Cheapskate seed starting

 It's the time of year again where I start planning my garden. Yep, the depths of winter is when the forthcoming year's garden actually starts. In my head, if not in actuality. My seed catalogs arrived at the end of November/beginning of December and since then I've spent a few pleasurable evenings with a mug of tea and NO children around to figure out what varieties I want to plant. This year it's both more and less than one would expect. I have a supply of seeds saved from previous years (and I don't save my seeds particularly well, so I expect there will be some that have gone off by now--I'll have to do a germination test) but I also used up a lot of my seeds in the school garden in the spring. There are also some seeds that I use all of pretty much every year, like carrots. I still haven't found the sweet spot for how much carrot seed to order.

For quite a while I've been trying to come up with the most economical AND waste-free way to start seeds. I have several trays that fit the small peat pods for seed starting, and they work all right, but they're not particularly cheap nor are they waste-free. They're also small, so I have to move the pod into something larger or move the plants out to the garden pretty quickly. That means that I have to be very organized with when I start seeds and, well, that's not my strong suit. The pods are also an external input that come in plastic bags and who knows what happens on the production end? I'll keep the trays and use the last of my pods but I would like to find a better solution.

I also looked at soil blockers, which are pretty much what they sound like--a small device to make blocks of soil. They're not particularly expensive if you're going to start a lot of seeds that way over a long period of time. But, will it really be worth it to keep a single-use item around? There are other problems beyond the price, too. From what I've read, the soil has to be pretty precise in its conditions to stay as a block rather than just falling apart. And then, still, I need something to keep the soil blocks in while the seeds are starting.

Preferably, I don't want to buy a brand new thing just for this process. The little six-pack seed starting trays are decently cheap but they last, max, only a few seasons before they break. And again, I would be buying new plastic over and over to start my seeds.

So I'm trying something new this year. Several new things, actually. I have to say that if I didn't have the greenhouse then I wouldn't have the space to experiment with this. People with garages and decent sized sheds, or those who are only starting a few seeds, might also have the space for starting their own seeds. In the past, however, my seed starting space was either in the kitchen taking up already limited counter space or a single shelf down in the basement storage room, which didn't get any natural light. Not ideal. In addition to the lack of space, I also had to think about any potential messes. Water on the floor, soil in the house. So this year with the greenhouse I can finally experiment because I have space and it doesn't really matter if the greenhouse gets dirty. (Within reason--I will sweep it out and take care of water on the floor.)

The takeout place we get Thai food from occasionally boxes the absolutely delicious foods up in plastic containers. Generally when I see things like that I start thinking about how I can re-use them. In this case, I'd seen ideas for a greenhouse within a greenhouse--containers with a clear lid can be put into a greenhouse to make a mini greenhouse within a greenhouse. Since these ones have not only a clear top but a black bottom, to help draw in light and heat, they seem pretty perfect. The greenhouse, since it's unheated, does get down to the ambient temperature at night, providing only a slight protection because the plants are out of the wind and rain. The mini greenhouses should add another layer of protection against the cold for tender, heat-loving seedlings. The containers are wide and shallow, so whatever I start in them is going to need to also have shallow roots or to be transferred quickly to a larger pot. I don't consider them ideal but I do think it's better than some other methods. The same thing can be done with the plastic containers that rotisserie chicken tends to come in, like the ones from Costco.

The second thing I'm trying can be (will be) used in conjunction with the mini greenhouses. I've been saving all of my household's toilet paper rolls to make mini seed-starting pods. Instead of having all of my seeds jumbled together getting their roots tangled up, so I have to tear some of them to plant them, I can start each seed in a tiny pot made of the thin cardboard of the toilet roll. They'll break down as the seedlings get watered and I can plant the whole thing with the seedling out in the garden. For deep rooting plants, like tomatoes, it won't matter too much if the paper constricts the roots close to the plant because they seek out deeper soil anyway. For shallower rooting plants I can cut the side of the tube before I plant the seedling, or just remove it entirely, if I don't think they'll break down sufficiently or if they seem to be constricting the roots.

The toilet paper tubes can be cut in half for smaller plants or left long for those that need a longer root. They could also be moved from a mini greenhouse to a larger pot still in the greenhouse, which is likely what I'll do with my tomatoes before I move them outside sometime in May. Or even June, if it's a cold spring.

The final seed starting tray I'm using are my egg cartons. When we lived in Alaska we could turn egg cartons in at the farmer's market so that they could get re-used. Around here, however, regulations don't permit the reuse. (Silly.) So instead I'm saving them up and they're being put to use starting seeds. They're quite handy because they already come with their own little wells to keep seedlings separated. They're cardboard, so they could break down on their own and get planted in the soil to continue holding water around the seedling, providing moisture. I could cut them out to plant whole, or possibly scoop the seedling and soil out if, again, I don't think they're going to break down sufficiently and will constrict the roots of the plant. They also have a convenient top to help hold in heat and moisture as the seeds begin their growth. I will have to take the tops off much earlier than the plastic lids, however, to let in light for the seedlings. So these are more useful for seeds that don't need as much heat to get started. On Christmas Eve I went out to my greenhouse and started 60 onion seeds. Hopefully. That's how many onions I planted, but we'll see if any of them actually germinate. They're last year's seeds and onions are rather notoriously quick to lose potency. They also require as long a time as possible to set a proper bulb. I planted some out in the garden early in autumn and a few of them are doing all right. I still don't quite have the hang of onions, so I'm trying to work out what's best.

All of these options are free, or at least didn't cost any extra for me. Even if I didn't buy any of these items, like if I was vegan, I would ask friends or my Buy Nothing group for them. Even better, all of these options also take something out of the waste stream. They are, at worst, downcycling, which is slightly better than recycling and worlds better than throwing them in the trash. The mini greenhouses are sturdy enough to get many years' use out of them, and the cardboard might add some slight fertility or water retention enhancement to the garden. Yay!

One note: Though I grow a large garden and I grow almost all of it from seed, I don't actually start much of it in pots. Seedlings don't like to be moved around much and some of them are quite picky about it. Squashes, in particular, hate to be moved or have their roots disturbed. Starting them indoors might give you a few extra weeks but those weeks can be lost to transplant shock. I did a side-by-side comparison after moving into this house and starting squash in the garden led to by far more robust and healthier plants. I also lost quite a few of my squash seedlings that year because the roots were disturbed too much transplanting them. That's always a shame, both for the plant and the hard work the gardener has put into it. So I tend to only start indoors the things that really, truly need a longer season than they will get naturally in Seattle. Tomatoes, peppers, things of that nature. The onions, which won't germinate outdoors until much later in the season, also need the head start despite the fact that they're more cold-tolerant than almost all of my other indoor started seeds.

How is the greenhouse working out?

Obviously it's too soon to tell this will change things in the long term, but I've been observing things closely. The temperature during the day is generally 10-20 degrees higher than the ambient outdoor temperature, even on cloudy days. On the darkest days, the cloudy days we had around the solstice, we technically got daylight for 8 hours but it's more like "daylight". Frugal energy saving maven that I am, even I had a few lights on all day to fight the feeling of all-day twilight. Alaska might have had less total daylight than we do here, but the days were never quite as dark as they are here. Most winter days in Fairbanks are sunny, and at night the moon and starlight bounces off the snow to make it seem surprisingly bright. Here...here the days are just grim in the winter. I know I'm going to need to start most of my seedlings under light if they're going to grow properly. It will also keep them a bit warmer, so it will provide two benefits in one. Because while the daytime temps are higher, as I said earlier the nighttime temperatures are not any warmer. 

