Often at this time of year, I struggle with the “loss” of an early morning hour of light. But this year’s time change has been the worst that I remember. Maybe I am just getting old, crotchety, and inflexible. I really wish we could just cut out the “daylight savings” myth. Ben Franklin thought he had a clever idea. But not even a great inventor can be right 100% of the time.
Truth: we just cannot get more time by changing what time we say it is! We can’t save daylight – anymore than we can turn it off. Real time is fluid, constantly in flux as we rocket around our sun, in ever-changing yet predictable patterns. Predictable is good. If only, I tell myself, we would go to bed right at dusk, like the chickens, I tell myself, imagine how much better we ALL would feel (I tell myself, my kids, my husband). Stop projects, stop thinking, stop planning…and sleep. You can’t save daylight, and you can’t save sleep – you can just go get some more.
As long as we’re slinging mud at great Americans, Thomas Edison is another one who I have it in for lately. Without the light bulb –the TV screen – the computer screen – the cell phone screen – we would all go to bed like the chickens. Can you imagine trying to read a dark cell phone screen by candle light?? About the most highly intelligent thing that chickens do is file into the coop at dusk every day, for a full night’s rest. Get up with the sun, nature’s light bulb. Sleep more in winter, and don’t do anything you don’t have to do when heat and light are turned low.
But now it’s spring!! Tired or not, I have windows full of seedlings, yearning to breathe free, and garden beds to prepare for them. While these beds were not in use this winter and early spring, the chickens had free access. They did a super job of turning the soil, making it light and fluffy… also kicking a lot of soil out of beds… into the walkways…
Oh well, focus on the positives. From now on, seedlings planted in beds will need protection of wire walls and a roof. The first thing my raised beds need to be is chicken proofed – so that’s where I am headed next.
Turns out Edward and I are not in agreement on what comes first. Oh-oh…
The first thing the raised beds need, Edward says, is to be rebuilt, since they are rotting. I confess I would have ignored this, cheerfully planted up rotting beds, and moved on. The beauty of teamwork, and the frustration…
My garden partner is a far more speedy and efficient weeder than I, a remarkable green thumb, and an unexpected perfectionist about certain things that I am not. For instance he vies with the chickens in creating perfectly aerated, fluffy soil. Edward just loves to move dirt around. I am the better harvester, the seedling starter, the veggie preserver, and a perfectionist about certain things that he is not. It works out. Mostly. For now, the seedlings will have to lean into the window glass pining for sunshine another week – just as well, with last weekend’s temperatures. (One night 26 degrees…)
It works out. On we march, into April, aspiring to sleep like chickens. Dreaming of real spring…
Coming Soon: I have my Worm Consultant! But am I really ready for Vermi-Composting??
Suburban Growing 