Today marks the average last frost for our little corner of Kentucky. Of course, averages are only stories the climate used to tell—so we keep one eye on the sky, one hand on the row cover, and stay ready to adapt. Still, things are waking up. The farm feels different this week, as if the ground itself has taken a deeper breath.
We had another cold spell earlier on, but everything tucked under cover came through just fine. Now the forecast—if such a thing can be trusted—calls for days in the 70s and 80s and nights in the mid‑50s. Warm enough to move, warm enough to risk a little. It’s time to transplant more into the garden, with covers close at hand in case spring decides to remind us who’s in charge.
This week we’re settling tomatoes, eggplant, watermelon, potatoes, and a handful of other odds and ends into their beds. Over in Sirius—our herb constellation plot—we’re planting fennel, yarrow, sage, thyme, rosemary, and lavender. The nasturtiums and skullcap are stretching into bigger pots, and we hope to have a few of them ready for sale at our next opening on April 24 here at the farm, and April 25 at the Nicholasville Farmers Market.
We also started another round of cabbage and broccoli, along with a few cantaloupe‑type melons (honeydew included) that we hope to offer as well. Spring is a season of second chances and extra trays.
Yesterday we made a mid‑spring pilgrimage to our favorite garden supply center—about an hour away, which is why this week’s Notes are arriving a day later than usual. We picked up more potting soil and a one‑ton tote of compost. It was a bright, easy day, the kind where the drive itself feels like part of the work. Mid‑week meant fewer crowds, more space for farm chatter. Folks are worried about another hot, dry summer, but because spring has already been hot and dry, there’s a quiet hope we won’t repeat last year. Farmers are nothing if not adaptable.
The first strawflower has started to bloom. Their color is always a small miracle—vivid now, and still vivid months from now when dried. The last of the flats are nearly ready for their final home in the beds, where they’ll grow into the bright, papery constellations we’ll harvest for crafts and displays.
We hope you’ll come by and see us during our next opening, April 24 through May 10, 1PM–5PM, with a special mid‑spring gathering on May 2, 9AM–6PM. We’ll keep you posted on what will be available as the season unfolds.
In the meantime, slow down a little. Notice what’s stirring. This is the season of emergence—quiet, steady, full of promise.