If you're going to start seeds under light, be sure to check on what the seeds actually need. I won't do any artificial lights for my onion seedlings because too much light can trigger them to set their bulbs, leading to super tiny onions. They need to get as robust as possible before the long days of summer (10-12 hours of daylight for short-day onions and 14 hours for long-day onions) triggers them to start bulbing. I assume it's a similar mechanism for garlic, which I started in the garden back in September.

The plants in the greenhouse are protected from the wind and rain, which does give them a boost but it won't be a seed starting catch-all, even with lights. Some plants need warmth to start. Peppers, for instance, have an optimal soil temperature of 80-85 degrees. They'll start down around 70 degrees but not really much lower than that, and the germination rate won't be as good. They need the heat all through their growing process, so the mini greenhouses within a greenhouse and the seed starting lights are going to be my best allies if I want to grow my own peppers from seed. And I really do, both for the variety I can get and the cost savings I can accrue. I can open them up during sunny days to catch all the warmth and light that they can, then close them up to keep the tiny seedlings warm at night.

The seeds that I started at the beginning of November are doing well, but they're still quite tiny. I think it's mostly due to the lack of light as opposed to the lack of warmth, since they're all varieties that will grow in the winter here even without a greenhouse. They were just started when we were heading into the darkest part of the year. They'll grow a bit faster from here on out as the days start to get longer and brighter. I didn't feel the need to set out the grow lights yet because, well, they'll become food soon enough. In the meantime I'm focusing on the foods we've purchased, what's still in the garden (lots of tiny carrots, small cabbages), and what we preserved from the summer.

I did plant two other things in the greenhouse, however. The first is a cold hardy plant that doesn't need any light for a while: potatoes. I started a few potatoes in grow bags because, well, why not? Being self-sufficient in potatoes this year was a surprise and revelation. It turns out that when we have hundreds of pounds of potatoes to eat, we eat lots of potatoes. I could echo a hobbit, talking about all the ways we've eaten potatoes. And it's been delicious, every bite of it. Baked fries has even become a midnight snack of choice for the midnight snackers in my house. (The trick is to boil the potatoes before coating them in oil and baking. Trust me. It takes a while but is so worth it.) So I'd like to keep this going and this is both a free and easy way to start some spring potatoes. I'll likely be harvesting them about the time we run out of last summer's, and before next summer's are anywhere close to ready. I didn't plant many, just four, but even if I only get four meals out of them then that's still four meals where I didn't have to pay for some of my food. 

I could plant potatoes in the garden but they'd be more likely to rot this early due to the heavy rains, and if they didn't then they wouldn't get much of a start because of the cold. The greenhouse takes away those two problems. (Areas that are colder but have less rain, you can plant the potatoes in the fall and they'll just be mostly dormant in their soil bed until the soil warms up enough in spring, when they'll get the earliest possible start. Planting them under black ground cloth under a tarp to keep the soil warmer would likely give them a very good head start in the spring. As soon as it starts warming/lightening up pull back the tarp so the black cloth has a chance to capture the sun and heat up the soil. Then switch to a row cover when the plants pop up.)

Terrible picture, I know. I'm sorry.

The second thing that I started is a new one for me: a sweet potato. These do not grow anything at all like regular potatoes, because botanically the only thing they have in common is that they're both tubers. Sweet potatoes originated in Central America and are a warmth-loving crop. They need a very long season to grow, far longer than summers in Seattle. But it's perfectly possible to grow them around here, and even in areas farther north. You just need to know how to get them started, because tossing a sweet potato in the ground like a seed potato will NOT grow sweet potatoes. You need to start slips. The most common way of doing this is to stick toothpicks in an organic sweet potato (because non-organic ones can have sprays to suppress growth of slips) and stick half of it in a glass of water. The method that many people say is much better, however, is to start them in moist soil. So that's what I'm doing. I have one of the Costco rotisserie chicken containers so that's what I currently have a sweet potato in, half buried and very moist. (I tried one of the smaller containers first but the potato was bumping right up against the top, so the slips would have nowhere to grow.) We'll see if this works or if I just wasted a yummy sweet potato. If it does work, however, one sweet potato can provide the slips, or starts, for many plants. Each one will need to be removed and then rooted in water before being planted. They're a vine, so if you want to grow them you should keep that in mind for your spacing, but they have many companion plants. My plan is to grow them in bags with a mini variety of popcorn (also a new one for me this year). The bags can be started in the greenhouse to give the sweet potatoes the longest possible season. Then I'll move them to the front yard, where they will get the most sun while staying out of the way. Apparently fussing too much with sweet potatoes will stunt the harvest. My kind of crop.

Seeds!

I don't know about you, but I'm excited for seed starting season. I've been poring over my seed catalogues, dreaming about what I want to plant. I've got a rough outline on my computer of how I want the garden planted this year, keeping in mind crop rotation so that no area of the garden is stripped of nutrients and no pests or diseases from last season have a second shot at their preferred target. Combine that with different light needs, different light in areas of my garden, and differing plants heights, it's a decent amount of work. But I'd so much rather be doing this work than not. 

I put in my seed order early, just after Christmas, to ensure I get all the ones I most want. Even then many varieties were sold out already. It's best to put in seed orders earlier than you think you need to, otherwise you risk things being sold out. In some cases this doesn't matter but many plants have varieties that are better for northern or southern growers, long and short seasons. I would hate to miss out on all the short season corn varieties and be left with only ones that are good for longer seasons. I would likely have to skip out on growing corn entirely, which wouldn't be the biggest loss but would be frustrating. So get your seed orders together by, at the latest, mid-January and then get those seeds.

Happy garden dreaming. Happy seed starting.

Greenhouse

One of the biggest projects that we've had on our home wish list has been a greenhouse. I'm sure this comes as no surprise to anyone. As excited as I am to have a winter garden, and as thankful as I am that I can garden year-round here, it's still an imperfect solution. For one thing, while my garden is beautifully sunny for 3/4 of the year it lies half in shade during the winter. Cloudy days actually help a little, because they diffuse the light so the shadows aren't as bad. However...then it's cloudy. When the weather gets cold the plants also grow sloooooooooooowly, if at all. Spinach over-winters but puts out maybe one new leaf a week when it's both cold and dark. To make even one salad over the winter I would need a whole row dedicated to salad greens. Many plants do better--kale and chard grow beautifully throughout the winter--but growing enough for a family to eat their fill takes a lot of space, and it would require a lot of coordination at the beginning of spring and end of summer to plant new seedlings. End of summer is particularly problematic because that's when I'm also busy canning and preserving, harvesting, planning the best uses for all of our produce so none of it goes to waste. And those are just the garden chores, on top of regular life with two young children.

I also wanted a dedicated space for seed starting in spring. In the past my tiny seedlings have been kept in either the dark of our storage space downstairs, under grow lights, which didn't produce the strongest seedlings, or in the kitchen, where they grew leggy, toward the big sliding door where the light came from. Both years they were knocked over by my younger child, so I ended up with only half the seedlings I wanted and had no idea what they were until much farther in their maturity. It turns out that all tomato varieties look the same, as do peppers, and brassicas all start out looking the same. It would have been helpful last spring to re-plant my cherry tomatoes if I'd known that all of them were toddler casualties. Or, you know, to just not have toddler casualties from the start.

Last, we have a problem of storage space on our property. We have a shed, but it's both non-optimal and clearly needs a re-do. The roof is looking poorly and even I can see that there are rotten boards. We've been meaning to re-do it since we bought the house but, well, it's on the list. We use it for storage of the larger tools, but the smaller tools haven't had a great place to live. We store them in boxes under the stairs but, again, that's been labeled "temporary" storage as we'd prefer to house things like the grill under there instead.

