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Hi Everyone,
Little by little, inch by inch, here a little, there a little, everywhere a little, little. Yes, this is how we farm. We laugh when people ask if we ever get everything done that needs to be done where we can sit down and just relax—because there is nothing to do. Then on the other hand, some might wonder how we do it all—and truth be told, we don’t. We dream BIG, and accomplish a lot, but there are always things that get left undone. So when someone comes into our life that enjoys doing what we do and desires to come along side us and help us out—we are blessed beyond measure.
Many Hands Make Light Work
Monday morning found Leo and Sue back at the farm helping us prepare the garden for the fall planting. Hopefully nut grass will not detour them from coming to help, but it does seem to be the prevailing weed that we pull up over and over and over again. We get a bed looking weed free, and by the next day more nut grass has popped up—from who knows where. Leo was able to make two more 30” wide beds that are about 24 feet long. Then he also made me a 30” wide row that is about 17 feet long so that I could plant the carrots. I am terrible about growing carrots. I know that if you plant sparingly you shall also reap sparingly—but I always fail to go back and thin out the carrots. Some carrots survive crowding, but other carrots do not. Perfectly spaced carrots are 2 ½” apart. The Marketing Garden measurements for carrots are 12 rows 2 ½” apart in a 30” wide bed. Then every 2 ½” down the row, you plant another seed. While most vegetables are started in seed trays, carrots are direct seeded. Now the big gardeners have a fancy seed planting machine that does it for them—I think that it is ridiculous to spend that much money to plant one type of vegetable. I was determined to plant them right though, and so I marked my 12 rows—although I could only manage to get 11 rows on the east side of my 30” wide bed, and 10 rows on the west side of the bed—I guess my rows are not perfect. Then I dumped about a teaspoon of little bitty carrot seeds in the palm of my hand and stood there staring at my hand. How in the world was I supposed to put one seed every 2 ½” for 11 rows that are about 17 feet long? That is like 82 carrot seeds per row and about 900 carrots in the whole bed. I much preferred over seeding, but as I said, I am horrible about thinning. So while I stood there staring, Sue came to the rescue and gave me the much needed encouragement that I needed—she held out her hand and said, “Give me some too.” That was all I needed, and we planted the first kind of carrot—Kyoto, a red carrot. Then we planted an Amarillo carrot, which is yellow. The third section was the largest, and I had the most seeds for them. I had bought some Imperator carrots from the local feed store. I will give you a hint—it is so much cheaper to buy seeds in bulk at your local feed and seed store, than it is to buy them in little packets from Specialty Seed Stores. For no more than $2 I can have ¼ cup of seeds, but when you buy a packet you get a ¼ teaspoon for about $4. The Imperator carrots are orange, and grow very long. Once the carrots were planted it was time for lunch and time for Leo and Sue to head home—although Sue was wishing that they had come in two vehicles because when she found out that we would be transplanting the Swiss chard after lunch, she didn’t want to go home. After lunch we finished making another bed so that we could plant beets. Then we used our new gridders and rolled them down the fresh and fluffy dirt so that we could stamp a grid pattern in the dirt so that we knew where to plant the plants and the seeds. Planting beets was a lot easier that carrots, but it just didn’t seem like we planted enough of them—too many carrots and not enough beets. If the carrots grow well, I guess you might find them listed on our Larder List of things from the garden that we have for sale.
IMPOSSIBLE
Tuesday’s always seem to be chalked full, but last Tuesday was extra full. When I made the “To Do List” for the day, I didn’t think that there would be any way possible to get it all done—and if we did get it all done, I didn’t expect to have any time to work in the garden which is where my heart desired to be. First off—we milked the cows and did all the field chores. Then while Steve and I bottled the milk and kefir, Mom weeded in the garden (I was a little jealous). Next came transferring all the frozen chickens from the chest freezers in the Poultry kitchen to the walk in freezer in the milk house. After that we called Mom in and we all tackled the eggs—well, maybe we didn’t tackle them, we handled them gently as we transferred them from the bucket to the egg cartons. Then I made the yogurt, and we ate lunch. To everyone’s delight is was 2:00 when lunch was over and we had everything done and we could go to the garden. October is the month where you plant your wild flower seeds, spread out the mullein and plantain seeds and all the rest of your early spring flowers. Those beds needed to be cleared out so that the seeds could come in contact with bare soil—plus we have a farm tour in less than a month and a semi-well-manicured garden is much prettier to look at than a garden that is totally over grown with summer weeds. Steve heaved out the large weeds, and Mom and I tackled the smaller weeds. I got to work until about 3:30 when it was then time to change my “gardener hat” for my “piano teacher hat”. After lessons I worked on answering emails and putting together the orders for our Jacksonville delivery. Then it was time for dinner, and to our delight the list was accomplished greatly—well that is everything but pouring up the kombucha, and I got that done on Wednesday.
Redeeming the Time
Wednesday we had to milk the cows and then pack the order for the Jacksonville delivery. Once Papa was on his way, then I once again donned my Piano teacher hat. It is always a blessing to hear your student say, “I think that I shall pass all my pieces this week,” and then they really do. Practice truly does make perfect—if they are practicing the song with the correct counting and the correct notes. Later that day Mom and I had some down time. In our down time we love to watch garden videos—to be inspired by others that do such a wonderful job. One of our favorites lately is called Gardener’s World—a show done in England with Monty Don—who has traveled the world to learn gardening from the best. Now I do not know what you do when you finally get the chance to sit down and relax, but I have found these times to help me catch up on some much neglected work. When it is time to watch something, I scan the house for any laundry that needs to be folded, and I set up the ironing board and grab my pile of ironing and get my work done while having some fun. I do love to iron—I probably inherited it from my Grandma who would iron for people and charge a quarter a basket. When she would come and visit, she always helped us girls catch up on our ironing—we had to iron our own blouses though, for she didn’t like to iron them. Grandma is gone now, so I must keep up with my ironing. I do love it, but I have the hardest time staying in one place for too long, so unless I am talking with someone, singing loudly, or listening to something, I find myself drifting away too often. The gardening videos allow me to learn and get my ironing done all at the same time.
Grease Monkey
I will tell you a secret—shh! Don’t tell anyone, but my Papa does not like to get his hands dirty—never has. In the last year though he has had to learn a few new skills and they require getting dirty. Not just any kind of dirty either—but grease dirty. It seems like one piece of equipment after another keeps breaking, and everyone knows that it is cheaper to fix it yourself, than to pay someone to fix it. The other problem though was that Papa is not mechanically minded—but thanks to some friends who are, and to Google, Papa has been able to fix some of our broken equipment. Last winter the tractor bucket broke—thankfully at the end of hay season. The last few bails he had to roll into the back end of the Gravely and then dump into the hay racks. In order to keep the bucket from dumping all the items onto the ground, Papa had to chain the bucket up so that it couldn’t fall down. He might not be mechanically minded, but he is very good at rigging things up. Steve calls him a MacGyver. The other problem with things breaking is that they cost money to fix. The hay man has wanted to deliver hay for over a month, but with our tractor bucket being broken, we had no way to unload it from his semi-truck and stack it in the barn. Everyone wanted to help Papa fix the tractor bucket, gave him lots of advice on how to do it, helped him figure out what was wrong with it—but in the long run, we didn’t have the funds to fix it. Two weeks ago those funds finally appeared and Papa was able to order the parts. At first they sent the wrong bolts, but he didn’t know that until he was already greasy trying to get the old bolts off. Papa called the company and they sent the right kind of bolts. Then after some YouTube videos on how to change the broken parts, Papa spent Friday afternoon fixing his tractor. We were so happy for him—he did it, and the tractor works perfectly again. Next on the list just might be the engine of our lawn mower. A man at church, who is a mechanic by trade, was giving Papa some advice today—and I saw Papa checking into it later. We shall see how this goes, I have faith that he can figure it out.
A Roach
Okay, I’ll admit, they are not the best of topics, and when I see one you shall probably know about it even if you are in another room, or another building—I just cannot hold that scream in. Roaches are not my cup of tea, but I am determined that where I live—they shall not! I am not the only one though who screams when a roach gets too close for comfort. Years ago I was milking our Jersey cow, Penelope, when all of a sudden she let out a loud bellow, tried to exit her milking stall—but she was tied in, so she ended up sitting on the rope. We didn’t know what had happened to her until I got up and looked and saw a big roach crawl out of her feed trough. We had a good laugh. Just the other day, Mom was milking Penny—Penelope’s daughter, and she let out a loud bellow and sat down on the rope in her hurry to get out of the stall. Mom looked and sure enough a roach was crawling out of her feed trough. So I guess even cows scream when they see a roach, so it must be okay.
The Pardoned Chicken—at least for now!
