Some of my seeds have actually sprouted. I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to know that unless I screw up royally we shall at least have lettuce and eggplant this summer. I planted my tomatoes today and have them nestled in the same warm place as the other seeds. Hopefully they'll prosper and I can practice my canning skills on the surplus (I intentionally bought too many heirloom seeds for that purpose). I used a mixture of peat moss, vermiculite, and perlite in equal parts for my starter mixture, if you're interested. You just mix it all together and add water. This tip was from Gayla Trail's website You Grow Girl. I am being very ambitious, to say the least, considering that I live in a dorm room and have a very understanding roommate who pretends not to mind when I drag bags of dirt and vermiculite in and out, leaving a trail of soil behind me.
Ah, it is midnight yet again and I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY!!! And so much to do but since it's reading Shakespeare I think that can wait until tomorrow, if not next week.
I started work on the farm yesterday and will be going back tomorrow AND Saturday. I can hardly contain myself. I even enjoy doing cheese-kitchen dishes. I am a hopeless case. We are preparing for the local artisan bread festival market this Saturday in the midst of watching over goats giving birth. I myself had the privilege of seeing a birth. It was really quite spectacular. This tiny, fuzzy baby goat just plops out and the mother stands there as if to say, "Yeah, I did that--what of it?" If you have never seen a baby goat you should really just indulge me and follow this link and scroll down to the bottom of the page and try not to lose your composure.
Anyways, between mixing chevre, washing dishes, and looking after does, it was a busy afternoon. Chris, who is basically my "boss" and cheesemaker extraordinaire, took me to see where I will be living this summer. It's a little sketchy. The driveway scares me. Chris put the truck in 4-wheel drive going up, and I'm thinking "But I can't really do that in my car." She says they'll be scraping the road soon and so it won't be as bad, but I'm envisioning myself parking at the bottom of the hill and just walking up. The place is essentially just this little, single-wide trailer perched (literally, perched) on top of a really big hill. It's going to need some loving to get it to where I want it, aesthetically speaking. But I'm thinking that some curtains, rugs, and artwork will be sufficient. There are several perks, though, for which I am willing to forgo luxury (the Plaza Hotel this ain't, kids)--namely, a nice garden spot, an abandoned flower bed in front of the house that is perfect for tomatoes, a view that people ordinarily dish out millions to get, and some peach trees. Not to mention the absolute solitude of the place--no road going by and very few neighbors--and some excellent hiking trails. I actually can't wait to move in, even if it is sketchy.