We’re at a standstill. The grow light in the basement has blown. Keith ordered another and the company promised to ship in 48 hours. We checked a week later – still in the warehouse.  So, he ordered a back-up.  That hasn’t arrived yet either. The seedlings are starting to pop under a fluorescent light which isn’t ideal, some of the hot peppers have already died.

So, we decided to bundle up and get working on the greenhouse. It was 23 degrees on Sunday and we only had the side boards to level and bolt on before putting on the plastic.

Bundle up!

We got out there and discovered the bolts weren’t the right length. Off to Home Depot which, thankfully, is only about 1.5 miles away. We got about 6 bolts on and the bit in Keith’s cordless drill broke. Frustrating (but not too upsetting, I was cold!) So, we went to the bar for some wings and beer. We could have gone to get another bit, sure, but why fight it. It just wasn’t meant to be this weekend.

Meanwhile, we’ve been talking to some of our friends about our project and are getting lots of encouragement. We’re asking local chefs what greens would they want to use, but can’t find locally. I’m all about Mache.  I haven’t ever even tried it, but read about it in The French Laundry Cookbook.

The French Laundry Cookbook

Apparently, Mache is a “microgreen” and is a little delicacy. It also goes by the names, “Lamb’s Lettuce” and “Rapunzel.” I want it just  because of that. “Rapunzel.”  Apparently it grows well in the cold. That’ll work! 

Keith and I went out for sushi the other night and there were some sprouts on top of the chef’s special salad. We think they were radish sprouts – VERY peppery and yummy.

Green Radish Sprouts Photo courtesy https://www.msu.edu

So I’m thinking, can we supply our neighborhood chefs? Lofty goal, I know, but every time I get into something, I always start thinking about how to make it into a business. Mache, sprouts, hot  peppers, lettuce mixes, husk cherries, tomatoes..I can just picture me in an old red Chevy truck, Daisy hanging out one window, pulling up to a local restaurant. In my overalls and checkered shirt, I get out of the truck and pull a basket overflowing with veggies out of the back. I hand it to the chef who has white flour on his nose and greet him by first name. We chat a bit about the weather until Daisy barks, reminding me we have a business to run. I wave to my buddy, the chef, smile as the Chevy door creaks when I open it, and take off to deliver the rest of our garden bounty to our friendly neighborhood restaurants, all of which have “Using Vegetables from The DaisyPatch in North Hampton, NH” on the menu.

Maybe…someday, if the damned lights would show up.

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