Thursday we processed another batch of chickens. While we were processing chickens, a shipment of feed was delivered. It was bright and sunny, and no chance of rain—of which we haven’t had but half an inch all month (which was all that we got from Hurricane Dorian). We finished the chickens and packaged all the parts. Papa said that there were 43 of them, but when we were packaging the gizzards we didn’t have 43. We thought that Papa had miscounted—which is very easy to do when you are catching chickens all by yourself. After Papa cleaned up he took off with the trailer that the chickens are stored in while they wait their turn, and when he pulled away, there was chicken #43. Mom and I saw it just as clouds blew in and the heavens let lose. We took off to help Papa get the chicken feed covered so that it didn’t get wet and mold. It poured down rain for about twenty minutes, and to our great delight we got over a half an inch of rain. Once the rain stopped we headed back to the Poultry kitchen to finish cleaning up—but the chicken was nowhere to be found. The next day we looked all over for it, but never could find it. Then around 7:30 that night as I was letting Yasha run off some of her energy, she unearthed the chicken that had made his way to the milking parlor. Papa gathered him up and took him out to one of hoop houses that have chickens in them that will be processed in two weeks. I guess we might have a 10 pound chicken by then.
Friday we packaged the chickens and cut up half of them. To our delight our new friend Sue came over to help and it is amazing how fast three people can cut up, package and label twenty chickens.
Hidden Gifts
Everyone knows that behind every cloud the sun is shining. Sometimes though, it is easier to see the gloomy side of life. The other day as we were watching Gardener’s World, they visited a lady who had bought a piece of property that really had no beauty to behold to the natural eye. Through much hard work, and lots of planning she turned her yard, barns and house into a beautiful piece of art—living art that is. Her gardens were just beautiful. She had always dreamed of having a wisteria plant and with her new property she knew just where to plant it—that is until she started to dig the hole for it, and it began to fill up with water. She had uncovered a natural water source. She had a very encouraging saying though—“Every problem comes with a gift in its hand, and it is my responsibility to find it.” Instead of a wisteria plant, she ended up creating a paradise for plants that survive in boggy conditions. She also saw failures as good things—for you can learn so much from them. These truths couldn’t be timelier for me as I try out a new gardening method. Yes, there is always the easy way to do things, but it does not mean that the easiest is the best or the healthiest. Wanting to conquer weeds, make weeding easier, and swapping thinning plants for growing transplants—I have tried many new methods, and am experiencing many failures and problems. We put chickens in the garden tunnel to eat all the weeds and to fertilize the garden. It worked greatly! Two weeks ago we started making the garden beds so that we can start transplanting the veggies growing in the green house. Last Monday we transplanted the Swiss chard, and by Saturday the whole bed was covered with weeds—well not exactly weeds, but sprouted chicken feed. We had been scattering the chicken feed all over the ground to encourage the chickens to scratch around in the dirt. Evidently more food was cast than the chickens could eat—for we have a nice carpet of sprouted chicken feed. I guess that is where the silage tarps (that I still do not have) come in handy. Evidently you put the chickens into the garden nine weeks before you are ready to plant. It takes them about six weeks to clear it out, then you are supposed to cover it with the silage tarps for three weeks to encourage all the seeds to sprout and then the heat from the silage tarp cooks them and kills them. Lesson one learned, maybe that was lesson two or three, for the first lesson was to have a greenhouse to start your seedlings in, and the second lesson was to start them many weeks ahead of when the calendar says to plant them in the ground. I can easily get discouraged, but thankfully Mom can keep a positive outlook that rubs off. So tomorrow shall be spent finding the gift hidden in the tunnel full of sprouted chicken feed—when I would rather be growing lettuce, collards, kale, Swiss chard, and broccoli. I am hoping that we get to eat some fresh greens this winter.
One problem that we have had, and found the gift in is the problem of overgrown grass and no lawnmower. The sheep have been doing an excellent job as we move them from one field to another and one side of the yard to another. You would be surprised at how evenly they mow the lawn.
Yesterday afternoon Mom and I were planning on fixing the vent in the dryer, but we couldn’t move the washing machine out because it was full of water. So, while the washing machine finished its cycle, Mom and I headed to the garden and we were able to finish weeding the mullein bed, so that tomorrow Steve can dump a load of compost in it and then I can sprinkle seeds all over the bed and sit back and wait. Once the mullein bed was finished, then we dug up all the Echinacea plants. Their bed was majorly over grown with nasty weeds, and I figured that we could just move them to a new bed. So we dug them up, shook off all the dirt and pulled all the weeds out of their roots. I thought that there were only about three plants, but when we separated all the pups out, we had 21 plants. I always wanted to have a big bed of Echinacea, but I never got around to buying more plants. To my delight, the bed was produced free of charge. I cannot wait to see them in full bloom next summer.
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare