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Hi Everyone,
Farming we will go, a farming we will go, Hi-ho the dairy-o a farming we will go! This week we have farmed from sunup to sunset, from Sunday to Saturday doing this, that and the other.
The new Shepherd on the Farm
We first became acquainted with our new intern, Clayton, when he showed an interest in purchasing sheep from us. We emailed back and forth and then he wanted to come out to the farm to see the operation and ask more questions. Then two weeks later we were given the opportunity for Clayton to spend about three months helping us on the farm—and while he is here he would get to learn the ins and outs of shepherding. I must say that I seriously hope that while he is here he only learns the “outs” of shepherding from stories we tell of the troubles we have already experienced. I know that many times first-hand knowledge is the best way to learn, but some things are nicer to learn by word of mouth (and learning from someone else’s hard times is always much better). The first week Clayton was here he learned how to catch a sheep, flip them up on the rump and back and get them “relaxing” so that you can check them over, trim their hooves and dose them with extra minerals. Last Monday Mom took Clayton out to the sheep field and taught him how to move the sheep and give them fresh water and free choice minerals. So for the next few months Clayton will be in charge of rotating the sheep to fresh pastures as needed and making sure they have minerals and salt every day. Sheep are interesting in that they know their masters voice—thankfully we have an old bottle lamb (Smokey who is now quite old) who just loves to be petted and so she comes to whoever is available. Smokey is also the “Leader of the Pack”, so when she comes—they all come and follow her wherever she goes. Speaking of sheep knowing their master’s voice, I think that cows do too. Some days Clayton helps Steve take care of the heifers and the broiler chickens, and other days he helps me milk (by milking Mom’s cows). Well the cows haven’t learned his voice yet. His bass voice is on the other end of the scale from Mom’s and mine soprano voices—and some of the cows’ just stare at him, and I might have to add my voice to the call to get them to come in to be milked.
The Fall Garden
If ever there was a year for troubles and trials to be the “Theme” for a gardening season—this is the year. I really feel bad—because Clayton has never gardened before. The first day here on the farm he helped us plant four beds (two rows each) of green beans—and then over the next three weeks he saw them sprout and be eaten by a deer. UGH! Wednesday night when I went to bed it dawned on me that I still had time to plant another crop of green beans—and this time we would deer proof them (Lord willing)! So as soon as I was done milking Thursday morning I headed to the garden and weeded the four beds and replanted them—and then I gathered my team (Steve and Clayton) and I began to “engineer” (as Steve called it) an idea to keep the deer out of the green beans. The first idea was to hang a three foot wide and sixteen foot long hog panel over the top of the beds so that the deer couldn’t get his head down to the ground. We got the panel in place and then I realized that the idea would not work. The four beds cover an area that is about eight feet wide and twenty-five feet long—and the panel didn’t even cover half of it. So the guys put back the panel and Clayton and I began driving around the farm looking for ideas. I found some three by eight sections of half inch hardware cloth that we had bought to cover the strawberries with one year to keep the rabbits out—to only find out that it wasn’t rabbits eating our strawberries, but roaches and worms. I decided to repurpose those four sections and rig them up over the four beds of freshly planted green bean seeds. We attached them with electrical ties to the fence on one end of the bed and then to two step stakes on the other end of the bed. They were just the perfect size to cover the beds and they really didn’t leave much room for the deer to walk around them. I added a few more wire cages between the rows to eliminate walking abilities and then we hung up two motion sensor lights that some friends gave us a year ago and we have just been using them for outside lights at the milk house—now they are being used as deer deterrents in the garden. Once the green beans were “secure” Clayton and I headed over to the sweet potato patch. We placed metal step stakes all around the ten foot by ten foot square bed and then we tied together multiple pieces of farmers’ best friend (hay string). Then we began to string it in every direction around, across, and over the sweet potato bed making some sort of a “web”. I would love to have some metal cans to hang from the strings so that the noise will frighten the deer away—in the meantime I can only imagine (in my wildest dreams) a deer coming along to graze in the sweet potatoes and getting all tangled up in the piles of hay string. In the meantime, Clayton was wondering just how many meals will those eight rows of green beans actually produce—in other words, “Is all this rigging actually worth it?” I can only hope so!
Deer proofing isn’t the only thing we have been up to in the garden. On Monday Clayton helped me transplant 24 collard plants and 150 bok choy plants. All the bok choy seeds that I planted sprouted—but there was trouble with the collards. I planted 72 cells of collard seeds—36 Champion Collards (2021 seed), and 36 Georgia Collards (2018 seed). The Champion collards came up with in the first week, but the Georgia collards took a whole week longer. Then the worms arrived in the green house and ate every last one of the Georgia collards—they didn’t even touch the Champion collards. In the end I only had 24 collards to plant in the garden tunnels—and truth be told I am still waiting to see if they will thrive or if I will need to go back to square one. On Tuesday I did go back to square one with the broccoli. Once again I planted old seed and it took an extra week for it to sprout and then the worms ate them all gone. I found some fresher seed—but still old, and if they have not sufficiently sprouted by tomorrow I shall head to town to buy some fresh seed. I also started some herbs, kale, mustard, lettuce and other greens and some of them are sprouting nicely.
The Martha’s Vineyard part of the garden is coming along nicely. Mom, Steve, Clayton and Papa have been busy digging holes and setting fence posts for the grape trellises. One side has all the posts in—just three more to go and then they will need to add the cross boards that will support the grape vines. Mom’s goal was to have the grapes in the ground by August 31—or at least their trellises up, but alas very seldom does farm life go according to a planned schedule. Plans usually do come to fruition—but seldom on time.
Then the time of year when the garden absolutely looks its worst has truly arrived—the end of summer. A full time gardener would really be helpful, but until that dream comes to pass we shall continue to accomplish what we can—when we can. Last Tuesday I was strolling through the raised beds and I was getting totally discouraged—there were weeds everywhere and a garden that was once so pristine and airy was now overgrown and closing in on me. I decided to take action and dropped down right where I was standing and began pulling weeds with a vengeance. While I was working, and still contemplating the “ugliness” of the garden, Steve walked by and said, “Look at this camellia, it is growing so beautiful this year and this Oak leaf hydrangea is just thriving!” I had to smile that he could find a “ray of sunshine” in what I thought was all “clouds”. It is so easy to see the glass as half empty—instead of half full. Behind every cloud the sun truly is shining, and in the midst of a pile of thorns some of the most exquisitely looking and intoxicatingly smelly roses bloom. I had hoped to return to the garden Tuesday afternoon after we packaged eggs, but God had other plans for me for HE sent some rain. That gave me a chance to work in the greenhouse and plant some more seeds. Steve, Clayton and I did get to return to the raised bed section of the garden on Thursday and we filled lots of walkways with piles of weeds. Things were looking much brighter after just a few hours.
Resting and Rushing
Life isn’t all work and no play on the farm—but some days I can truly bite off more than I can chew. I was blest to be able to spend a rainy day on Wednesday resting and reading—a much welcome arrangement. While that day was overflowing with an abundance of relaxation, Saturday was a different story. I do not know if I am a procrastinator or just plain too busy to get everything done that needs to be done when it needs to be done. A week ago the kombucha needed to be bottled—but I kept forgetting about it. For months I have been out of Lotion Bars and salves—but I haven’t been desperate (until the other day when my one and only lotion bar had shrunk to a half dollar size). I haven’t been able to catch up on my ironing—and I just found that one of our favorite books to be read on Christian Classics on our radio station www.BBNradio.org was being read and you can listen to it on demand (which means I can stand and iron while listening to a whole week’s worth of the book reading). Then the house needed to be vacuumed, and beds washed and made. So at 1:00 I began my “crazy woman” afternoon—if I thought that I was Superwoman, that idea was squelched by 7:00 that night. I started making lotion bars. I mixed all the ingredients and placed the pot in the oven and then I headed to my herb closet to gather the herbs to make my salves. On the way down the hallway I dropped my quart jar of comfrey and it shattered sending glass and comfrey all over the hallway floor. To say that I moaned is an understatement. First I grabbed me a pair of shoes, and then I cleaned up the glass and salvaged as much of the herb as I could. Then I took the lotion bar mix out of the oven and grabbed the vacuum cleaner and began vacuuming—while the job was on my list to do, I really wasn’t ready to do it yet, but with a mess on the floor it seemed like just the time to start. Once I got the mess cleaned up then I mixed the ingredients for my Soothing Salve, Black Drawing Salve, Virus Salve, and my Relief Salve. I popped them in the oven at 150 F, and headed back to my vacuuming. I was not completely done by 3:30, but if I was going to iron before dinner I needed to get started—and Mom joined me to listen to the story being read. That lasted for about 20 minutes when we received a phone call. I quickly ran out to the garden to harvest okra for dinner—of which I can never remember to harvest and the worms have just about eaten the plants gone. I only found a very small handful of okra and I came back inside to fold some laundry. At 4:30 I abandoned the ironing and headed to the kitchen to start making kombucha—and I put the lotion bar mix back into the oven to melt. Thirty minutes later I was in the thick of kombucha making, the lotion mixture was only half way melted and I needed to start dinner. Mom came to the kitchen to help the best she could (by washing the dishes that I was supposed to wash, but hadn’t managed to get around to them yet). As you know it takes at least three items to juggle and I was doing my best to juggle kombucha, lotion bars and dinner (oven-fried chicken –see my recipe here, butternut squash, white canned potatoes and roasted okra). I got the chicken in the oven; finished making the kombucha (Mom had to finish bottling the kombucha) and then I got the butternut squash on to boil. When I got to the bag of okra I found that I didn’t have enough to cook, so I ran out to the cooler and grabbed a few of our carrots, that we harvested in May and have stored in sand, and I came back inside and sliced up the carrot, chopped an onion and sliced up what okra I had and threw it all together in a pan of butter and added salt and pepper. Whenever people ask me how I cook a certain vegetable my answer is usually: in butter with salt and pepper. You can check out my blog: Butter Makes it Better! By the time dinner was done I was totally exhausted. Mom had cleaned up the ironing board, and instead of ironing and listening to our book read on the radio, I lay on the sofa and relaxed while listening to the book being read. Then I practiced my piano and sang for Mom and Papa and we ended the day enjoying a peaceful evening, and when bed time came I was more than ready for it.
Tomorrow is Labor Day—I wonder what kind of labor we can find to do?
Serving you with Gladness,
Tiare