Posts Tagged Cleanup

Time for a change in the seasons...

By the end of October, my farming apprenticeship with Dave was drawing to a close as quickly as the weather changed.  Within a space of days, the days turned from golden and warm to grey and blustery, and the field work I so enjoyed gave way to periods spent in a warm kitchen, saving tomato seeds and guzzling hot coffee while waiting for a cold fall rain to pass.

October signaled the passing of peak season, returning us to fewer crop varieties and lower yields as well as fewer days going to market.  But I continued to plant seedlings, keeping the fall crops supplied with new growth, and other crops — like potatoes — continued to bring me a harvest to clean and prep for market.

The last of the tomatoes

Once cooler weather arrived, even the hardiest tomatoes drooped quickly.  We cleaned out the plots, starting with the earliest-planted tomatoes.  I would go through the rows, clipping the twine from the trellising and removing plants, drip tape, and black plastic while Dave rolled up the wires and pulled out stakes.  (In one or two plots, I managed to do all that on my own.)  We salvaged the last ripe tomatoes along with flats of green tomatoes that proved to be market-grade, and then the rest of the vegetation got tossed onto the ever-growing burn pile.

Field #5 squash and eggplants ready to be removed

We let the second planting of squash ride out the season as long as possible, but the first hard frost wiped out what remained of the crop.  While those plants came out of the ground easily, their neighbors, the eggplants, fought me with their sturdy roots clinging defiantly to the ground.  (This was probably the time I felt most at risk of straining my back beyond tolerance; fortunately, I had the sense to step away and do something else before coming back to the task.)

Fall crop of pac choi and a cover crop of rye

Not everything succumbed to the cold, of course.  A fall planting of pac choi (which replaced the ill-fated third planting of cucumbers in field #6) took hold even as the leaves fell, and Dave continued to harvest from this plot well into November.  Other plots welcomed a sowing of rye seed — a cover crop to build up the soil fertility in the larger fields.  (Field #6, the newest and the most clay-heavy, especially needed this attention.)

Another OARDC experiment: planting lettuce in cold weather

Dave participated in a second farming experiment from OARDC researchers this fall.  In this case, the research revolved around the question of protecting fall-planted lettuce from the elements and providing the best assistance to growth.  Some of the lettuce plots had heat cables buried beneath the soil; some had plastic row covers (with slits for air circulation); some had both; and some had neither.  Part of the data gathering included collecting information on soil temperature through the probes found under cover as shown above.  As all of the lettuce was planted at the same time, it was a pretty safe bet that Dave would have plenty of lettuce to sell at market in time for Thanksgiving!

Full circle: planting garlic

My work at the farm would not be complete without closing the circle and planting the garlic that I found growing last year when I first visited the farm (in November).  Digging under a thick mulch of grass and leaf clippings, I planted row after row after row after row… of four varieties of garlic.  This first plot rapidly filled with garlic seed, so we ended up mulching two more plots to accommodate all that we have available.

(And after rounding out my last week at the farm with planting garlic, I ended up helping to plant garlic at the farm at Olney Friends School in southeastern Ohio — as part of a summit I attended — and then planting my own three varieties of garlic before the weather turned too frosty.)

Expanding plot #1 in field #1 in preparation for the high tunnel

Work would continue at the farm after I left: in my last weeks, Dave finally received the delivery of his high tunnel kit, paid for by the USDA’s EQIP funding.  He tilled the plot that would house the tunnel, adding extra inches to both the width and length of the plot.

High tunnel pieces parts

I helped carry purlins and posts and arches for the high tunnel, piling them up at the head of the plot so that they would be handy for construction.  In November, some of Dave’s fellow farmers from his Saturday market helped him start putting up the high tunnel, and just last week, the final touches were added.  I have yet to visit and see the new structure, but this should help Dave start his season early next year — as well as extend it next fall.

After eight months, starting in winter and running straight through four seasons, I left the farm at the end of October, exhausted and cold but very satisfied with all the work I had done and with all that I had learned in one growing season.  I am deeply appreciative to Dave for taking me on and teaching me all that he did — and for expressing the interest in having me return next year.

It’s been a good year.

In organic farming, the inputs used — for fertilizing crops, controlling disease or pests, etc. — have to meet USDA organic standards and be approved by the Organic Materials Review Institute (OMRI).  No Roundup here, thanks, though there are extensive lists of what is allowed.

