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Monday, November 4, 2024

In the Garden with Praneet Menon #InTheGarden




Grow Your Own Vegetables with Praneet Menon
A Journey Toward Food Self-Sufficiency

My family and I moved to Vermont for many reasons. The peace and quiet, the scenic beauty, and the amazing people are among the low-hanging fruits. A more intentional reason was our desire to grow our own food. We want to be mindful of the hard work it takes to feed and sustain oneself, let alone a family or a community.

Vermont’s short growing season demands careful timing to ensure a bountiful harvest. Land preparation begins in the fall of the previous year when we spread natural fertilizer sourced from our very own laying hens (their eggs are marvelous). With the winter snow and spring melt, the fertilizer works itself into the soil, enriching it with nutrients.

Depending on the warmth, the seeding/planting begins in late May or early June. The vegetables we grow include peas, carrots, bush beans, onions, potatoes, and tomatoes. I direct-sow everything but the tomatoes, which I’ve found to be quite temperamental when starting from seeds. 

To direct sow, I usually dig a narrow trench at the recommended seed depth, add some supplemental fertilizer, and cover it up with the soil. I do not till my land, as I find that it kicks up a lot of weed seeds from below, and the rest of the season gets very unmanageable very quickly. The tomatoes are first hardened for a couple of weeks before planting so as not to shock them with an environment quite a bit harsher than the nursery. This is accomplished by slowly increasing the time the plants spend outside till they can handle the colder nights.
If the rains don’t wash the seeds out, we start to see the sprout in a few weeks. During this time, and for the rest of the growing season, the area is watered (depending on rain) and cleared of weeds almost daily. The plants also need to be defended against Japanese beetles and deer. A 6-ft tall temporary fence usually does the trick with the deer, but the Japanese beetles are another matter. We place several beetle traps downwind of our garden, and this usually pulls most of them away. Some insect netting and hand-picking take care of the ones that make it to the plants.

Harvest season starts around mid-to-late July, depending on the maturation of the vegetables. Potatoes are usually the last to be harvested. The peas, carrots, and beans are blanched and frozen, while the tomatoes are “canned” in mason jars. The onions and potatoes are cured for a few weeks before storing them in a cool, dark place (our root cellar).

My current setup isn’t as large as it needs to be to feed my family only with the food we grow, as I’ve been slowly learning how nature works here. Lessons learned this season can only be applied several months later, assuming conditions remain the same. For now, an annual harvest can last us anywhere between 6-8 months. What’s encouraging is that our yield has increased year-over-year.

While there is still much to learn, each season is a new chapter, with every harvest adding to our understanding of the land and the gifts it provides.
 

The Staff of Beckoning
A Symphony of Spheres 
Book One 
Praneet Menon

Genre: Epic Fantasy
Publisher: Kaaran Publishing
Date of Publication: September 18, 2024
ASIN: B0DDVVN76P
Number of pages: 437
Word Count: 115,000

Tagline: Adir Nathar’s search for safety ignites a battle against ancient forces, where survival means confronting the shadows of fate—and his own destiny.

Book Description: 

In the meticulously-crafted world of Leakarha, where epic fantasy, mythos, and ancient prophecies intertwine, the existence of its inhabitants is shaped by forces beyond their control. 

Adir Nathar's tough childhood and prescriptive, quiet life in the village of Marafel made him yearn for more. He got what he wished for, but not in the way he expected. His proximity to an inexplicable death made him the target of revenge, forcing him to flee from his family and home, seeking only safety and a fresh start. But existence had other plans. The Khasmia Shadow, a secret society with a divine purpose, is hunting Adir, unbeknownst to him. Their purpose: rid the world of a destructive creature called a venna, using the sacred Staff of Beckoning. Leakarha itself is undergoing a seismic shift. Rakhor, terrible demonspawn, are being seen in increasing numbers! 

As the Khasmia Shadow closes in on him, Adir is thrust into an existence-altering journey across Leakarha with companions new and old. As he is pushed deeper into his own shadows, Adir realizes that he may not merely be a piece to be moved but rather the key to the game itself.


Excerpt:

“Where are you going?” Tia’s eyes were wide with anxiety.

“Out.”

“But I don’t know this town at all.”

“Don’t leave the inn then!”

As soon as he stepped out into the night, all of his warmth left him. However, the wheat ales—much stronger than he was used to—had begun to take effect. That, combined with the fact that his last meal had been hours before, made the cold a distant sensation. Strapping his staff to his back, he picked a direction and wandered off—his mind getting mushier and more vulnerable to his increasingly foul mood.

Tia had always been a very supportive girl. What had changed? Or had she always been like this and her support was just an act? Did she really think that he would abandon her? I would never do such a thing, he thought indignantly. He wasn’t his father. Sure, yea, he could be a little flirtatious, he admitted. But that was harmless. Why couldn’t Tia see that? After all, he’d asked her to run away with him. Didn’t that imply he wanted to start a life with her? Didn’t that mean anything to her? His mind was plagued with too many questions and not enough answers.

Abruptly, he found himself in a dark, dimly lit alley, with buildings rising up around him.

Everything seemed ... slightly off. Hesitantly, he walked down the alley and made a few turns. A few moments of wandering later, he admitted that he was lost and decided to retrace his steps, but it all looked unfamiliar. With no other option he kept walking, hoping to find his way back, when he came upon three men in a dark corner.

“Give it up, you unworthy bastard!” said one of the men, who had a lilting accent. He was clutching another man’s collar in one hand while wielding a knife in the other. A third man stood and watched.

“I did not steal it! He gave it to me!” cried the captive man.

“Do not lie, you swinespawn!”

“I swear by the names of the Miakos. He gave it to me!”

The third man still just stood and watched.

Adir wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was his anger and he just needed to let it out. Or maybe he understood how the captive man felt; after all, he had been ambushed a couple of times himself. Whatever the reasoning of his drink-addled mind, he unstrapped his staff and charged.

The man who’d been watching noticed Adir and whirled around, pulling out a knife of his own. However, knives were a poor defense against the long reach of a staff. Adir whipped his staff sideways, cracking the man in the skull, who dropped to the ground, motionless.

The man who held the captive by his collar was startled by the sudden attack and shoved his captive to the ground. The captive lay on his stomach, face cupped in his hands as if trying to shut out his current plight.

Adir felt a surge of energy course through him as he pulled his staff back, preparing for a thrust.

He lunged, briefly catching a look of horror on the man’s face, and thrust his staff square into the man’s chest. The impact sent the man flying a few paces before he slammed into a wall and slumped to the ground.

For a moment that lasted one flap of a bee’s wing, Adir saw a rain- bow-colored haze on his hand, creeping up his arm. Fearfully, he jerked his hand to his face for a closer examination, but the haze was no longer there.

The once-captive, now-free man looked up from his prone position and surveyed the scene, then stood. “Thank you, master,” he said, bowing and scraping. “I am forever in your debt.”

The man’s words seemed to tumble out of his mouth in a clatter, or maybe Adir couldn’t understand him on account of being severely drunk. “What did you steal from them?” Adir asked, eyeing the man suspiciously, his inebriation fueling his paranoia. Sure, he’d saved the bearded man, but that didn’t mean the man was harmless.

“I did not steal anything, master,” the man said, still pronouncing every word oddly.

Adir looked at him, trying to force his eyes to focus. “All right,” he said, realizing that he’d do nothing even if the man admitted to stealing something. All he really wanted to do was get back to the inn and sleep. “Do you know the way to The Soft Pillow?” he asked, trying and failing miserably to strap his staff onto his back.

“Ya, master,” the man replied with enthusiasm. “I will take you there.”



About the Author: 

Born and raised in India, Praneet’s life began immersed in a medley of cultural, linguistic, and spiritual traditions that sparked his passion for storytelling. Then, he moved to the United States and has now spent more than half his life there. The two cultural backgrounds have led him to embrace a fusion of Eastern and Western philosophies that deeply influence his writing. 

Praneet also spent the better part of two decades working as an engineer and flight instructor, which instilled in him a precision that he brings to his existence-building, pursuing that perfect blend of reality and fantasy. His exploration of philosophy and psychology at an early age allows him to imbue his stories with age-old themes of identity, purpose, and destiny. These themes play a central role in his debut novel, The Staff of Beckoning, Book 1 of the series A Symphony of Spheres. 

Praneet lives in Vermont, embracing a homesteading lifestyle, community involvement, and writing while pursuing a master’s in counseling.











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