DAMNITALL, it’s been too long, but now the world is in a bit of a pinch. We need what were called “Victory Gardens,” in WWII — to self-sustain family and friends with food from your own yard. And to cheer up. To get out of the house. To create life. To heal your crazy brain. To do an end run on that damned depression you don’t even know is following you. Yeah, THAT on. We’re here to tell how. It’s been a long time, and some of us may have forgotten how deep and when the plant the peas — among other things.
So let’s get at it.
The peas go in now. I know, I know: the soil is ripe, the time is ripe, the peas are ready, but it’s damn raw out there and we’re not ready. Do it anyway; peas are a cold weather crop and you’ll be harvesting them in the June sun, and you’ll be happy.
Order a bunch; half pound or more. Make then English (or garden) peas, the ones you shuck They freeze well, which is what you want — along with another freezer maybe. Sugar snap peas don’t freeze worth a damn. As soon as your soil is ready to work (more in a minute on how to get it there) carve out a low channel maybe 6 inches wide and 2 inches deep with a rake or hoe, piling up the soil evenly on either side. That’s your seed bed. Peas love company, so broadcast them by hand such that they almost touch — or do touch. No rules here. Then cover the seed well from the dirt piles on either side. Peas try to sneak out of the planting bed at night, and you don’t want to go around burying them all over again when you’re trying to get ready for church.
Okay. so the peas are in. No sense labeling them; you’ll know they’re peas. Done and done.
Now, back to “getting there.”