For building soil fertility, there are several methods an organic farmer can use.  Sure, there are a host of commercial products that are OMRI-approved, but many organic farmers (like Dave) get back to the original idea of organic, nurturing the soil by keeping the farm cycle closed.  Composted animal manure can be used (following stringent guidelines for human health), and cover crops return nitrogen and other vital nutrients to the soil.

An additional source for green manure

Dave uses both of these methods, of course.  But the latest step in replenishing the soil this season starts here: at the pond.  The weedy mess of algae found on and just below the surface provides the farm with a good mid-season green manure.

Up until a few years ago, Dave treated the pond as most of his neighbors do: with that ubiquitous dye that reduces algal growth.  But then he read about coastal cultures that added seaweed to the soil for fertilizer (shades of Squanto and the Pilgrims!) and decided to stop the pond treatment and use the algae like seaweed.

Pond algae, ready to transport to the field

Once the big garlic bed was cleared and ready for a new mid-season crop, Dave spent an hour or two one evening scooping algae from the pond and dumping it in piles on the banks.  The next morning, he drove the small tractor around so that we could load the piles onto the flat trailer and take them to the open plot.

A little dab -- er, clump -- will do ya?

We picked up armfuls of the algae and slapped clumps down onto the bare, lumpy soil.  A patch here, a patch there — until we had the algae worked through most of the plot.  Days later, Dave ran the tiller through the bed, distributing the algae more deeply into the soil and smoothing out the texture of the plot.

After much consideration, Dave decided that we would plant a second crop of cucumbers in this patch, so that work — laying plastic and drip lines, planting seedlings — is coming up soon.

And whether or not we’ll harvest more algae for more fields yet this season remains to be seen.

The big garden on June 26 -- picture perfect!

Summer is well and truly here, as seen in the explosive growth in the gardens.  I’m happy to report, though, that not all the growth comes from the weeds (though there are plenty of those!).  Care to take a look around?

Going clockwise:

Chamomile, started from seed, in its first bloom. I smell tea!

For such a girly-girl cabbage, "Frigga" is coming on strong, even with all the ruffles

Sweet sugar snap peas, begging to be picked! (Yes, I did -- and I ate them on the spot.)

The flint corn is still struggling with weeds, but I'm working on the situation

Finally getting some weeding done in the oats, too -- they're looking good!

Salsify, lentils, and rutabagas (which, believe or not, were thinned!)

The carrots have been thinned, too, to allow the roots to plump up a little more: so far, so good!

The pac choi (left) still dominates, but the golden chard is growing nicely

Celery plants have filled out, though I'm not sure what to do next -- prune a little?

The cucumbers and dill have been basking in the heat --- look at them grow!

I worked in the garden both yesterday and today for 1 1/2 to 2 hours at a time, weeding a few more rows in the grain patch.  But each day I was rewarded with fresh produce: snap peas, radishes, Hakurei turnips, pac choi, chard, dill, lettuce, and chamomile blossoms.

And just look at what we have to enjoy later!

Garden #3, grown glorious!

All the rain we’ve had lately has not, of course, stopped my work at the farm, but it has given me plenty of excuses not to check on any of my gardens.  Those excuses ran out yesterday afternoon, so I visited both garden #1 and garden #3 to do a little work.

Garden #1, closer at hand, needs more work than I was ready to give yesterday, though I did harvest a large bundle of lavender and planted a Black Cherry tomato seedling as well as a few basil seedlings.  I’ll have to get back there some evening to tackle weeds and plant more seeds.

But garden #3, shown above, provides a glorious contrast, thanks to the faithful daily work of my fabulous friend Jen.  She tells me that she likes to begin the work day with her cup of coffee and about an hour of soothing weeding in the garden.  She took the time recently to mulch most of the beds after her husband mowed more of the lawn, and the difference from how the garden looked three weeks ago gave me a frisson of delight when I stepped into it.

So let me give you a tour:

Root crops, 6/11/10

The root crop bed, site of our first harvest, is looking much better with a thick grass mulch and clear lines of vegetables.  We have harvested several radishes and Hakurei turnips (top two rows), so Jen has planted more of each, and those new seeds are springing up already.  The rutabaga (bottom row) are coming on strong, so I have hopes of having a nice little harvest of those for once.  And I think my mother will end up having a bit of her long-desired salsify later this year, too.

Tomatoes, 6/11/10 (with basil and peppers, fringed by marigolds)

Although we’ve had to replace a couple of spindly tomato seedlings, all in all the plants are looking robust and beautiful.  Jen had to find bigger stake-type material in the brush pile out back in order to keep tying up the tomatoes!

Carrots! 6/11/10

At the edge of the tomatoes, a line of carrots bushes out, well nurtured with both grass and coffee-ground mulch.  It will be a while until we harvest these, but I am already salivating!

Broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbage, onions, 6/11/10

Looking at the patch of brassicas, it’s hard to believe that less than a month ago they were small, spindly seedlings.  Apparently they are very happy in their new home, and the recent rains have provided them the nourishment they need.  The onion crop is looking good, too, and if I get any kind of yield out of this bed, with crops I’ve never had luck with before, I will be thrilled.

Cucumber patch, 6/11/10

Slowly but surely, the cucumbers are coming into their own, with faint fringes of dill joining them.  The butterhead lettuce (bottom row) that had looked so pathetic coming out of the flat has rebounded beautifully — I think we may have to pick some this coming week!

Potatoes, 6/11/10

Potatoes!  Wow!  The first blossoms are ready to open, and it won’t be long now before we start harvesting new potatoes.  I hope to leave some in the ground (especially the Red Golds) for a later, larger crop to keep over the winter, but I am definitely getting hungry for some smaller ones.

Bean and grain patch, needing weeding, 6/11/10

The back section, where I planted dry beans and grains so recently, needs far more work.  Knowing how much work Jen has already put into the garden, I assured her that I would take care of this section, so I spent time weeding in here after wandering around the garden.  If I can get some mulch laid in here, too, that will help, but for now I am determined to keep the ragweed and other invasive plants from taking over.

Flint corn, 6/11/10

With all these weeds, discerning the crops amid all the greenery can prove difficult, but at last I found my flint corn seedlings, sturdy and surprisingly well-protected.  Granted, weeds are hardly the best way to “protect” crops, but given this plot’s tendency toward mud and the number of corn fields I’ve seen under water recently, I wonder if the extra growth — sinking their roots into the soil to keep it from moving more freely — hasn’t helped more than hindered at this point.  Still, this will be the next section to weed, perhaps later this weekend.

Lush greens, 6/11/10

Finally, the greens.  Truly, I think they have benefited from the recent rains more than anything else to grow so thick and lush.  In fact, the broccoli raab, beginning even to bolt, provided me with so much delicious greenery — more than either Jen or I can eat or preserve right now — that I harvested a pound of the very best leaves…

First produce for market: broccoli raab

…washed and packaged it, and took it to the market.  Yes, my first produce to sell myself!  This has been a momentous week!

Now I will have to keep a closer eye on the gardens — and keep working on them more regularly.

First big harvest from the 2010 gardens

Thanks to an early start — both in seeding and transplanting — I’ve just harvested the first crops of the year in mid-May.

Last year's chard, back for a second round

I spent Sunday afternoon at garden #2 in town, clearing out weeds and preparing for more planting.  Some of what I cleaned out, however, came from last year’s crop.  What you see here is the golden chard I planted last season and left to overwinter in place.  It bounced back to the point that I was able to fill a gallon storage bag with the leaves as I picked on Sunday — not a bad deal.  It wanted very much to set seeds and carry on further (as did some of the pac choi plants I found), but I had other plans for the space.

Before all the hard work began...

The lower bed looked completely overgrown when I first eyed it: two-year-old green onions gone to flower, enormous weeds (also flowering), a scattering of pac choi on the rebound from last year, leafy radishes, and the start of this year’s cilantro crop.  Cleaning up here took more time since I needed to sort out what went to the compost pile, what went into bags to take home, and what could stay in place.

The same lower bed, now ready for this year's growing season

But what a difference!  After cleaning up, I was able to plant four Rutgers tomato seedlings and a Peacevine cherry tomato, along with rows of bush beans, peas, and spinach.

Potatoes, garlic, and herbs coming right along in the upper bed

The upper bed didn’t require too much cleanup, though I did need to hill up the potatoes.  I planted more greens — lettuce and chard — along with radishes, cantaloupe, zucchini, and nasturtiums, a surprising favorite with my young nephews. At the end of three hours of absorbing work in the warm sunshine, I headed home with plenty of chard, pac choi, stinging nettles, cilantro, dill, and onions to add to my meals for the week.  What a treat! We’ve been harvesting at the farm lately, too, in time for Dave’s first farmers’ market of the season.  His early offerings included radishes, kale, lettuce, and pac choi, and he reported that he sold out of everything on Saturday.  A good start to the year! Unfortunately, the wet weather has encouraged the proliferation of slugs and snails in the pac choi beds, and at the beginning of this week, he resignedly told me to rip it all out.  The slugs had turned many of the leaves into green lace, and the crop was no longer market-worthy.

A few holes, but still good!

Sadly, I complied, but I managed to peel off layers and layers of tattered leaves and salvage six bins worth of greenery that could still be eaten, if not sold at market.  Dave sent me home with two bins’ worth, a bounty I’ve been turning into dried and frozen pac choi for winter eating as well as into meals for this week.  The rest will be for his family’s eating, and the scraps got tossed into the chicken pen.  (They’ve already increased their laying in thanks!) In its stead, I’ve been transplanting radish, beet, lettuce, kale, and more pac choi seedlings for the next round of harvests.  And around the new pac choi, I’ve sprinkled crushed eggshells (with Dave’s blessing) in the hopes that that will discourage the slugs from feasting on this crop. So here begins the harvest season, with an early bounty and early difficulties.  May the coming harvests be sweeter and less problematic!

Kohlrabi and other seedlings, rarin' to go

Now that April is here, everything is picking up speed for the growing season.  The seedlings in the greenhouse are growing lush in some cases and slightly more delicately in others, and it’s time to start planting, whether by seed or by seedling.

That means, it’s time for some serious physical labor.

Once the soil started to dry out two weeks ago — with sunshine and warmer weather aiding in the process — I started some heavy duty (for me) work at the farm.  It started with cleanup: Dave wanted me to clear out the seedbeds in field #3 to prepare for tilling and the first seedlings, and I cleaned out all four beds of leftover kohlrabi, leeks, beets, and other rotting goodies.  Before that day ended, we cleaned out a couple rows of stubborn kale plants in field #2 — truly a back-aching effort.

Feeling the pinch of the sciatic nerve and some serious aches and pains after that day’s work, I headed home for stretches, relaxation, and either a solid dose of ibuprofen or a drink.  The next day, I had a bit of a respite as we pruned grapevines, but I was pleased to note that even before we started work, my back felt a good deal better than the day before.

Future garden space in the new garden #3

Once the weekend arrived, though, the physical labor piled back on again.  I had agreed to work with my friend Jen to create a large garden at her place this year — partly to get her started gardening and partly to have a large place for my own crops.  She had plenty of room and a couple of weedy patches that had evidently served as garden space before, but we needed to clear out the brush and the weed trees first.

Not me, but the same kind of back-breaking tree-uprooting that I did

At first, it wasn’t much out of the ordinary.  Bending over to scrape up brush or to pull dried weeds, carrying bundles of dead organic matter to a brush piled, I felt slight pulls in my back, but nothing too horrendous.  Then we turned our attention to those accursed weed trees.  Jen’s in-laws tackled the larger ones with tow chain and then tractor, but we also labored to dig up and yank out the smaller ones.  That — and a tumble or two onto my rear end when the release came unexpectedly — definitely left me sore.

So what did I do?  I headed to garden #2 and dug trenches to plant potatoes, then sowed seeds for beets, peas, lettuce, radishes, and pac choi.  Yes, after that, I headed home, did my stretches, nursed my back a little — and then went out dancing that night.

The next day, I took grapevines to the Farm and bent over for two hours planting, backfilling, watering, and mulching them.  At least by this point, my back muscles were becoming more accustomed to the work, and the pauses and stretches that I included in the work helped me to avoid having my muscles bunch up too much.

First two rows of kohlrabi seedlings planted at the farm, April 5

“No rest for the wicked,” they say, and I must be a terrible person because I went from hard work all weekend to three days of planting seedlings back at Dave’s farm.  This allowed me to kneel or sit while I planted, but even so, I ached at the end of each day (though a little less every day).  By the end of my three-day work week, I had planted seedlings from about a dozen flats of kohlrabi, two flats of turnips, four flats of radishes, and perhaps half a dozen of pac choi, filling field #5 and the better part of field #3.

Each day it feels like I’m getting a little stronger — or at least balancing the physical labor with better stretches or more sensible breathers.  Each evening I have less significant back pain (or any other pain: neck, shoulder, arm, hand, wrist, thigh, calf, foot, you get the picture) and rely less on either pain relievers or a relaxing drink.  I’m nowhere near ripped and perfectly toned — but on the other hand, I’m not the cream puff I thought I was.  It’s satisfying to know that if I can pace myself and adapt my movements to what works best for me, I can work hard and get quite a bit done without feeling completely wiped out or racked up in pain at the end of it all.

It’s early in the season yet, and there’s plenty more physical work to be done.  I’ll be juggling increased hours at the farm, a day and a half of baking and delivery, work in three gardens, and heaven only knows what else, so I don’t expect to put my feet up and relax my way through summer.  But so far, I’m meeting the challenge and finding a way to adapt to a more physical way of life.

That may turn out to be my proudest achievement this entire year.

Softneck garlic, planted last October, ready to grow

I haven’t gone out to Dave’s farm this week to work.  The spring rains started up Sunday night and continued, off and on, into Tuesday, catching a brief pause yesterday before starting up again today.  We had hoped to clean up some of the vegetable beds, pulling the remnants of last year’s crops in preparation for setting out transplants in a couple of weeks, but each evening I waited for word from the boss man, only to hear that it was still “muddy as hell” out in the fields and that I needn’t bother to come out.

And so it goes.  Welcome to Spring.

Late last week, at least, on the very cusp of a new season, the warmth and sunshine conspired to draw me outside to work in my own garden patches to get ready for this year’s crops.

Hardy lemon balm, greening up and fragrant

I started on Friday with a visit to garden #1, just around the corner and behind a friend’s house.  While I wasn’t ready to yank all the weeds and such out of the soil, just to leave it bare for a few more weeks, I did check on the sprouting garlic (top) and the reviving peppermint and lemon balm (above).  I harvested small clumps of both the mint and the lemon balm, as well as two small bunches of pac choi that had overwintered well enough to continue growing this spring.  What a treat!

First seed bed of the year, planted March 19

Despite the early date, I decided to take a chance and plant the first outdoor seeds of the season.  I reasoned that as long as I planted cold-hardy crops, sowed them close to the stone foundation of the house, and mulched them heavily with straw, it would be worth the risk.  So I wielded my new collinear hoe to clean up the soil in that area, then laid down a line of fava beans, another of sugar snap peas, and a small row of hon tsai tai (an Asian green) and claytonia (or miner’s lettuce, normally found growing wild).  Will they survive whatever late snows and frosts get thrown at them — and thrive?  I hope so.

Garden #2, waking up from a long winter's nap

On Saturday, I visited garden #2, in the backyard of my adopted “family” in town.  My goal in this visit was to gauge what work might need to be done in coming weeks, to refresh my memory as to what was planted last year (before sketching out a garden plan for this year), and to harvest the remaining root vegetables.

Yes, I still had loads of parsnips and even some small carrots still in the ground.  Having last harvested some on Christmas Eve, I never made it back to the garden before the hard freezes of January and the snowstorms of February made me lose sight of the roots completely.  Happily, they came up easily this time, covered in thick black mud that smeared across my hands, and I filled a bag with sweet vegetables.

A few green onions lingered in the garden, but again, I didn’t worry about clearing weeds and preparing the beds just yet since I won’t get back to plant seeds for another couple of weeks.  It was enough to visit and reacquaint myself with what remained.

Later in the weekend, I sat down with my seed list and sketched out the two gardens, as well as another plot I hope to tend this year.  In each, I penciled in last year’s crops before writing in what I planned to grow this year, rotating the crops around and using companion herbs and vegetables to fill in the beds.  After that, I designated a sort of grid for each garden and figured out what could be planted first and when.  It pleased me to notice that I had managed to place all the early crops together in each garden, making it easier to plan my weeding and seeding in a couple of weeks.

As you might guess from a glimpse of the seed inventory list I shared a couple weeks back, I probably have way more seed than I have room to plant this year.  My garden plans, though they look ambitious and spacious on paper, will likely prove once again to handle only so much planting.  But that has never stopped me before, and it won’t stop me this year, either.

I might even have to check out a possible new garden plot in town.  And I’ll keep my hopes high for this year’s harvest.