Farmers are the most impatient, patient people I know

​Spring seems to have come early to the western half of North Dakota. Warm weather and sunshiny days push farmers and gardeners to the brink in anticipation of planting season.

With this weirdly warm weather, the race is on a wee bit earlier than usual. You know that gardeners, in particular, are competitive by nature vying for the first person on Facebook to eat radishes.  

Farmers, gardeners, and general soil enthusiasts begin the season by looking at seed catalogs early in December. Like the old Sears and Roebuck catalog of yesterday, we drool over new vegetable varieties, seek out our old reliable cultivars, and calculate just how much soil we have to contain our ever-growing list of seeds and seedlings. There is never enough space for everything, ever.

“I will not quit planting until every corner of my two acres has food and flowers growing on it,” she said to no one. Gardening is a single soul-satisfying occupation for some of us.

Then we ordered from not one company, but several. Old standby varieties first, and then the newest and most recently offered heirlooms. Sometimes we select types just out of curiosity. When those seeds arrive, we arrange and plot and plan future homes for those seeds, whether in the house or outdoors.

In our minds, we begin a competition to see who can get their garden planted first; or bragging rights, “My plants are bigger than your plants,” or better yet, who can harvest radishes, rhubarb, or lettuce first.

We observe the weather. When nighttime temps dip below freezing, it seems senseless to plant warm-weather crops. They require so much coddling and resist growing anyway until everything warms up to 50 degrees or more. Once the snow is gone, the impatience to grow consumes us day and night. If we can work the soil, we bury peas, radishes, lettuces, and spinach in the earth; all the while caring for our tomato, cabbage, pepper, and herb starts in our greenhouses and on sunny windowsills.

Then, it’s finally playoff time for the impatient farmer.

Once those frost dangers disappear, it’s off to the races, and planting begins fast and furious. Everything we can put in the ground, whether seeds or three-foot-tall tomatoes we started too soon in February.  

Planting a vegetable garden as large as the four plots we are fortunate enough to have on our property takes two weeks or longer, depending on which relatives are available to help. Fully expecting, of course, in return for labor, their fair share of veggies at harvest time.

So, the rush is over by the beginning of June, and then what? We exercise patience. Gardeners walk about their gardens in the early morning dew, looking for signs of life. At night, they watch the weather, walk around their gardens, and do what they have to protect their investments.

We water and weed because those weeds always take advantage of the watering by attempting to outdo the vegetables and flowers we plant. We get down on our knees sometimes and inspect the tiny cracks in the soil's surface. Is something coming up yet? 

With the proper weather conditions, soon the first radishes and peas sprout. The lettuce usually wins the race to maturity at our house. It’s a beautiful thing — a reward for the farmers' patience.