[Garden] What Next?

[thefourthvine]

The status of the garden in three conversations:

1.

Me: Hi, guys.
Tomatoes: HI!
Me: Look, um. It's, you know, the middle of September.
Tomatoes: Fascinating!
Me: So. Well. What that means is, fall is coming.
Tomatoes: Yay!
Me: Yay?
Tomatoes: Spring was great. Summer was EVEN BETTER. Obviously, fall will be the best yet.
Me: Um. Gosh, this is awkward. See - you're supposed to die in the fall.
Tomatoes: No way! Get out!
Me: Yeah. I'm sorry, but it's true. So, I was thinking - maybe you should dedicate a little more energy to finishing off the tomatoes you've already got going, and maybe a little less energy to making new branches and flowers?
Tomatoes: No.
Me: No?
Tomatoes: No. Good chat, though.

2.

Me: It's the middle of October now.
Tomatoes: Isn't it wonderful?
Me: I notice you're still doing the branch and flower thing.
Tomatoes: We're not just making tomatoes, we're making tomato infrastructure! We're planning for the long haul! We're going to synergistically leverage our incentives as soon as we figure out how!
Me: You know, I was going to plant a winter salad garden where you are. But I can't, because you won't stop growing. Even though you're clearly supposed to.
Tomatoes: According to who?
Me: A lot of books. I'd be willing to read the relevant bits out loud.
Tomatoes: Hah. Books.
Me: Tomato plants cannot live forever.
Tomatoes: We plan to try.
Me: So that's a no on the graceful decline thing?
Tomatoes: Sure is!

3.

Me: GUYS. IT'S NOVEMBER.
Tomatoes: I believe I can fly! I believe I can touch the sky!


So, yes. It's November, and my tomato plants are, in total defiance of everything my gardening books say, producing not only tomatoes but also flowers and new shoots and everything. Still, I'm prepared to call this the end of the season, and trust that sooner or later the tomatoes will also figure that out.

The question becomes: what next? I actually started gardening because of an urban homesteading book I read. I figured that if I can do it, we don't need to worry about the end of oil or the zombie attacks or the apocalypse or whatever, because anyone can do it. I'm the Most Hapless Homesteader. But obviously my homesteading journey has only just begun.

So I made a list of potential homesteading tasks I could learn to do next (or relearn to do, in the case of the one I've already done), and I'm going to ask you guys to vote on them. You should get some say, since I will almost certainly post about the inevitable disaster here. (Also, if it goes anything like gardening, the results could actually trigger the apocalypse, and in that case, I would like some company in the blame department.)

Poll #5001 Homesteading

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 415

View Respondents

Which scary homesteading task should I probably fail to learn next?

View Answers

Baking bread
292 (70.4%)

Composting
167 (40.2%)

Keeping livestock
33 (8.0%)

Making cheese
85 (20.5%)

Making preserves/preserving food
169 (40.7%)

Making soap or detergent or whatever
37 (8.9%)

Making wine or beer
62 (14.9%)

Making yogurt, sour cream, or butter
96 (23.1%)

Sewing, patching, darning
117 (28.2%)

Woodworking
38 (9.2%)

Please stop now, while you still have your limbs and we still have a planet
38 (9.2%)

Comments

[yasaman]

Baking bread is so intensely satisfying. It doesn't even have to be that hard, especially if you use something like that no-knead bread recipe. It seems like actual magic when you get water, yeast, salt, and flour to turn into something you usually buy from the store.

[jumpuphigh]

I make all of my own bread these days and since finding the no-knead recipe, I rarely make anything else. Yum!