So, a greenhouse. This was no small undertaking and I'm practically worthless when it comes to planning out woodworking projects that are more than "saw and then hammer or drill". HusbandX was more confident of the actual work but when it came to planning he wanted his dad's help. My father-in-law is, after a lifetime of working on these kinds of things, a bit of a genius when it comes to making the maximum use of space while being efficient with materials. My in-laws were also missing both their sons and granddaughters, so we arranged to have a long visit with them while COVID cases were relatively low in both of our states. They came for a whole month, which was both wonderful and slightly crazy. My brother moved back from New York the week after they arrived, so for over four weeks we had a household of 8. Lots of help, but also a lot more to do and a lot more people to keep track of.

My father-in-law brought along a book called "The Solar Greenhouse", and the pictures were pretty much exactly what I'd been imagining. Instead of a plastic covered frame, more like a high tunnel, this book is about wood-framed glass greenhouses. If we could swing it, if it wouldn't be too expensive, this was what I'd prefer. It would be sturdier, to hold up against the windstorms we frequently get here, and would hopefully be able to hold up even if a branch from one of the trees around us happened to fall on it. It would also, hopefully, be warmer. Maybe?

Tiny helper

The site of the greenhouse was never in question. We have one corner of our yard which has gone mostly unused. When we bought the house whoever did the landscaping had made this raised corner, fronted by jagged boulders, into what was supposed to be a little seating area. Succulents were planted among the boulders and the top was covered in large rounded gravel, with a few pavers as stepping stones. It was meant to be a hangout area, perhaps with a fire pit on it, but it quickly became overgrown by the neighbor's uncontrolled blackberries, ivy, and bindweed. The black plastic under the gravel was no match, to a laughable degree, for the vines. (Side note: please stop using that plastic in your landscaping. It's awful.) We even had a maple tree and a holly that have tried to grow among the boulders. But, this is also the sunniest part of the entire yard. It gets all day sun, comfortably backed by trees but otherwise in the open, well away from the shade of the house or any other structures. Even in the darkest days of the year, this corner of the yard will get the full 8 hours of mostly cloudy daylight that December in Seattle boasts.

The project got off to a bit of a slow start as there was a slight miscommunication to me about urgency as other small house projects were worked on, such as organizing the children's now-shared closet. I wanted to check with a neighbor about some windows that have been leaning against our shared fence since last spring, accumulating bindweed vines and blackberry brambles. And then I took care of other chores and to-do items instead. By the time I got around to it, it was a weekday and apparently our neighbor has a 9-5. I finally, in the evening, knocked and met his (young adult) daughter and exchanged phone numbers. She promised to pass my message along to her dad and give him my number.

After all of that, it was a bust. Apparently he's been letting those windows accumulate dirt and vines because he needs them. Instead, my brother suggested that we go to a local place called Second Use to look for windows. How had I never heard of this place before??!! It's amazing. No surprise by the name, it's a second hand store for building materials and supplies. It had antiques to nearly-new items from toilets and urinals to bricks to lockers. Some high school gym must have gotten a complete overhaul because there were, as I said, lockers and also pine boards from bleachers. Truly authentic, they still had wads of chewed up gum stuck to them. My father-in-law actually looked at those as potential siding but ultimately decided against it. But we found all of our windows there, the concrete blocks we needed, and a few other items. One of them is a metal bike rack for parking, like you see outside of businesses. Building bike parking was also on our to-do list but we saw the rack, slightly bent, realized that all of our "daily ride" bikes, including the children's bikes (6 in total), would fit on it, and it was only $40. SOLD. We could not have built a bike rack for cheaper and it would certainly have taken much longer. We slid that bad boy under the neighbor's giant juniper tree that straddles our fence, an area that is covered by the branches and stays nearly bone-dry no matter how nasty the weather. It's also right by the walkway leading out of the yard, highly convenient, and isn't visible from the street/sidewalk.

We could have bought this
ancient exercise machine from
Second Use. Missed
opportunities.

So, the windows. We got three windows from Second Use, one of which is ENORMOUS. Six feet by seven and a half feet. New, this window easily would have cost us $600-700. Instead it was $125. The other two, much smaller, windows for the side of the greenhouse were not quite as cheap but still a fantastic deal. I think in total we only spent about $300 on the windows.

For the door, we already had that. When we bought our house it had a storm door on the front. The day we moved in, a friend was carrying boxes in for us and the door just fell off. We tucked it around back figuring we'd do something with it at some point, and then it stayed there for 3 years as we did nothing at all with it. It's all glass so I figured it would be a great door for the greenhouse. My father-in-law gamely worked it into his plan, which had to be re-worked several times due to the unknown size of the windows. 

Lumber, on the other hand, was where we spent the big bucks. Apparently the price of lumber is sky-high, due to both increased pandemic demand as people do house projects and likely due to supply disruptions. So I waved goodbye to just over $1000 the day we went to the hardware store and bought all of the lumber and plywood. Had we found used lumber and plywood, or used something like pallet boards, it would have been much cheaper. However, despite looking, we didn't find any of the lumber we needed at Second Use, and all the work of deconstructing and then constructing pallet wood would have taken far, far longer than our actual budgeted time. This one was a time vs. money cost that not even I questioned.

Then came building, which I mostly stayed out of. I swung a hammer a few times, but it was near one of the windows and I was very uncoordinated both because it's been so long since I used a hammer and because of my terror that I'd smash the glass. But also, I was dealing with this:

The boot came after the construction was
done. It was the realization that it
wasn't plantar fasciitis but actually a
stress fracture that I had to deal with,
limping around and finally going to urgent
care because my primary care wouldn't see
me for at least 6 weeks. Whee.

Painting was where I shone and did my major contribution. While the sides and front of the greenhouse were being framed, on the patio, I got busy painting the back wall, which is entirely plywood. Being on the north side and backed by trees it won't take in light so it's more valuable as insulation and providing strength to the entire building. Since it would be backed right up against the fence I painted it before it was moved. Why paint it? For one thing, as weather-proofing. I don't want it rotting out so we have to re-do it in a few years. But also, we want this to look nice even for our neighbors since it abuts our two properties. We painted it green, to which my older daughter said, "Well yeah. It's a GREEN house." So I had to explain to her why a greenhouse is not just a green house. I remember my mother having the same conversation with me when I was young, so that was a fun circle to make.

The kids helped me paint that big back wall, brushing paint on in old t-shirts of mine while I went over it all with the roller, and then with a brush to cover up any divots. When it came to the trim, however, I did that on my own. Sawhorses on the grass, I worked on that for a couple of hours one afternoon, until the light was almost gone and my toes had gone numb with the cold, my hands frozen into claws. There were still a few pieces of trim to paint the next day, as well as various other patches to make.

The final piece of the greenhouse was that we wanted a rain barrel. I wanted to kick myself because I'd seen two at Second Use the first day we were there, but they were snagged by someone else within ten minutes of me noticing them, when we were deep in conversation about windows. They were plastic anyway, and I was hoping for (but not holding my breath for) metal rain barrels. Seattle has a program called Rain Wise, and we live in an area that's important to the watershed and salmon, so we would get reimbursed for rain catchment systems. However, we would have to go through a contractor for that and for such a small project I really didn't want to hire it out, even if it would mostly get reimbursed. I looked at metal rain barrels and they're expensive. Really expensive. I looked at eBay for steel drums and discovered that they sell for well over $100. Okay. Just for giggles, I checked Craigslist. Someone was selling food safe steel drums for $20 each. The dimensions of the barrels were given in the ad, and after making arrangements to pick them up I measured and re-measured the back of our car to ensure they'd fit. My husband grumbled that I'd never fit two of them in our small hatchback, possibly not even one of them let alone two, so I was quite gleeful when I got to text him a picture of the barrels snuggled into the back of our car, the back seat folded down.

Steel drums in the back of our Subie.
Look at all that extra space!

The rain barrels will help in two ways. First, they will reduce the water bill that inevitably comes with a city garden. But second, and just as important, it will save me a lot of labor. The greenhouse is on the far corner of the yard from the house, and farthest away from the corner where the water spigot is. Our hose doesn't reach all the way to the greenhouse, so I would have to be running back and forth with a watering can or a bucket, or both. Ugh. I don't mind the hard work and labor of gardening, in fact I enjoy it, but when I can save myself time doing something unnecessary I am all over that.

The last part of putting up the greenhouse is a bit of a blur to me, running back and forth as I was between working on that and taking care of other things inside the house, like laundry and cooking for 8 people. (The kids, thankfully, were basically passed into my mother-in-law's capable hands for everything from school to playing games and going for walks.) I changed into and out of my painting clothes at least three times one day as I went out to paint a bit of trim that had been cut to fit in a different way or do some other dirty work.

The roof of the greenhouse is sloped down to catch the most light and warmth, as well as the rain. We used clear corrugated plastic for it because it's cheap and reasonably sturdy. There are bits of foam shaped to the corrugation that can be purchased cheaply so that there aren't gaps between the roofing and the frame. It's not even close to air-tight, but it will provide a decent amount of weather-proofing. I'm still anxiously waiting to see how warm it gets and stays in different conditions. On sunny days it warmed up to over 100 degrees. On cloudy days, however, it's only been about 10 degrees above the outside temperature. At night it's been roughly the ambient temperature. I really want to see what the lows get to when it's frosty outside in the depths of winter. This doesn't matter so much for the hardy greens and root vegetables I'll be growing in there this winter but it will factor into what plants can be overwintered in it. Right now we have peppers, but that's just to ripen the last of them. I've scattered seeds in my pepper pots so that when they're done I'll start getting a new crop--of napa cabbage and beets.

We're trying to figure out the best way of climate hacking the greenhouse with thermal sinks. We talked about putting the rain barrel inside the greenhouse but decided that we'd just end up with a flooded greenhouse all winter and rot the floor out. We have a couple of extra cement blocks in there right now, but it's unclear yet how much difference (if any) they'll make when it's cloudy and cold. We also have a bucket full of water and the watering can is kept full in there to absorb any heat from the day and release it at night. Thermal mass will help to even out the temperature all year, preventing it from overheating too much in summer, keeping it warm at night, and holding onto some heat in winter. (Hopefully.) In summer I can open any or all of the windows and prop the door open if it gets too hot. My father-in-law also wired it for electricity, which we can provide with an all-weather extension cord from the house, so if we want to run a small heater or fan in there we can. Electricity also means that I can use my grow lights out there when I start plants in the spring.

All up and running, new seeds
planted for winter.

It's still not quite finished. We need to figure out the best way to store tools, and get a basket for gardening gloves. The plants are on an industrial rack--the kind you see in commercial kitchens--by the front window, also acquired from Second Use. But we might want to put another workbench or stand in there as well. We found a slab of granite countertop behind our woodshed, which would both make a great top for a table and a heat sink. So maybe that's on the project list sometime? Last, the racks are open, so my pots--which don't have anything to catch water--can just leak onto the floor. I need to figure that out. I know there are rubbery plastic mats that can be acquired that fit on those racks because I saw some at Second Use (for a smaller rack). Maybe the answer is simpler, however, just getting water catchment for the bottom pots, the largest ones. When I started seeds the other day (napa cabbage, beets, spinach, lettuce, and a green called tatsoi) I positioned the smaller pots above the large ones, so that as the water leaked out it watered the plants/seeds below. It's not perfect, but at least in the short term it will do.

We still have a bit of other work to do, such as sinking some decorative pavers I got for free from my Buy Nothing group to make a more stable platform before stepping into the greenhouse. And we will definitely want to hook up the second rain barrel to the first, which is already filling up quickly with even the fairly light rain we've had. (And even with two, we'll be getting overflow all winter.) But it's up, and it's beautiful, and I'm so happy.

Fall 2020 Garden

I kept meaning to talk more about gardening this summer but, like most people, I was both overwhelmed and under-motivated. Concentration was shot, both by events from the world and by what was going on at home. It turns out that those of us who became parents in the Before time did not expect to have to be parents without playdates, without our extended support networks, without even playgrounds. 

 But enough about that. One of the few things that I prioritized this summer was our garden. I was far from alone, as it turns out, since many people began or expanded gardens this year. I'm actually pretty pleased by that, even though it meant some of the seeds I wanted were sold out. Even chickens were apparently sold out! Not that I was in the market for chickens...sadly. 

 As always, this year had major ups and downs. The summer started with a massive, massive overload of lettuce. Which was just fine, we gorged ourselves on salads for several weeks. Yum. So yum. It turns out that we don't get sick of Cobb salad, we just run out of ranch dressing. And then we move onto other salad varieties. I also started the summer being inundated with turnips. Last time I planted this variety it didn't germinate well, but it was tasty so I decided to plant more. Well, this time they all germinated. I ended up giving away 40 turnips to people in the community through my Buy Nothing Group and the food distribution for needy families. I like turnips, just not that much! Even after gifting so many, however, I still cooked with turnips a bit more than my family liked for a couple of weeks. And, of course, a few were total losses due to bugs in my organic garden. It happens. 

Overload 

 Hands down, my biggest win this year were my potatoes. I spend a whole $30 on seed potatoes, which when I purchased them I thought was pricey, possibly stupidly so. I spent about $70 on all of my other seeds combined this year (since I had several seeds left from last year that were still perfectly good) so to spend almost another 50% on potatoes alone made me take a deep breath and really consider if it would be wroth it. It was. I know it's generally accepted that growing your own potatoes is "not worthwhile" (I have several friends who will happily state that) but they're wrong. I planted three rows of potatoes, so I spent $10 per row. More than I spent on any other crop or single row. Most of my rows are more in the $5 range, assuming that I use all of every seed packet--which I don't.(Yes, I'm nerdy enough that I priced out my rows to see my cost/value.) However, what I got in return for each of those rows was incredible. I dug up the first row and just started laughing at myself, because I kept digging. And digging. And digging. I had an able and enthusiastic helper in my toddler, who kept announcing, "P'tayno! P'tayno!". That first row unearthed 90 lbs. of potatoes. I did the math for you, it was just over a penny per pound. I have never, and will never, be able to buy potatoes for that cheap, let alone organic Yukon Gold and German Butterball potatoes. According to this website, the most dirt cheap potatoes to be found are $.25/lb. They are not top shelf, organic potatoes either. And, even more damning, the post is from 2018, before the insane food inflation that happened this year alone.

Just a few potatoes

The second row was approximately the same weight, though the potatoes were smaller. (That row was almost entirely the German Butterball, which tend to be smaller.) The third row was the first I planted and the last to be dug up, in October. The plants were so developed that, even though I had hilled it pretty thoroughly (I thought) earlier in the summer there were potatoes completely sticking out of the ground. They turned green and can't be eaten. (Too much solanine.) The rest of the potatoes, though, were perfect. This row was almost entirely Yukon Gold and they were massive. This row came in at an impressive 100 lbs, which is less than I thought it would be but I'm not going to complain. Even factoring in some loss (due to rot and other issues) I'm still coming in far, far ahead by growing my own potatoes than I would be by buying the absolute cheapest potatoes from the store, which also wouldn't have the same quality. 

 Even after giving away 70 lbs. to family and friends, it's still a lot of potatoes. I will be giving some away through a community pantry, but I also wouldn't have planted potatoes if we didn't like to eat them. And we're doing a decent job of it. So far family favorites include potato leek soup (this one's vegan, though I tend to go ahead and use real butter), loaded baked potato soup, and oven baked fries, in addition to all of our usual potato filled recipes. I found bougie ketchup at Costco to go with the fries and life is absolutely delightful. 

Tomatoes and Squash 

 My second biggest win this year was with various squashes. Just as last year, I managed to grow a bunch of sugar pie pumpkins, and I got even more zucchinis than I did last year. Enough to share with some friends, and to put a bunch of shredded zucchini in the freezer. Unlike last year, I staked my zucchini's so that they would get more air flow and I was able to prune them easier. They still developed powdery mildew (is that even avoidable in this climate?) but it took a while and didn't seem to impact the productivity of my plants until the very end. From now on, I'm staking all of my zucchini plants for higher yields. It also saves room in the garden, so it's just a better way of growing all around.

Sugar pie honey bunch....

The pumpkins are waiting to be either frozen or canned, I haven't decided which. We're running out of room in the freezer but I'm out of canning jars! In the meantime, they're sitting outside waiting. After giving away two to my brother, we still have a dozen pie pumpkins, which will be made into waffles, baked oatmeal, pumpkin bars, and pumpkin logs. Despite the name, pie pumpkins aren't actually the best pumpkins for pie, nor is pumpkin actually what you get when you buy canned pumpkin. "Pumpkin" used to be a catch-all name for winter squash. The canned stuff is actually a type of butternut, which has a stronger flavor and makes a better pie. (They're also amazing keepers. I had one on my windowsill--not the recommended way to keep them--for 9 months before I finally cut it open and it was just perfect.) 

 I also got three large carving pumpkins, which the kids have been asking to carve since July. I've explained that if we carve them too soon they'll get moldy before Halloween but that explanation doesn't seem to stick when something so exciting is on the line. Since we only have two kids and really only need two pumpkins, the third was given to my cousin's family. 

 More even than the squash, though, I consider my tomatoes to be my second best crop. We tried a different method this year, growing them up strings to an A-frame that my spouse built for me. Despite the warnings of a friend I still didn't quite take into account how heavy the plants would be when they were covered with tomatoes and pretty much all of them fell. However, before then they had time to develop hundreds of tomatoes. We were eating fresh tomatoes like...well, like we really only do for a short time each year. HusbandX was cutting them up and salting them for snacks, then being yelled at by our toddler because "they're my pone-atoes!" One of my varieties was a small slicer called German Lunchbox that is, thankfully, very prolific. Every time I harvested I had to pay tithes to a tiny tomato thief, who will happily snack on raw tomatoes. We ate BLTs, snacked on tomatoes, and I discovered the best sandwich ever: homemade sourdough, cheddar, sliced tomatoes, fresh basil, grilled. That was pretty much all I ate for a few days, with a side of snacking tomato. To think, I used to dislike fresh tomatoes. Now I know it's just the bland store-bought tomatoes I dislike fresh.

 

Best sandwich ever.

In addition to all of the tomatoes we're still eating fresh, I canned a bunch. I found 24 oz. canning jars (they look like extended pint jars) and they are the perfect size for our diced tomatoes. I filled 19 of them. Then I took some of my paste tomatoes and cooked them down into a plain tomato sauce. I canned it in 4 oz. jars, plus 2 half pints. I'll use them for pizza, and that amount should make 14 pizzas. 

I actually have more tomatoes, the last of them, to deal with. A bunch are still green, so I'm looking for a green tomato salsa recipe from a family member. I'm also considering sticking some in a paper bag with a banana, which will give off ethylene gas and help them to ripen...theoretically. It could also just cause them to rot, but they'd do that out in the garden anyway so I don't lose anything by trying. 

A total garden fail 

 So no one gets the idea that my garden is always generous and hugely productive, I did have a major failure. My corn. The failure crop always changes, but I always have at least one. This year, it was my corn. We still have a bit of the Glass Gem corn I grew last year (which turns out to be gorgeous but made an indifferent popcorn, so I ground it up for meal and made fascinating looking cornbread), so I decided to grow a different variety. This time I decided to go for an actual cornmeal type of corn, and found another beautiful one. Montana Lavender Clay Corn sounded like fun, so that's what I grew. And I blew it. I'm not sure what I did wrong (maybe drought stress?) but I only got a few small ears with not much corn on them. ??? From what I can tell other people have excellent luck with this variety and love it, so I assume I did something wrong. Oh well, I can't excel at everything. And what corn I did get was totally worth it. I made cornbread that was a beautiful lavender pink color and it tasted just as lovely. I will definitely try growing this one again. In looking at it further, it seems that it also matures early, so places with long growing seasons might even be able to get two harvests of corn. It's not a particularly tall plant, either, so row cover fabric should be able to fit over it and extend the growing season. Might be worth a try?

The garden in mid-summer,
with the tomato A-frames
and seeds being started
on the patio.

Taking the garden to the next season 

 This year I actually got my act together to plant a dedicated fall garden. In the past I've carried hardy plants forward, but with only a few exceptions I've been really bad at starting plants in mid-summer for fall and winter. Well, this year I did it. I got broccoli and cabbage started at the end of July, as well as some onions, and managed to plant them out in August. Some of them were started under a row cover to protect them from insects and, as I discovered in the spring, that was 100% the way to go. The plants that were covered are universally larger and healthier than the ones I didn't put under cover. This includes a few I weren't certain would survive being transplanted, since they were nothing more than nubs of stalks after the insects ate all of their leaves. But I started them early enough that the plants are all growing well, even the non-covered ones, and I should get a fair amount of vegetables from our garden this winter. 

I planted some greens, and discovered that one good way to get pretty much a 100% germination rate is to leave my seed packets out in the rain. #Gardenerfail By the time I discovered them the seeds had not only germinated but were growing into the paper of the seed packet. So, I tore up the packets as best I could and planted the whole thing. If I get any lettuce, spinach, and bok choy this winter, this will be why. 

 For the first time ever, I ordered garlic, a variety called Music that's supposed to just generally be great in our climate. I'm excited to try something new, although I'm a bit worried it might take up space that I'll want in the spring. So we'll see how this goes. 

 My other autumn plants include carrots and chard. My gardening friends and I all agree that, when it comes to greens, you either grow too much or two little. I'm trying to err on the side of too much, so that I can take my excess to a community pantry that was set up in my neighborhood. If anyone else out there has too much of anything this winter, it might be worth looking into whether there's one in your neighborhood. Or start one yourself! If that's too much, check to see if your local food pantry will accept homegrown produce, or post it on a local giveaway board. There are so many ways to give excess food to your community. If it's an unusual thing, however, like kohlrabi, maybe add a couple of recipes to go with it so people know how to use it. :) 

Composting in place 

 To support the insane amount of food I'm getting from my garden, naturally I need to add things back in periodically. The sheet mulching I did when we built the garden will keep it fertile for a long time, but I'm still growing intensively enough that to keep up the productivity I should be adding things back whenever I can. So I did. In one of my winter rows I did trench composting. That is, I dug a shallow trench and put in our vegetable scraps and eggshells. I'm glad I didn't try to plant immediately, however, because I dug the trech too shallow and attracted some sort of animal pest. (In my yard, it was either a raccoon or a rat. I've seen both.) So now I know, and in future will dig a much deeper trench. But aside from that one hiccup (which didn't damage anything, nor did the pest actually take much, mostly just spreading it around) it seems to be working very well. I did it when the soil was still warm, so the scraps should break down quite quickly to immediately add nutrients into the soil. 

 That was only for one row, however. One of my tasks this autumn is to do some trench composting in at least most of my rows, to get them ready for spring. Especially in areas with heavy feeding plants like the corn, squashes, nightshades, and brassicas, adding amendments every year and moving them around the garden instead of planting them in the same place each spring/summer will help keep my garden healthy and productive. And, frankly, trench composting is the easiest way to do that. Seriously. Give it a try. 

Putting the rest to bed 

 On my list of chores this week is to pull out my row covers and get them up, keeping my plants a bit warmer and helping them to keep growing as far into the fall as I can. But for many plants, such as my tomatoes, the season is unequivocally over. The plants are dead or dying, they're no longer producing. Instead of pulling out my plants I cut them off at ground level, leaving the roots in place to rot. This helps keep at least some of the plant's nutrients in the soil, helps the microbial and fungal elements of the soil, and keeps the soil from getting too compacted over time. Especially in our heavy, wet winters here, soil compaction can be a major source of gardener despair. So I leave the roots and compost the rest of the plant to add back at a later date. Then I put the garden to bed. I'll rake the rows back to being somewhat tidy--a task I'll do again in spring, but is necessary in autumn so that the rows don't just ooze into each other and lose all definition. I'll put up row covers and, in one case, put down some black ground fabric to help retain heat. (It's an experiment I'll talk about later.) I'll do my trench composting and then, for the most part, the garden will just rest. Sleep well, garden. See you again in spring.

The long haul

A meme now going around online says, "The Tiger King era of quarantine seems like forever ago." I think that's something pretty much all of us can agree with. Some angrily (we shouldn't be in quarantine, or we should have done all the right things so we could be getting over this by now), some resignedly or sadly. For the families grieving lost loved ones, hoping and worrying over currently ill ones, for all the people yet to experience those, I will not even begin to describe their emotions. For us all, however, this year is going to be a turning point in our lives. What we thought would happen, what we hoped would happen, what we were working toward making happen...so much of it is gone. We're halfway through, but not even close to the finish line. And things are looking grim for next year, so there will be no "at least 2020 is over" relief.

I keep thinking back to the beginning of the pandemic. I had the luxury of trawling through the world news and saw this coming. There were a few Cassandras out there who proclaimed what was heading our way, the ways this would change our lives, our nation, but they were drowned out. "You're inciting panic." "We'll be fine." "You don't know what you're talking about." Even as the crisis loomed closer people blithely assumed that life would go on as it had, as they planned. I feel lucky in retrospect that I had watched the crisis getting ever closer, ever more real, rather than being t-boned by it seemingly out of nowhere.

If there's one moment I wish I could bottle for my daughters, to encapsulate how the year started, it would be the day the school closed. I wish I could, like something out of a fantasy novel, keep that memory so that they could experience it through my eyes. A rainy day, but pickup time was in a break between showers. Normally a large group of us would stay, let our kids burn off some school day pent-up energy on the playground while we chatted. On this day, however, there was barely a word between us, mostly just grim nods. No one stayed to play, and the sense of fear was palpable, oppressive. I've read that in books before but you never know what it means until you've experienced it, until you can taste the collective fear. Eyes don't properly meet, everyone uncertain and wondering what the future might hold. I hope my children never experience that firsthand, but I also want them to understand it in the way only someone who's experienced it can. It's a small moment, but we're all changed for experiencing it. The moment of collective acknowledgement that the future is not what we all planned, that no one knows what's ahead anymore. Not knowing if the next time we meet there might be absences.

We biked away and I wracked my brain trying to come up with truths to explain the situation that wouldn't terrify my older child unnecessarily. I suppose I needn't have worried, because she didn't get it. I explained again and again, and she still didn't quite understand. For weeks she talked about "when the virus is gone" and "when I go back to school soon". First I had to tell her that we didn't know how long things would take, then I had to tell her that things are going to be different for a while. But, like any normal 6-year-old, "a while" means a week, maybe two. I finally resorted to telling her, with tears in my eyes, that many people around the world were dying, so we need to stay home as long as it takes until people stop dying from this. She absorbed that, but it still didn't make it real. How could other people, people she didn't know, dying, prevent her from going to the school, the playground, the children's museum, to see friends, to see her grandmother...or even go to the store? Can we go to the store to get--? She kept talking about things we could do and one by one I had to dash those plans. It crushed my spirit, having to say no to absolutely everything. It's no wonder she's been low-key angry with me about nearly everything.

Have a picture of some flowers
to cheer you up.

Here we are. It's been almost six months of the pandemic (in the U.S.). People are weary. I haven't hugged any of my friends in nearly half a year, couldn't even do so as a friend was telling me that her dad had recently died, and I miss it desperately. I have a picture of the last time I saw my mom, back in March, because I wasn't certain if it would be the last time I'd ever get the chance to have a picture of the two of us together in a room. If it was the last time I'd get to see my mother, hug her, before she died. In some respects it was a luxury. How many people have died in complete isolation because of COVID, and how many family members were denied even that last hug?

And now, for so many reasons, we're in this for the long haul. Yes, there may be a vaccine soon. But vaccines take time for a reason. Even if it was declared safe tomorrow, there's still time until it can be rolled out worldwide. So, again, we're in this mess for a long time yet. If you're angry, that seems to be the most appropriate response to the situation we find ourselves collectively in. If you're missing human interaction, you're not alone.

So what do we do? How do we prepare for the long haul? Obviously I don't have all the answers. No one does. But there are some things that we can do to prepare ourselves, and to help out our friends and neighbors.

Plan that another lockdown could happen at any moment

Whatever you need--entertainment, food, homeschooling supplies--to keep yourself and your family safe and sane during another lockdown, think about it now and start procuring it. And if you're thinking, "Whatever, there's always Amazon," please remember that there are millions of small businesses that are going under right now. Please, please support them instead. Amazon will be fine. They don't need more of your dollars. Order books from independent booksellers so that they're still around. Order groceries from the corner deli and the neighborhood butcher shop and a CSA box (if you still can) from someone local if possible. Join a coop. I know that's not possible for everything for most of us (I shop at Costco too, ya know, and have ordered from Amazon a few times so far this year) but any little bit helps right now, and may keep your favorite local businesses around. Many of them have managed to switch their business model so that they will do curbside pickups or mail your goods to you.

I really mean it when I say to plan for the entertainment you'll need. It's midsummer now but with the summer solstice past I'm starting to get that antsy feeling that autumn is coming. The light is already changing, the days just getting a tiny bit shorter. I know that even with the monotony of the days it's going to fly by and suddenly autumn will be here. Which, for many of us, means chilly weather, rain, ice, snow. More time indoors. For everyone who escaped outdoors with the nice weather, that may be less possible soon. For those of us with kids, it's going to be crazy-making. Do what you need to do to get the family ready for walks or bike rides or cross-country skiing or whatever no matter the weather. Gather the LEGOs, paints, crayons, paper, video games, books, and other toys or tools you might need and then...wait. Hold onto them. Dole them out slowly, as needed, to keep morale up. In the dark moments they will be a lifeline. When you get 10 full minutes of your kids quietly playing you will be thanking your past self.

This trick works with adults too, and it doesn't necessarily involve pricey gadgets. We've been making treat foods (cookies, comfort food meals, ice cream) regularly but not constantly. Maybe once a week. (We had one week with overlapping treats and, honestly, it was too much.) It gives the whole family something small but important to look forward to.

Take care of both your physical and mental health

The key here is to treat yourself within reason. I know the "COVID 19" has been a joke for how much weight people have gained, but it doesn't have to be that way. I know several people who've lost weight in quarantine because they suddenly have the time to cook, to exercise, and they're not grabbing junk food at the store anymore. If you have an unhealthy relationship with food, or with alcohol, find other ways to treat yourself. (But please do still find a way to treat yourself occasionally.)

I started running again, which I tend to pick up in times of high stress, emotions, and anxiety. That runner's high is one hell of a drug. When I start to get anxious, when life feels out of control, there's nothing quite like tying up my laces and heading out all by myself for a chunk of time, to think my own thoughts and get everything organized. I'm noticing changes in my body, but more importantly I am so much calmer when I have my run and my time. I can take whatever the kids dish out better (and trust me, if my older one wasn't easy before all of this she's not any easier now that her world has been turned upside down), I can do all the chores and the things and be Super Mom. Or at least, that's how it feels.

Mind you, I'm a terrible runner. I'm slow. I ran just under 7km today (4.3-ish miles) and it was probably my longest run ever. I spend the first third of every run hating myself and hating each step. The middle third sort of grudgingly acknowledges that really it's not so bad, I'm in my groove. It's the final third of my run that makes it all worthwhile, when I finally start to feel grounded and good about myself.

When I'm really on my game, I can sometimes do yoga a few times a week because this is the year where my body keeps reminding me that I'm not as young as I once was. The yoga helps me feel refreshed, calmer, and more settled in a different way from the running, so I like to keep both. When I remember to stop doomsurfing long enough to take care of myself.

You don't have to run, obviously. But find your thing. My younger brother plays a video game that gets him moving quite a lot, and combined with (mostly) cutting out sodas and junk food he's lost over 25 lbs. It's easy for me to see what a mental boost it has given him in addition to the physical ones. He's healthier, and he feels good because of it. I was very legitimately worried that this time would have him spiraling down into a dark depression (again) so it's been incredible to see him blossom instead.

I'm not saying that you have to lose weight. I'm not trying to fat shame anyone. This isn't even really about weight, but about your well-being as a whole. Maybe you meditate instead, or pray. Maybe you do periods of fasting, or go vegan or Whole30. Maybe you stop smoking or drinking. Maybe you get an adult coloring book or take up knitting.

This year is taking a toll on all of us. I know I'm not the only one who feels as ancient as Methuselah after all the years I've lived in 2020. Mental and physical health are inextricably linked, and people of ill-health of either sort are more likely to have nasty complications or to die from COVID. If you could save a life, wouldn't you? Well, so maybe the life you save is your own. I just want you to treat yourself as valuable as you are to those who know and love you. Find the things that help you feel your best both mentally and physically. Then hang onto them, and keep doing them regularly. You're worth it.

Keep saving those pennies

So many people are out of work, possibly for a long time, and so many more people are uncertain of their work. The good news is that many people are paying down debt, particularly credit card debt, and people are saving. I wish it didn't take a crisis such as this to make that happen. I'm sure much of it is because people can't spend money on, among other things: haircuts, bars, restaurants, movies, vacations, manis/pedis, and fuel for their now nonexistent commute. So this good news is, in reality, a double-edged sword. All the people who relied on those industries are out of work, and will be as long as this crisis is ongoing, most likely far longer in many cases since so many businesses are failing.

Apricot jam I made from apricots I found seriously on sale.

But for those of us who can save, it's still crucial to do so. It's still valuable to do what we can to protect ourselves and our families. If your household loses employment, how many weeks or months before you become insolvent? How many months do you think this crisis will be ongoing, and how long do you think until the newly unemployed will be able to get work again? How secure do you feel in your job, your industry? What about your spouse or partner, if you have one? The truth is that we can't solve the unemployment crisis until we get control of the virus, so we all have to do our part even if we know our actions are going to have some negative consequences. It sucks. There are no good options right now. The only thing that we individuals can do is to try to ensure that we're not being sucked into that downward spiral of poverty.

If you have to triage your finances, prioritize shelter. You don't want to be homeless or couch surfing during a pandemic if you can help it. Being evicted or foreclosed on makes it harder to both buy a home and to rent. And if you really can't swing it, find a safe place to go before it gets to that point.

If any of my friends or family reading this needs any help, I'm here. No judgments, no criticisms. Just ask for help and I will do what I can. And then I will never mention it again, do my best to forget all about it, because no one wants that hanging over their head forever.

Wear your fucking mask

If you only have the paper ones, now is the time to get or make some quality cloth ones. Put a filter in them, if you can, even a coffee filter. Make sure it fits properly. And then fucking wear it. NO EXCUSES.

Yes, I even keep a bandana tied around my neck to quickly pull up on my runs and bike rides in case I need to be closer to someone than I'm comfortable with.

Put together a quarantine pod or bubble

Since we all need human interaction, and we can't keep ourselves solely to online meetings with loved ones for potentially years, put together a quarantine pod. Particularly for people who live alone and extroverts, this is crucial. Yes, there are ways to do this safely. First, make sure that you are compatible in what exposures you have (preferably none, but I know this isn't possible for most people) and what you're comfortable with. If one party goes into the store but the other will only do curbside pickup, is that a deal breaker? You'll also need to take into account things like the health of everyone in the household. If one household has someone with an autoimmune disorder and the other household has an essential worker, you might not be a good match.

Ideally, a pod is very small. It's also crucial to be completely honest with everyone what exposures you might have had. And if there are children in the group, how well are they going to follow the rules? Are they going back to school?

We've opened our household up ever so slightly to a few socially distant small events, purely outside and with as much distance maintained as possible. I see my younger brother about once or twice a week, for disc golf and to go see our mom, and we have one set of friends that we allow our kids to have playdates with out in one or the other's backyard (always, and unusually, under direct adult supervision to enforce mask wearing). They are crucial to our children's social and emotional development, especially for the long haul. If our kids can't be with a group of their peers in schools then being able to play and interact with a friend who is not also a sibling is necessary. So about once a week, perhaps a bit less, we'll go for a walk with them or play in the yard, or say hi from the street to the house. Always with masks on the parents, the older kids and (as often as we can get her to) my younger one. I hope that when they remember this time it will be with fond memories of friendships deepened, and not the deprivations of what they couldn't have.

If you can, keep your kids home from school

I know, online learning sucked so bad. SO BAD. In fact, ours was pretty good and it STILL sucked. So bad. Not for the schooling itself, but for everything around it. The fights, the time, the lack of outlets. I cried so much this spring. Maybe not daily, but.... So we initially filled out our district's survey saying that we would send her back to school two days a week. She's an extrovert, I reasoned. She needs her friends. And I, her introvert mother, could use a few minutes twice a week to get something done or even just have a cup of tea alone. In silence.

Then I thought about it more. I read what my teacher friends were saying, about how being at school was not going to be anything like it was before. There wouldn't be socializing the way we wanted, as our kid craves and needs. The chance of schools getting shut down again quickly (if they start in person at all at this point) are very high. There wouldn't be...anything, really. Just fear, with the specter of death looming in the hallways. How are kids supposed to learn in that environment?

Not only that, but the resources the school district would need to muster are staggering. Think of how many sterilizing wipes and bottles of soap and hand sanitizer. How many masks, how much PPE of various kinds. We don't fund schools enough in normal times, and these are not normal times. Cities and states are facing MASSIVE budget shortfalls due to lost tax revenue. Where are they going to get the money for all of this, to do things properly, if they can't even be bothered to fund the normal school supplies?

Here's a box cat picture
to cheer you up.

If all of that wasn't enough, then there are the risk. We were initially told that COVID doesn't hit kids hardly at all, and every parent around the world breathed a sigh of relief. But it's not true. First there was the mysterious MIS-C inflammatory syndrome that was striking kids who'd had COVID. Then they started actually testing kids and realized, oh hey. Kids DO get sick! And too many of them die. Florida alone has had at least 303 children hospitalized for COVID and its complications. No one wants to roll that die, to just cross our fingers and hope that our kid won't be one of the unlucky ones.

Do we want our teachers to die? Do we want to have yearbooks full of "in memoriam" pages dedicated to those teachers and students who "bravely" lost their lives due to COVID? Is that a legacy that we want for our kids?

I know some people will have no choice, though. Some of us are going to have to suck up our fear and send kids to school, because what other option is there? Essential workers just can't leave young children at home alone all day. Many people who work low wage "essential" jobs can't afford childcare as it is. What are they supposed to do? It is a nightmare situation.

