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Hi Everyone,
The fields are getting greener and greener and before we know it the animals won’t be able to keep up with all the grass. It also means that the weeds will start growing by leaps and bounds. Summer weeds have a tendency to grow three and four feet tall, and some grow three feet wide. Weeds are what our worker Steve call “job security”—and weeding is what we did a lot of last week. On Monday Mom and Steve were weeding in the raised beds, and before I joined the weeding crew I planted some wild lily bulbs that a friend shared with me—the kind that grow down by the river and when they bloom they are the first signs that spring is really here. Hopefully next year I will not have to wait until I drive past the river, but will get a glimpse of them under the old oak tree out by the garden. Then I planted some ginger. I harvested the ginger last fall, but I didn’t get around to storing it properly and it is starting to shrivel up—but it is also starting to sprout. So I decided to replant as much as I could—which was only about half of it. I guess I shall have to share the rest with whoever wants any. Once the ginger was all planted I decided to weed in the roses—but I didn’t get very far before we had a customer and then it was lunch time. After lunch I headed back to the garden—but not to weed. I had to harvest the squash, cucumbers and okra. Then I had to get cleaned up and cook dinner so that we could go to the viewing of our friends’ youngest brother who died from a car wreck. As I was fixing dinner the storm clouds outside began to grow darker and darker. Mom was already inside, and Papa soon came in and said that he guessed that the calves would not be separated for the night—and I agreed since it was fixing to pour down rain. Then I remembered the ducks! The ducks were running loose, but the duck house was closed to keep the heifers out that were sharing the back field with the duck house. We would not be getting home until after dark and with a resident fox in the area the ducks needed to be locked up. I was in the middle of cooking dinner and couldn’t leave the stove, so poor Papa had to go out in the rain to call the ducks to bed—but they wouldn’t come when called. It was only sprinkling when he went out, but it grew harder and harder and still no ducks. By the time he found the ducks and got them to “go to bed” Papa was soaked—that’s farming for you.
Tuesday’s goal was to start clearing out the caterpillar tunnels so that I could plant some okra and tomatoes and a cover crop of iron clay peas. I hated to pull up all the collards and kale, but most of the leaves were past “Swiss cheese” stage and were looking like bare bones instead—there was nothing but the ribs left. As Steve and I pulled up the collards the green worms fell to the ground in great multiples. I jokingly said that we needed a pet chicken—and then I got serious about it. So Steve and I went down to the poultry barn and caught us up an old chicken. I grabbed a piece of hay string and tied one end to my ankle and the other around the chicken just under her wings. Once we got back to the caterpillar tunnel—which by the way was living up to its name (was full of caterpillars) I put the chicken down near the caterpillars and she rebelled! She did not like being my best friend. After a few temper tantrums she finally sprawled out on the ground like she was going to die—and then she saw a juicy green caterpillar. I decided to unhook her from my ankle and now that she had spotted the caterpillars she worked her way up and down the row eating juicy green caterpillars and stink bugs. Maybe I should have hired her to do pest control by eating the worms off the plants so that we could continue to enjoy eating the greens. Maybe I will remember that idea next time we are infested with caterpillars. Anyway we had a blast watching Miss Hennypen scratching and gobbling. Then after about ten minutes it was as if she was full and she left and started back toward the poultry barn—I guess she needed something to wash all those bugs down.
After lunch there was an egg party but I worked on yogurt and making some new salves—I was selling out fast. I didn’t help with the egg party because of my thumb—holding eggs hurts it. I am not sure how “damaged” it is, but a few months back a cow stepped on my foot, and then it knocked me over with its backend—and I hit my thumb when I landed. Then about a month later I was shutting the feed room door and fell off the boardwalk—but my thumb was still hanging onto the door handle. Okay—no I am not the most graceful person around and clumsy and careless are known words to describe me. I had a therapist work on my thumb, but that only intensified the pain. There is one thing that does help it—not using it, but I am having the worst time with that part. I mean how can a milkmaid, gardener, cook, and cleaner not use her thumb? Well, since I couldn’t figure it out, God decided to help me. Tuesday night as I was cooking dinner I had one last cut to make on the okra that I was cooking—and that cut went right across the top of my bum thumb! OUCH!!!!! I am most thankful for a salve that I made years ago when my sister and I got spurred by a rooster—I call it my First-aid Salve. My finger never hurt, and it is healing nicely—but you cannot get a bandaged finger wet or dirty! I have learned to clean the cows without using that thumb, I can pull weeds one handed, I can still cook—but poor Mom has to do a lot more dishes. After four days of not using my thumb it felt a lot better—but it wasn’t well as I soon found out. Come Saturday I thought that my cut had healed enough to go without the bandage, but after milking the cows, cutting up about twenty long cucumbers to make pickles with, and ironing four of Papa’s shirts my thumb was aching very badly. Ugh! I think that I might need to look into an x-ray—but I don’t know how to find a cheap one (for I have no insurance) and a place that doesn’t require me to wear a mask.
On Thursday my two brothers came over with their birth mom (we adopted them when they were 10 and 12, and in their late 30’s thanks to the internet they were able to find their birth parents). My brother Charles was here for a week to visit—he has been living in Alaska for the last 2 years. Papa and my brothers decided to have a “man’s afternoon out” and they went to the shooting range. We ladies spent the afternoon together. I was thankful for the company when I took Moises home from work—for I can get very tired on the way home. When we got back we headed to the garden—even though a rain shower was coming. We pulled weeds under the caterpillar tunnel and stayed nice and dry and the wind and the clouds kept us nice and cool. When the guys got home it was time to fix dinner—Lemon Barbequed Broiled chicken, homegrown squash, homegrown potatoes with fresh onion chives and some green peas.
Friday was spent doing paperwork, harvesting the squash, cucumbers and okra, packaging the duck eggs and getting some shopping done. Lockdowns definitely changed our shopping habits, and since I didn’t like shopping to begin with the change has been nice. We go to the grocery store about every six weeks, and then some things we order off line. Our town shopping pretty much is determined by whenever we run out of white vinegar for the laundry. While in town I needed to stop by the local feed store and get some garden seeds and a few tomato plants. I have to say that a local farm store is the best place to get garden seeds. You can get small quantities or large quantities really cheap. While I may pay $4 for a seed pack in a catalog or on a seed stand, I can get a ¼ pound for $1.50 at the feed store. I needed some fresh okra seeds—for I want to plant more since the original okra rows are being swallowed up by the Seminole pumpkin plants. I have at least been able to harvest some meals off of the okra plants, but I do not know how long that will last—hopefully until the new plants are producing. Then I needed to buy some iron clay peas to plant in the rows that I will not be growing anything in all summer. The peas will act as a nitrogen fixer and a cover crop—for the earth does not like to be naked and if I do not grow a plant it will grow a weed. Then we got a few tomato plants—three to be exact. We never have much success with large tomatoes, but it doesn’t prevent me from continuing to try.
Saturday morning we milked the cows—that is we milked the ones that are still in milk, and fed those who have been dried off in order to get a rest before they calve. I was looking at the calendar this morning and we have about ten cows due to calve in June and July. It is always scary to me to dry off a cow for fear that we will not have enough milk to supply the demand, but then I have to remember that the cow needs a break and that is just the facts of life. In the farming world we know that production can many times be to the extreme—feast or famine. Thankfully we have some freshened cows already, so hopefully we won’t reach famine—but with ten cows calving it will not be long until it is truly a feast. Once we were done milking then there was the packing to do for the Gainesville order. The afternoon was spent straining the herbs out of the oils for the slaves that I am making—the Relief, Virus and Black Drawing salve had sold out and I needed to restock. Then Mom and I turned a bunch of long skinny cucumbers into pickles. This year we planted Suyo long cucumbers on trellises under the big oak tree in the garden. This shelters them from the summer heat, and they are thriving nicely. Since Mom is allergic to sugar we found a pickle recipe that calls for maple syrup instead. We made them last year and they turned out really nice—so we are making them again. Once we had the cucumber cut up, salted and iced I tried to work on my ironing pile (yes, it has become a pile), but my thumb brought that to a halt after four shirts—or was it after cutting up 20 cucumbers and then ironing four shirts?
I plan on planting the okra, tomatoes and peas this week—along with some more flowers. Thankfully Florida has a long growing season so I still have time to grow more flowers since ours don’t seem to be doing too well. I think that the black plastic weed cloth is burning them up in this Florida summer heat.
Now that summer is here—how do you plan on spending your summer?
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare