Seems Like A Lifetime Ago...snow at home

Early, early on a December morning - a Thursday morning. Will said 'I think it's snowing' and I went up to the living room in the dark; it was about 3 a.m.; turned on the porch light so I could see it falling; sat on the couch looking out the window for a while; went back upstairs and thought 'well, I woke up and looked and there it was and that is the end of that'. Ha.
In the morning it was still dark and it was still snowing. Will took these pictures in the early morning, before we both had to figure out how to get to work in all of this. We were sad we could not stay at home and watch this beautiful morning. But he had to be at work at 7 and I was coming into the very last day of final exams. I knew students would indeed show up and I couldn't let them down. So we slowly inched our way up the road, in our two vehicles, passing stranded drivers waiting for rescue from family members, and unfortunate folks who had slid off the road and into the ditch. Not to worry - everyone we passed that was in trouble was being assisted!
Carports collapsed under the weight of the snow, and big chunks of trees came crashing down; very sad for many of the small oaks we have planted...the tress that still had leaves could not hold the weight either. But they will survive. It took several days for all of the snow to melt, even though the temperature was above freezing in the daytime. I had no idea snow was that stubborn.
I remember only two other snows like this in my lifetime here in Louisiana; Once in the 80's, when we lived on 'The Farm', and the children were young. Once in the 60's when I was a child in New Orleans and we all went to the lake-front and skidded around on the ice - and fell down - many times.
Everyone I know took lots and lots (and lots) of snow pictures and I'm sure many of you have some of your own. If we're lucky, we may see this again. I am still in the camp of 'I couldn't do this for months and months each year', but I know that those who live in the frozen north think we're nuts to stand the heat of the summer. Bring it on. I'm good for that.

P.S. the garden survived. All of the snow-covered pak-choi and lettuce and broccoli unfroze and perked up and it didn't seem to matter at all to the plants.

Two months and more later...

sorry about that gap, folks: even this picture, the last of the moonflowers, is two weeks old - the little frost or two we've had has taken it's toll on most things
BUT NOT ALL THINGS!..the past two fall gardens have not shaped up very well - as usual, a good start, but the weather just did not cooperate, and we didn't manage to get everything in at the same time. Things are definitely looking better this time around. A little survey of the garden this week:

first, we have your broccoli: two rows, coming along nicely.
Then we have your very cute little lettuces of this and that type...
and your various other fall vegetables...carrots (no pictures yet) and beets (came up well, no pictures yet, but soon, soon)...but of course green onions...and adorable pak choiand the ultimate in fall planting....if one is ambitious and can look ahead six months....
500...count em' ! 500 strawberry plants YEA!!!!! now THAT was an accomplishment. Many thanks to Buffy, of course who, once again, helped make all of this happen. I am here to tell you that three sets of hands is more than 2+1.

And there are the fabulous surprises...we visit the burn pile, where we throw heaps of old plants when they are 'over with', and you never know what will happen. This season, we have bigger, earlier pak choi, and a very nice bed of cilantro!that's about it for this evening. In the past week, we've had a tour bus full of people from Southern University here at the farm, then a visit from other interested folks, including a representative from Americorps (working in New Orleans). It's great that so many different people want to connect with local farming efforts.
Wish us good fall garden weather. It looks like we'll have better luck this time around.

after Gustav...

I know it's been a while now: we haven't had tv or 'net access or whatnot for more than a week.
Gustav ravaged our area (Baton Rouge and points north a east and west and whatnot) and only today have I had internet access. You see here Will tied the beehives to the ground. And they held. We had pulled the boxes full of honey off of the hives and spun out the honey in the powerless vacuum that was our home for a week...also, I must say, Will made sure to pick up what crab-apples had not blown from here to kingdom-come; and made jelly - and I helped pull the pears off the trees (while dodging wasps) and there are canned pears (but there is a full hamper of pears and who knows what will become of them).
We are all very tired and trying to play catch-up. Tonight, Ike seems less of a threat and that is a very, VERY good thing. I thought Ike could not come here, because that would just be wrong.
Good thing the garden was 'between seasons'. The herb beds are blown over sideways, and there will be no planting for now; but we did pretty well, considering. more later.

oh my...who knew?

ok. First of all, this is what happens when you don't cut back pesky vines that encroach on your personal space: there's a wooden wind-chime thing in there somewhere...secondly, if you let it go long enough, the wasps are making nests up there, and of course you're all out of spray (and I'm sorry but we DO use wasp and hornet spray when necessary!)..,and if you look closely you can see one or two of the many nests at the top of the porch. And of course you can't pull the vines down until you take care of terrible things that will fly at you and sting you if you get on their little nerves...so you just don't get around to it..I mean, so what... it's summer, right? and plus we're busy! And then, you look up at the window in the living room that you never do look at, because you just never look over there. ha. This just made me laugh, I'm sorry. If THIS isn't late summer in the deep south, I don't know what IS.

right. spray is ready. now we have to wait till dusk to ambush the wasps. Guess I'll be taking care of this tomorrow...

A Perseid Reminder...

it's tonight. you know, the meteor showers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and I know it's a Monday
but it's only once a year, right?
so get the drinks and blankets and snacks
take a nap if you have to

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/26092954/?GT1=43001

Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you

the vegetables of late late summer!Actually, Buffy emailed and asked...'did the okra make it?' Buffy knows now, after having helped with the garden all season long, that sometimes you get a whole lot of something, and sometimes things don't work out. She and I had set out the okra plants more than a month ago....it takes a while with okra....of course, once it begins to 'make', picking is an everyday affair and is not optional! So, after doing some weeding this morning, I thought I'd wander over there and check out those rows. I mean, the plants are still very low to the ground - probably no more than two feet tall at most. So, I thought, I'll just take a peek. good thing. I wound up picking almost a full bucket...bending and cutting then standing and leaning back - that's a lot of bending down. And, even though you wear gloves; if you are stupid enough to not wear a long-sleeved shirt, which I didn't - you have your own version of the Itchy and Scratchy Show.
As to the field peas (yum), they have set and ripened with amazing speed...we put out a call to customers only last Thursday, letting them know that 'UPick' was what was going to be happening with the field peas (and got quite the response! folks seem ready and willing to wade out there and pick). ok. Here's a picture from last week...I tried to take some this morning, but the sun was too high at that point.
Without long pants on, there was no way I was going to make my way through the peas. The two rows are completely grown together in the middle, and they are butressed on one side by massive numbers of zinnias (full of bees of course) and on the other by big bushy trailing eggplants. No room to walk in between anything. Of course, it can be done; bt there is potential peril (wasp nests maybe, bees, and since Will completely cleared around the pond this weekend, maybe a snake, who knows? uh-uh. not this morning. But I got enough for dinner before I chickened out. Ah yes. Field peas and fried okra. ps: there's a watermelon in the fridge too. Actually, two. First ones.

When is 'Natural' natural?

When is Organic organic? And when is Sustainable really sustainable?

Our most recent struggle with the Raccoons over the melons and corn has me again thinking about the nature of humans and our relationship with the “natural” world. It should be obvious to most that there no longer is a natural world, except for a few islands of life so remote and inhospitable that humans choose not the live there. However, even in remote regions of Antarctica, the deposition of airborne PCB’s (now banned) and mercury (increasingly emitted by coal power plants) threaten life as the ice melts (pretty convincingly attributed to human activities) and the accumulated toxins make their way into the krill, fish, penguins and whales. So it is probably and practically impossible to find a spot on earth truly untouched in any way by humankind.
Seemingly, humans coexisted with the natural world in a somewhat peaceful and harmonious, albeit extremely primitive, basis for hundreds of thousands of years. Given, man apparently is responsible for the extinction of some animal species even while only equipped with Stone Age tools, and it is known that man utilized fire as a means to flush out game as is sometimes done even today. But for the most part, humans lived in ecological balance with other forms of life (i.e., were part of the natural world)…that is, until the advent of agriculture.
With agriculture, the whole game changed. Instead of a universally nomadic culture necessitated by following herds of animals that were the sustenance of the time, farming allowed humankind to stay in one place and to proliferate. Here is where the true environmental impact began and continues to this day with hundreds of square miles monocropped, corn grown for fuel, fertilizers made from natural gas, pesticides that bioaccumulate in fish, birds, and us, and bacterial genes inserted into crops to kill insects at first bite. Lions, tigers, bears? Oh my! I’ll take them over Bacillus thuringiensis genes in my sweet corn. At least you can keep the wildlife out with an electric fence (OK, I don’t know about bears, but you’ve seen Jurassic Park, so it can be done, at least for a while).
Which leads me to the fence, organic farming, and sustainability. I find it ironic and somewhat sad that, in order to do what we do, that is, to seek to develop a sustainable farm using supposedly “natural” materials to produce organically grown vegetables, we must utilize modern industrial products…steel, fiberglass, a transformer and coal-fired electricity…to keep out the critters that were here in the first place. And it is ironic that “getting back to nature” for us is to practice the very activity that provided the catalyst for rampant human population growth and the environmental degradation that inevitably follows (I guess we are getting too old to run naked through the forest in harmony with nature – too itchy anyway and, of course, the bears).
Our area is experiencing the same transformation that is occurring all across this county. What had been undeveloped land surrounding our little oasis when we arrived here only nine years ago is now a “golf community”. Here, I cannot complain. Many of our best customers live there, or inhabit other suburbs surrounding our little farm, and who can blame them? It’s nice out here (although getting a little close for my taste). But the bulldozing of seemingly vacant (from the human perspective) land to create this little slice of heaven has destroyed the habitat for thousands of creatures, some of whom (the ones not killed on the road) make it over here for an easy meal. And what do we “friends of the environment” do? We fry ‘em!
There is no satisfactory answer to this dilemma. If the deer and raccoons ate all of our crops, we wouldn’t grow them and, hence, the crops wouldn’t be there for the deer and raccoons to eat in the first place. And I have learned that it is better to grow a sacrificial buffer (buffet?) of peas in the back of the garden for our multitude of rabbits, who would otherwise create a lot of damage in the row crops. We also can feel good about the fact that what was an absolutely barren landscape nine years ago (even the birds would not stop here) has been transformed into a haven for birds, bees, frogs and creatures of all kinds. And yet it still bothers me that we (us and the critters) can’t all just get along (…if we could talk to the animals…). The painful facts are that the truly natural is unnatural today; that our sustainability is sustained by a healthy infusion of cash from our regular jobs without which this would not be possible; and, unless we are willing to do without our tractor, tiller, gasoline, plastic bottles of organically-approved insecticides, and go back to the Stone Age, we cannot be truly organic. But of course if we were there, we would be hunting the raccoons as food instead of keeping them out of ours.

C’est la vie!

One more time...

A few weeks ago, I looked at the burgeoning shelf of canned Tomato Sauce and Hot Sweet Garlic Pickles and the weekly output of Rosemary Jelly and my only thought was 'make it stop!'. So many days and evenings of cleaning and cutting and boiling of jars and cooking and filling and sterilizing...and waiting for the jars to seal and the jelly to 'gel' . True, there is an abundance of beautiful canned goods. But all of that, I have to admit, is exhausting. And this along with everyting else 'farm'. Then Will begins to collect ears of corn for processing because we missed the first round; it went by too fast and we were too busy. We really didn't want to miss this, the second and last round of fresh swet corn this summer. We wanted some in the freezer. I'll admit that yesterday evening, when Will said 'tonight is corn night!', I said 'have fun!'. He sat out there dutifully blanching the corn, then dousing it in ice water; cutting it off of the ears and bagging it for freezing - and I'm grateful that he was willing to do that. Last fall, at some point, we had crammed a very large frozen turkey into the big freezer...and hadn't noticed the door wasn't quite closed until it was way, way too late...everything had to be thrown out, including all of the corn (and other veggies) we had put up last summer. (also some things that were completely un-identifiable, but you know what I mean here...) An empty freezer does give one a fresh start, but all of the farm produce being thrown away was heartbreaking. I keep meaning to cut up and freeze bell peppers to add to the stock, and I probably will, but this week I'm enjoying the end of the summer garden, which means doing a lot of nothing for a few days. In the menatime, here is Crazy, obviously in disdain because corn is the focus of the moment, not him...

Mission Accomplished...we think

day 2 and it looks like the raccoons have been outsmarted - at least for now. Lots of damaged yellow melons from before, but no new damage. I'm glad the coons don't seem to like the other types:
And now, let's say a few words about the electric fence idea...Several years ago we were faced with a choice: electric fence or irrigation system. This was before the pond, so flooding the field with the pond wasn't even in the picture. We chose the fence - mainly because we were having such terrible deer problems, and we had tried several other things to no avail. Of course, that year proved to be the year of the worst drought we've had in a long time (of COURSE). And we thought we had made a bad decision...but that was then and this is now, as they say. It was the smartest thing we could have done. We chose to invest in a fencing system that went around the entire acre that is the garden. It was, in the big picture, not that expensive an investment. And to those who have written comments about your trials with critters (we know how exasperating that is!), I think you should take a look at this option. For a smaller space, it is very, very affordable. And it has saved us so much stress over time. We run higher wires when there are deer to be dealt with, but the smaller aggravating animals can be kept out with a few low wires (you do need to weed-eat frequently along the ground, though, so that the fence isn't shorted out by grass). All that human-hair / weird sprays / animal traps / shotgun at night (!) business can make you crazy! (we know because we've been there)... And you wake up at night knowing that they're still getting in and eating all your stuff while you sleep. And, of course, it does nothing about the blackbirds descending from above! Of course, from year to year, there's maintenance...but that's with anything, right? And it is basically a one-time investment - notwithstanding new wire from time to time, and this year we had to get a new box. But the first-time money pop is the only one that hurts. And it hurts a lot more when you go to gather the fruits of your labor only to find that something else has gotten there first! Here's a pretty good basic article about installing an electric fence around a small garden:
http://www.taunton.com/finegardening/how-to/articles/deer-proof-electric-fence.aspx

Raccoon update...

well - no picture for this: but Will did a perimeter run around the garden and came back in with half an ear of corn...coon damage. So, our nephew Dylan is here for the week, and will help with anything at all that needs to be done, so he and Will got out there, lowered the middle wire, then added a fourth one. This was last evening: Will had an epiphany while they were working. Of the first three strands, he made the middle one negatively charged (whereas they were all three positive before. I'm not going to pretend that I completely understand this, but from what I gleaned, this means the coon doesn't have to be on the ground to get zapped, but can get zapped while trying to make his way up and through the wires. I'm sure Will could provide a much better explanation, and we'll see whether there's any evidence of fried coon today. We'll just keep fighting the good fight. Probably the Owl and Bird will go up this evening. The blackbirds haven't descended yet on the corn, but it's only a matter of time, you know...By the way, here's a picture of a bee on the corn tassles. They were ALL OVER IT. Will says he's never seen this before, but it's mid-summer and the bees are looking for any pollen source they can find. quite cool.

It's War!

ok. We've been pretty lax about the electric fence...only wrapping the corn in it two weeks ago - and pulling that down after the corn was in. Years ago when we invested in this fence, the deer were playing fast and loose with things in the garden and we had to pull out the big guns. THen the golf course went up, and more subdivisions nearby, and there were less deer. Maybe that, and maybe they just knew better with the fence out there than to bother us. Either way, we haven't really needed it full time for a while. No more. Went out to check the precious watermelons...and this is what we found: Hmmmm....big scratching going on. Something trying to get into the melons.
oh no...an actual hole. This is very bad news. Looks like raccoons have made their way from the fenceline...very, very bad. Looks like the raccoons are partial to the yellow melons. And they don't EVEN care if they're ripe yet! Sure enough. Almost every yellow melon we found had been messed with, punctured, or totally destroyed! Something must be done. today, not tomorrow.
It was late in the evening. All we could do the first night was chain poor old Dude out there in the melons. I felt sorry for him, but Will assured me Dude didn't really care that much. I spoil him plenty enough the rest of the time. Well, by 1:00 a.m., Dude was barking his fool head off, and Will had to go out there and let him loose, for fear we'd wake the neighbors. We have very nice neighbors and they probably wouldn't even complain, but that's not a very neighborly thing to subject people to, the barking of your dog.
So the next day I went to the Tractor Supply to pick up half a mile of 17 gauge steel wire..Will came home from work and weed-eated around the fenceline. I rolled up all of the old wire from around the perimeter of the garden. (that's a long way). A lot of it was tangled and broken and it's a very unwieldy business, rolling up that wire. I ran off to get gas for the big mower. Will mowed. Then we worked on stringing three strands close to the bottom of the fence posts. It was late, late in the evening by then. the roll of wire weighs a billion pounds and is generally uncooperative. Will rolled it out and I walked behind, fastening it to the clips. And it was so terribly, breathlessly hot. Around the garden we went, once, twice, three times. It was slow work and it was almost completely dark. Even past eight o'clock at night, sweat was literally dripping off of us onto the ground. But we got it done. That night, we envisioned some surprised and frustrated raccoons out there. I'm sure one or two got zinged. We knew the fence wouldn't actually kill a raccoon, but we could always joke about dinner the next night, and cooking what around here is know as 'your outdoor meats'.

Mr. Tomato Head

Sometimes, you're just working so hard that things get downright silly...three of us were slicing romas for sun-dried tomatoes and cucumbers for pickle-making...and it was hot and the day was long and we came across this guy:
So it seemed he would make a good vegetable version of the stolen garden gnome...showing up here and there as we worked...just a little something to make you smile (!)

The Master Gardener Checks In

and now....an essay on 'corn' and the thinning thereof: time to stop for a moment and listen to Will;

My back surveys the situation. Eight 80-foot rows of calf high corn; four have been thinned already – four remain. The sun is already high and the sweat has been rolling into my eyes for the last hour or so. Best get this done and over with so I can fertilize and hill. The optimal spacing for sweet corn is about 10 inches. This late in the season, I thin from 10 to 12 inches in case water is in short supply, which means that for every 5 plants, four will die. I would love to be able to plant one seed every foot, but one cannot predict the vicissitudes of germination, so we plant every two inches or so and thin the plants. It becomes a game. One tries to thin out the weaker plants and leave the strong at the proper spacing, but best not to over think the situation or it will never get done. You often just have to take out that outstanding plant in the interest of proper spacing, apologizing under your breath for the tragedy. No spreading of your leaves in the nurturing sun or dusting pollen to your awaiting ears… But the corn can’t hear you; it doesn’t yet have ears.
I endlessly repeat the grade school P.E exercise “touch your toe, touch your toe”. You would think your back would develop the strength of Atlas and I guess it might if you did this every day, but the activity is seasonal and infrequent. Like building a house, once your back and legs are accustomed to stooping down on the floor, you employ a different set of muscles to install the ceiling. Fortunately, it is only four more rows. I can remember the 400-foot rows I worked at the Isabel farm. One of those would be longer than these remaining four combined. And I usually planted 10 rows at a time. On those green ribbons, it was always best not to look up; just keep going until you could sense that you were near the end. I was much younger then, but had the same problem straightening up afterwards as I do now. My mind wanders back to that time with the rhythm of pull, pull, pull, and the occasional snap of a plant breaking off instead of pulling out. As the broken plants separate, they make a squeaky sound like that when you rub your teeth quickly with your finger. There is also a unique smell that is sweet and rich. In the course of thinning, I also pull the taller weeds that the disk hillers will not completely cover, and try not to be obsessive about the weeds or the spacing. The corn doesn’t care, but what if the agriculture agent visits, “I can see you got off a little there (tape measure in hand). Yep, just what I thought, this one here is only eight inches and that one is twelve and a half. And you call yourself a farmer?” My face reddens in imaginary shame. But even the Ag. agent will not notice when it all becomes a sea of green and yellow.

Such is Life...

We came to the conclusion long ago that there were three indispensible vegetables (as far as customers are concerned). In no particular order, they are: tomatoes, corn, and watermelons.
In any given year, your corn could get blown over or the deer could get in and kick around your melons or the aphids and squash bugs could overcome your tomatoes....you get the idea. The jury is out on the melons so far, because they're just starting to run (crawl along the ground) and set melons - they look good so far, but you never know. The tomato season has been really fine, but they pretty much all set at once, so we are over-run with tomatoes (that's not a bad thing, though). The corn, on the other hand, has been interesting. Will works so hard to plant, thin, hill, etc. etc. and the corn, as you have seen here, has been quite beautiful.You know, the critters can tell you exactly when the corn is ready. Because they start to get into it. And the battle begins. This year you would be amused at our efforts because they were, well-amusing. But necessary. We were trying to protect this crop for about five or six days, until the weekend (because Saturday is our big selling day around here). So...the raccons made themsleves known first. They come in from the far side; pull down a stalk - take a bite from an ear - pull down another stalk. Pretty big damage in a short time if you're not watching. So - Will wrapped the whole patch in electric fencing. It's a long story, but it got done and he stopped that monkey business:
Then the blackbirds come in from above. I'm sure you remember the Big Plastic Owl who sat watch on the dock in the winter and early spring. Well, his original purpose was to lord over the corn wen the time came. So up he went.And you remember the Osprey - the Kite Bird - also for pond protection - but, for good measure, Will put him out there too, although I wasn't able to get a decent picture - you can just visualize.
An army of measures and only for a few days...Alas - a wierd thing happened to the corn. DOn't get me wrong. We got corn...and some of it was beautiful. But as we inched towards the weekend, the ears started to shrivel up on the ends and the shriveled business began to creep down the ears..it is quite strange and we are not at all sure what it is all about. We've had many, many seasons of corn and have never seen this before. Maybe not enough water at the right time...but that doesn't quite fit the picture. There was enough water. who knows? We probably lost 50% of what was out there to this strange phenomenon. Maybe Will has some new ideas about it, I don't know. Our customers through the week and through Saturday got all they wanted, I think. But there would have been much much more. Oh well, that's the way it goes. This year, we have yet another patch of corn right behind this one, so for the first time I can remember, we'll have two crops this summer. We'll see what happens with crop #2. I guess what we always want is so much of something so good that you just don't care anymore and you can wait until next year to taste it again. That didn't happen with the corn. But it is close to happening with tomatoes, I can tell you.