year. I have given up that fight. I have some yard-long pole beans that remain tender for long enough that I can reasonably expect to harvest edible pods. I also found some others at Fedco which sound promising. I did not buy as many pole beans as I did last year though. And I didn’t buy any peas. I am hoping my stored stock is still good, but truthfully if it isn’t, it will be no great loss as I hardly ever get to eat any of the peas I plant. (This is not only the groundhog. Chipmunks and squirrels, who do not find any obstacle in my garden bed barriers, both love eating peas — often obliterating the entire plant…) I also did not buy many winter squash and no decorative gourds or pumpkins. I bought neck pumpkins this year, hoping that they live up to their reputation for great pumpkin meat in a smaller overall package. I still have Waltham butternut seeds stored downstairs, so I guess I will plant those. I did buy a packet of blue Hubbard seeds, but the smaller fruiting variety. If I don’t get fruit, I will not be too upset because there are plenty of places to buy the one or two carving pumpkins and Hubbard squashes I need — for about the same money that I spend on a packet of seeds actually… so why am I growing them at all? I suppose because I like a good challenge from a worthy opponent… though I would like to win now and then…
For me, this time of year is when I usually would be starting the nightshades indoors under grow lights. I am not doing that this year though. I ordered plants from Burpee and seeds for a couple varieties of pepper that are supposed to withstand outdoor sowing in late May in New England. I am very interested in this. I am not fond of grow lights, but there is also no way to grow tomatoes in Vermont without an extra bit of “daylight” for several weeks. I suspect this will be solved in the future by either developing short-season tomatoes or nightshade seeds that germinate at lower soil temperatures. Or just forgoing tomatoes where the growing season is short. I hope that last is not true. So I am supporting all efforts to breed new Vermont-tolerant nightshades that do not require grow lights.
You know, if any of you want a project that will be both lucrative and extremely appreciated by your community, start breeding tomatoes and other displaced plants to be better adapted to your part of the world. This could be as easy as nurturing some of those volunteer tomato plants that sprout all over your garden (mostly in the paths between beds in my experience). See what their fruit is like. If you are not fond of it, cross it with something you do like. This just means taking pollen from one plant and using that to fertilize another. This task involves painting pollen on blossoms with tiny paintbrushes and feels sort of erotic, but it is not difficult or mysterious. It just takes time and patience. When the cross-fertilized plant sets its fruits, save the seed. After a few growing seasons of crossing a hardy, locally-adapted plant with a plant that grows fruit that you like, you will likely have a plant that is both locally-adapted and that produces yummy tomatoes.
I should say that these cross-bred plants are not hybrids, which is difficult and mysterious and normally involves specialized gadgetry. Hybridization does not produce seed that breeds true, though it does make for one season of vigorous growth and production. But hybrids tend to break down into their parent components in just one generation, if the seed is viable at all… which it often isn’t, depending on how genetically distant the crossed parents are. You are not making F1 hybrids with your paintbrushes. You are just nudging along the natural mixing of genetic information. This is how we have produced nearly all the food that we eat, and we have been doing this nudging for longer than we have been humans. (Think about that next time someone goes on about the superior toolkit of Modernity…)
In any case, this Imbolg season is time for taking stock of your own life, physically and psychologically. We are halfway through winter. We made it through to the growing season again. That is reason to celebrate. But it is also reason to reflect. This, right now, halfway through winter, this is who you are… You are who you are. More than that, you are what you do. Take stock in these days of growing light. And remember that you are the most important part of your life. Take care of yourself.
To that end, today is St Blaise’s feast day. Blaise is patron of cattle and wool-combers, but he is also associated with healing, especially of those maladies of the mouth and throat. Today, candles are lit to St Blaise to invoke protection from a sore throat and toothache. If you don’t entirely trust that candles are going to cut it and believe that maybe Blaise would be more likely to help through actual remedies, then you could do worse than brewing a pot of ginger and tulsi (sacred basil) tea. A tea of slippery elm is also effective if you already have a scratchy throat or a developing cough. It coats the throat, calming the irritation. Marshmallow root makes a delightful syrup to ease a persistent cough. In clinical trials, it performs as well or better than codeine-based syrups sold in the pharmacy — and it tastes much less… nasty. It is, in fact, candy. When you wake in the morning with a dry throat and a tickle, this is mostly from post-nasal drip. Make turmeric tea, or just cook with it, to reduce allergic reactions that cause those clogged sinuses. And when they are already clogged, gently boil sage and rosemary and then put your head in the steam covered by a warm towel. (I’m not sure the towel does anything… but it feels great!)
Blaise is also patron of wool. This is not quite the season of wool-combing, nor even shearing. However, this is when shepherds and goatherds are paying close attention to their flocks because the ewes and does are about to give birth. If you want wool to comb, then this is when protection of your flocks is most essential. Most domesticated ungulates need a little extra help in giving birth. They are living in conditions that cause them concern. Even if you provide excellent food and shelter, being in a barn in close proximity to noise and actual predators is not their first choice for a maternity ward. Moreover, they often are separated from their mothers before they learn mothering. So they are stressed and they are making it up as they go and then HOLY MOLY BUT THIS HURTS! Understandably, they need a bit of help at this time of year…
And we are so grateful for the wool they — and you — provide. It was -14°F this morning. The thing about that number is that it is not as cold as it has been. Nor is it unusual right now, though this winter has been colder than recent winters, mostly due to the growing El Niño and its tendency to make the polar vortex drip down into New England and the Upper Midwest. We are experiencing actual polar airstreams… I guess it could be worse…
But boy, it could be better also… My house is cold. I don’t have the direct heat of a wood-stove and rely on forced air moving through ductwork to deliver heat generated in the basement up to my bedroom on the second floor. The ducts are mostly insulated where they are exposed, but still, it’s asking quite a lot of physics to move heat by blowing air through many meters of metal duct. But that’s not the main problem with the house. The main problem is the windows.
I have decided that windows are stupid. They are wasteful in every way. Glass is a very good thermal conductor and heat moves from hot to cold, more energy to less. So every window in your house is letting heat out in the winter and conducting heat in during the summer. And my house has dozens of windows…
Glass takes a good deal of energy to make and transport, so it is inherently a somewhat wasteful use of resources. But the practical application of a window is even worse. Every wall with a window is wasted space. We try to justify this waste by saying we are letting the light in… But we aren’t home enough in the daylight hours to benefit from that, and when we are home we cover up the windows with blinds and curtains so that people outside can not see in to our private spaces. To a lesser extant we also use these window treatments to stop the heat flow. But mostly, we’re just trying to feel less exposed.
Every wall with a window is a wall that can’t hold furniture or storage capacity — or even art if you’re into that. This is part of the reason why American houses are so huge. Put a window in every exterior wall and you’ve removed the utility of all those walls. You have made them more porous to heat. You have made them less structurally sound. And you have created the need for more living space to make up for all the damn windows.
I think this urge to make wasted space and suffer the exposure (because our houses are not located on private estates anymore… the neighbors are Right There) is rooted in the same need to flaunt wealth that led to the lawn. Look at all the space I can afford to waste! Arbiters of style reinforce the value of uselessness by making empty rooms with lots of windows and no actual utility the desirable thing.
But you know what? I don’t want an empty room. I want a place for my books, for my linens, for craft supplies, for the root cellar and other forms of food storage, for kitchen tools, for musical instruments and for playing music, for living. I want all my stuff close to hand so that I will use it. It can be in a cupboard, but it should be where I am. I don’t want to be surrounded by windows (in a freezing room at this time of year). I want to be surrounded by my life. But then I am not notably fond of displaying wasted space that shows how wealthy I am. My lawn has been whittled down to a series of paths around garden beds that are mostly growing food, medicine and craft supplies. I mean, why advertise wealth anyway! Nobody is going to be overly fond of you as a rich wastrel, and you’re only inviting theft.
In the case of windows, you are inviting in the thieves and the cold.
And weather is absolutely crazy… On Tuesday, my town woke to microburst blizzard conditions. The winds were high, with sustained wind from the west at something near the 20mph that it takes to fully extend a heavy flag and gusts from all directions that rattled the windows with their impact. It had been relatively warm Monday, over 40°F, but the temperature — and pressure — had been dropping all night. By 5:30am it was about 25°F cooler than it had been at 11:30pm when I went to bed, and it was still dropping rapidly. Meanwhile, squally snow was riding the winds in pulses that could drop an inch or so in 20 minutes. At 5:45am, I thought I was seeing fog as I headed down the stairs, but fog at that windspeed made no sense. Fifteen minutes later, I looked out again, and the roads, which had all been melted clear on Monday, were blanketed in white. Visibility was limited to meters. I couldn’t see my garden across the street. Snow was plastering itself to the window screens, and my porch instantly became white.
Weather is crazy, but weather forecasting is just… not forecasting… or even getting the current conditions right. Last Tuesday was not unusual weather for Vermont in the late winter. It was strange that it came in the morning, but microbursts — the winter versions of which are colloquially named snow-squalls — follow their own dislogic… And yes, I know that makes it hard to forecast such things. But the weather forecast for Tuesday had been for more of Monday’s warmth with partially cloudy skies. Nothing about the wind that had been going on for days. Nothing about dropping temperatures, though there was a sharp downward incline in the projected pressure. And nothing at all about snow. I know it’s hard to plan on something so chaotic, but couldn’t there have been a little tentative hint that something big might happen? That dropping pressure in the weather modeling might have been enough of a warning sign to say, “Hey guys, just a heads up… there might be some fun ahead”.
A few years ago that would have been the forecast. Even a year ago, local weather-people would have mentioned it before moving on. This year, nada. But that was not the worst part…
As it was squalling furiously and blowing cows through town, I turned on my computer to note the weather as I usually do in the morning. What did I see there? The current conditions said breezy, with sporadic gusts up to 11mph, much lower than what the neighbor’s flag was telling me. And supposedly with this breeze was fog… which, can I just point out, wind and fog do NOT go together, ever… if that is what your machines are spitting out at you, you know the machines are wrong. Look out the window and correct the machines. The temperature was about correct, given my back porch thermometer, but there was no mention of snow. The eeriest thing was the radar. It was devoid of precipitation over my town. I zoomed out and saw a few patches over New York and western Vermont, but nothing where we were clearly experiencing heavy snowfall.
Again, maybe it happened too fast for radar. Maybe it was too small. This is a chaos weather pattern after all, mostly pure turbulence, and as such it can be extremely localized. But if the computer system is not picking up the weather that humans are experiencing, then it is on the humans to correct the system. You don’t leave something that faulty online. Because people are counting on those conditions and the short-term forecast that goes with those conditions. And many of those people who make decisions are so conditioned to believe whatever is on a screen that they too do not bother to look outside. Or they disbelieve what they are experiencing. But the long term effect of all this faulty forecasting is to undermine any confidence in forecasting. The more you get wrong, the less people are going to expect that you are ever right… and eventually, there will be no weather forecasting.
And we need forecasting. We need to at least be aware of the current conditions. Because we were not aware on Tuesday, there was no time delay for the start of school. Kids were huddled out in the mess waiting on busses, while cars skidded around the road. Following the school system (or just the weather forecast), businesses also opened at regular time. There were accidents all over. More than one of the young people who are forced to drive around the state to run the teller lines in my bank ran off the road. And by noon it was apparent that the wind was not blowing itself out anytime soon. The temperature continued to drop, reaching single digits with wind chills well into subzero range. But did we go home? Did we at least send the kids home? Nope… because, of course, you can’t send the kids home from school if there is also not some business accommodation to let parents out as well.
This is insanity. It is not merely New England masochism. It is stupid. A year or so ago, similar conditions closed up Main Street and sent everybody scurrying home to shelter.
But here we are… This insanity is partly because there are so few weeks in the year when there isn’t dangerously destructive weather now. If we all went home whenever it was prudent, we’d be working less than four days a week. Which would actually be great for most working people and even better for the planet, but probably devastating for businesses that require daily revenue streams. Not that you’re getting many customers when the weather is insane. But you’re not getting any customers when you close the doors and stay sanely safe.
In any case, we survived again, proving that we can just keep muddling along at the cost of a few dented bumpers and minor concussions even in extreme weather. Muddling along, that is, until we can’t. But we won’t know where that line is until we cross it. In the meantime, I text my son many mornings just to make sure he that made it to work safely — because he totaled his car getting to work in last March’s snow storm. And in this cold, even a mild car wreck in the boonies could prove fatal. At -14°F you can freeze to death pretty quickly. So this mother worry is not entirely unfounded.
But I can’t do anything more than worry. The weather is implacable. The mulish insanity is recalcitrant. And all I could do if there was an accident is call the emergency responders… who are also hampered by the bad road conditions and dangerous weather. So it’s not the best way to start the day…
I feel sort of like a pregnant ewe… stressed, making it up as I go, and the occasional and rather unpredictable HOLY MOLY THIS HURTS!!!
But at least we are halfway through winter. Tomorrow will be brighter than today. Tomorrow will be one day closer to spring for every tomorrow until there are flowers. And tomatoes. And sweet potatoes… and then we do it all over again.
Sigh…
