The weekend didn't quite go as planned . . .

I injured my back Friday morning and spent the weekend laid up. Today (Monday) was the first day I was up and working for any length of time since Thursday evening. I hope I didn't overdo it today. I really needed to get some kitchen stuff done and needed to feel I was being effective. And it seems that my family needs me.

So for today, I cooked up 1 more carving pumpkin (3 down, 1 to go of those pumpkins), made a batch of hummus, boiled some eggs, started some sprouts, cleaned up my indoor garden area, and made dinner. When I said my family seems to need me, I think they largely missed my cooking. They could see and talk with me whenever they wanted while I was laid up, but I couldn't do much in the way of food prep for 3 days. Today's focus needed to be on food, in one way or another.

Last Thursday, I worked in my light garden area, harvesting more radish greens and cleaning out 1 flat of radish plants to start new radish seeds. My light garden is a set-up of 4 trays with pots under 4 sets of grow lights. As I've mentioned before, I use the bottom halves of gallon milk jugs for my grow containers. These are free and slightly squared, so less space is wasted in the tray.

Instead of complaining about my back and the subsequent catch-up work, I thought I'd share the growth cycle of a tray of radish plants.

I begin with containers filled with potting soil, poke holes in the 

surface and plant my seeds and push soil over to cover.

After about 5 days, the seedlings are up.

2 weeks later, the secondary leaves develop.

Weeks 3, 4 and 5 yield lots of leaves
to use in salads, soups, and stir-fries.

Although I grow radishes indoors for the leaves,
we also get some roots to use in salads.

By the end of week 5 or into week 6,
 the plants looks like they've seen better days.

At this point, I harvest all of the edible-looking leaves to use in meals.

I scoop out the remains of the plants and about the top 1-2 inches
 of soil from the containers and add to the compost pile.

I then add some fertilizer and top off the soil,
so I can begin a new batch of radish seeds.

Wintry Vegetable Harvesting

Transport your mind back to the late-19th century. It's autumn of 1872, and you've taken a homestead claim on the High Plains. Everything in the world that you own is in your small shanty. You have to provide for yourself and family with what you can hunt, grow and raise on this never-before-cultivated soil, plus the last of the provisions you brought west with you. There's no Amazon, GrubHub, DoorDash, or Walmart delivery. 

Snowfall came earlier than you expected, but late enough to harvest most of your crops and produce. There are no snowplows, no supermarkets, and no SUV to get you into town even if you had the means to buy your food. 

The snow is fresh and only 8 inches deep. You have a choice. You can sit by your fire and start in on the foods you've put up for winter. Or, you can go out into the snow and see if there's anything that can be picked to make into meals in the next handful of days, thus delaying the date when your set-aside, finite provisions will run out.

This is the spirit that motivated me to head out into our snowy winter landscape and see what I could pick to add to meals in the next few days. Our light dusting of snow turned to 8 inches the other night. I've harvested almost everything from the garden. But I want to get as much as possible out of it before the plants die.

Here's the Brussel sprout patch. Brussel sprout greens and kale are the greens most likely to survive snow and cold. The leaves are still edible. 

I clipped a bucket full this afternoon to bring inside. I'll be able to pick another bucketful tomorrow, too. I'll keep harvesting until there's nothing left to pick. And then, and only then, I'll begin on the veggies that we put away in the freezer for winter meals. 

Our plan has been to get as far into December as we can, harvesting what's available in the garden. Later this month, we'll switch to frozen and canned veggies.

Remembering those pioneers who trekked west, bringing with them not much more than grit and determination.