So here's how the rest of us can help. We can be one less vector. Those of us who have the luxury of keeping our kids home indefinitely, we can do that. We can help the teachers and the school districts stretch their resources. We can help ensure that more kids aren't getting sick and needing care, because pediatric ICUs can get overwhelmed also. We can ensure that there's space in the classrooms for social distancing. In short, we can do our best to make sure the kids who need the system the most aren't suddenly left with nothing.

Just please don't ask me to unpack all of the inherent racism and classism in all of this. I know that the kids least likely to afford to stay home are also disproportionately children in minority groups and the economically disadvantaged. I know that there's a big chance this will further the educational divide between the haves and the have-nots. I hate it. But I don't think it's a problem that's going to be solved by individuals within the next month, during a pandemic. We need state and federal actions on this one. And clearly, this is one area we need to take a good, long look at when we have a bit more breathing room, to actually come up with solutions that will give all kids and families a rising tide. If you have solutions, I'm all ears.

Look Ahead

There have already been so many fun things we've missed--weddings that have been postponed, birthdays that have been celebrated online, graduations, births, sporting events, holidays. And there will be so many more. What is Halloween going to look like? Thanksgiving? Christmas? You'll want to start having those hard conversations with family now about whether or not you'll get together, under what circumstances, or how you're going to arrange things if you can't be together.

Once again, if you have kids then this is going to be so much harder. You're not only going to have to deal with your own emotions and dashed expectations but theirs as well. And no parent wants to feel like they've let their kid(s) down. So, how can we still make these events fun for them? How will we make them memorable in a way that's not because of what they missed out on, but for what they had instead? One of my kids has a November birthday, and this is very much on my mind. Her birthday and the surrounding time has traditionally been wet and cold. Not ideal for an outdoor birthday party, if we're even allowed to have them then. She's old enough to know if she doesn't get a party, and she will rightfully be pissed. off. So I'm planning now for how to still make it special.

So far we've baked cakes (small ones) for every family birthday (a different cake each time, of course) and my younger daughter has insisted we get out the party hats for some of the video calls, which is both festive and adorable. Looking ahead to Halloween, there might not be trick-or-treating in any meaningful capacity this year. But we can still carve pumpkins, make decorations and cookies, drink apple cider, and watch "scary" movies. None of those things require being around other people and they'll still be both fun and special.

I'm also trying to get organized enough to arrange a series of socially distant visits with people we haven't seen in a while. While the weather is nice enough to hang out outside, I want to get together with the people we haven't seen in some cases since last year, even though we all live in the same area. We miss them, and the window of when we can do these visits is going to close soon enough as it gets colder, wetter, and darker. For people in the Southern half of the country, this might be tipped on its head as your weather gets cooler and more favorable to hanging out outside, masked up, when summer is over.

Make a plan for multiple disasters

This really sounds like fear-mongering, but it is a reality that many people are going to be facing this year. Natural disasters don't stop in the midst of a pandemic. The Atlantic hurricane season is predicted to be far busier than normal, and at least one state is already dealing with historic wildfires.

If you don't already have a plan, now is the time to come up with one. What would you need to shelter in place if your power was out for an extended time? Many utilities are saying that power could be out for longer than usual due to the pandemic. What would you need to heat your house, get water, cook and eat, have light, entertain yourself, and to generally be self-sufficient for maybe weeks?

Alternatively, what would you need to flee your house and keep your family safe during a pandemic? If a wildfire is headed toward your home, do you have what you need to escape quickly and easily? Is it stocked with extras for a longer time frame, and pandemic supplies? Do you have a plan for where you would go, or what you would do if you no longer had a house to return to?

It's horrible, horrible, that we have to think this way. But it's reality. We ALL need to be thinking about worst case scenario planning. What do we do in an emergency if hospitals and social services are overrun? If my kid breaks her arm while hospitals are overrun, or the risk of going to them and bringing the illness home is a near certainty, what's the plan? No one wants to deal with this, or think about it, but having these things come up and no plan in place is infinitely worse.

If the general preparedness advice for your area gives you a certain time to be prepared for, like having 2-3 weeks of supplies on hand, expect to triple it right now. Seriously. Worst case scenario, you're more prepared for the next disaster. Best case scenario, you not only keep yourselves and your families safe but also maybe can help some neighbors out.

This is also something that should be done far in advance. If everyone starts stocking up for weeks of hurricanes all at once the stores will be overrun. It will be the great toilet paper shortage all over again, but for everything. Instead just grab an extra or two of something when you do go to the store. Maybe you get a few extra canned soups one week, some milk powder or shelf-stable milk replacement of your choice the next. A little bit at a time is just fine to build a slightly larger pantry and to collect any other items you need, such as batteries. This way you avoid the rush AND you allow the stores more time to stock up on things rather than a total boom and bust style of hurricane prep, where it's all or nothing in the week before a storm. For those of us who live where disasters can strike without notice (such as earthquakes) we won't even have the luxury of notice in which to prepare. What you've got on hand is what you'll have. Would it be enough?

Of course, anything you buy should be things you'll use or eat regularly anyway. Don't buy 80 cans of tuna if you hate tuna.

The goal here is not to be completely self-sufficient as an end unto itself. The goal is simply to not be a drain on an already stressed system. We want first responders to be taking care of people who could not help themselves, not those who simply did not. Our medical workers are already dealing with stress the likes of which most of us, thankfully, will never experience. We don't want to put more burden on them because of a lack of, say, an emergency kit that could have cleaned and bandaged a wound before infection set in.

And if that doesn't sway you, there are selfish reasons to be better prepared too. When our hospitals are already working at more than full capacity then the care you're going to get will be less than optimal no matter what. And, as we have seen, triage is not just for war time when there's a pandemic going on. If you're depending on emergency services in the midst of a pandemic, particularly in the states being hardest hit, then you're in for a rude awakening. There might not even be enough resources to get to you. No one wants that. None of us want MORE death right now. It's hard enough already.

Find ways to give back

I left this for last but it is the most important. I know we all feel helpless right now. We want to act, but the best action we can take is to really do nothing. To stay home and stay away from each other. To fight the ennui and sense of despair that is so easily overwhelming right now, instead find ways to give back. Even if it's "just" texting and calling your friends regularly to check up on them. That's meaningful, don't ever think it's not. Write letters to family and friends, send care packages. Go on local barter and gifting sites to see how many requests you can fill, or to share your bounty. (I gave away over 30 turnips through mine due to my accidental over-planting fiasco.) Grow a garden and share with those in need. (Some food banks will accept food from gardens as donations, check yours.) I have a friend who's donating her time driving food bank parcels to people who are at risk or don't have transportation. My brother is donating his time taking food to at-risk people so they don't have to go to the store. I'm growing the school garden, with the produce going to the school lunch distribution site. Share books via your Little Free Library, especially children's books. There are so very, very many ways that we can all give back to our communities and none of them is wrong. Even if it feels like a small gesture, it's not small to the person you've helped.

One of the school garden beds.

If all you have to give is money, here's a small list of places that I've found are doing the most good right now:

-Local food banks--demand is higher than it's ever been, and they're having trouble keeping up.
-Doctors Without Borders
-World Central Kitchen is helping to feed families around the country, putting empty restaurants and otherwise unemployed kitchen staff to work
-Unicef
 -Americares is donating PPE and training to healthcare workers
-FirstBook is trying to deliver books to kids most likely to fall behind due to school shutdowns
-Oxfam helps refugees and displaced people, who are especially at risk right now
-ACLU
-Black Lives Matter (or local chapters)
-Bail funds - Because incarcerated people are more at risk during this pandemic

Of course there are many, many more I'm sure. Feel free to comment with your favorite charity and what they do. And naturally now is not really the time to stop donating to other charities. If you have the spare funds, please keep donating. I know it's hard. But I also know that many people have managed to save money during this time, so please put some of it to good use and help out others who are less fortunate.