Posts Tagged harvest

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.

Back in late July, two progressively demanding trends occurred to cause this blog to fall silent: my laptop hard drive started dying just as peak season kicked into gear.  By the time my hard drive crashed in August, I had no free time to worry about getting it fixed quickly, and so the farming season swept me into a whirlwind of activity that has only just started to settle down — now that the bitter winds and blowing snows of winter are making their appearance.

I’d love to be able to go back and fill in all the gaps for you, but honestly, I don’t remember everything I learned in my last three intensive months at the farm.  So in coming days I’m going to try to review some of the highlights, just to wrap up the year.

In August, most farmers’ markets are awash in color as summer produce hits its peak, so it’s no surprise that August proved to be a prolific and profitable month at the farm.

An abundance of heirloom tomatoes, ready for market

Heirloom tomatoes make up one of the three major crops at Dave’s farm, and he has collected and saved seeds over the years in order to have a rich variety of tomatoes over the season.  Varieties shown above include German Pink, Cherokee Purple, Moskovich, Sunkist, Jolly, and Yellow Pear, but later in the season we also had pints of Sun Golds, flats of Amish Paste, and many sunrise-brilliant Hillbilly tomatoes.

Green peppers put on their summer growth, while kale takes a breather

The peppers — both green bells and Hungarian wax — got off to a slow start earlier in the year, but by August we were starting to harvest them.

Second planting of cucumbers in field #6

Early heat in the summer meant that some summer crops, such as the two varieties of cucumbers shown here, produced early and vigorously, then tapered off in enough time for us to plant a second round.  The second crop didn’t yield quite as much, but it extended the season and brought in extra income, so it worked out well.

Second crop of squash, settling in nicely

A second planting of patty pan, yellow straightneck, and zucchini squash — even in a smaller field — added significantly to the season’s yields, and I harvested from these plants well into October.

Beets and leeks, going strong

I planted successive crops of beets throughout the season, adding new seedlings whenever old ones were cleaned out, so I would guess that this ended up as our most consistent, if not highest-yielding, crop.

Nothing to see here in the greenhouse

The intense heat of August — with many days in the 90s — caused us to empty the greenhouse, despite the need to keep seeding flats for fall crops.  Had I left flats in here, the seedling would have easily been fried, even with twice-daily watering!  (It got to the point when I would take flats, potting mix, and seeds out under the trees and work on flats in a cool breeze — anything to avoid this heat trap.)

Relocating flats for better temperature, sunlight, and water

Instead, we set flats out on the picnic table (and, later, the deck) where we had easy access to water and could keep an eye on the growing seedlings.  For fall, I continued to seed flats of beets, lettuce, kohlrabi, radishes, kale, and pac choi.

Our peak season continued into September, and I put in a very full Friday evening before Labor Day helping Dave harvest and prep for his big Saturday morning market.  By that point, we had all of the aforementioned crops ripening, as well as onions, more potatoes, loads of basil, eggplant, and even pears.  A busy time!

In my own gardens, August represented the trailing off of most summer crops, a superabundance of basil, the complete neglect of the bean and grain patch, halfhearted efforts at seed saving, and a complete panic about starting and planting seedlings for fall.  In short, a mess.

When peak season hits, you just have to hang on — it may be downhill from there, but boy, will it speed along!

One of Dave’s signature crops is his German hardneck garlic.  Be it labeled “hardy” or “extra hardy” or something else, it produces large, aromatic bulbs that sell well at market.

Early on, the garlic gets fresh mulch

Remember this?  Back in April, the garlic had just decided to kick into its growth spurt for the season, but it was still small enough for us to move around it easily in order to add a thick coating of grass clippings.

By June, those garlic patches stood tall and forest-like, difficult to move through.  I harvested all the scapes over a week or two, encouraging the plants to put more energy into the bulbs instead of the flower stalk (which is what the scape is, essentially).  Dave sold some of the scapes at market, but — happily! — I ended up with a large portion of them (in order to make garlic scape pesto for a flatbread I sell at market).

This past week, Dave decided to start digging up the heads of garlic in order to have more items to sell at the farmers’ markets.  The first row had a disappointing number of rotted bulbs — somehow the patch had become too waterlogged, despite being toward the top of a slope.  Still, we had plenty to clean and prep for market.

The boss shows his method of cleaning garlic -- I can do that!

This week, we dug up a few more rows, harvesting 75 pounds of bulbs.  It took close to four hours total over two days to clean all that garlic — spraying off mud, peeling back the damaged outer layers, and spraying clean any remaining blemishes — but when the sun is out, I rather enjoy pulling off my boots and socks, rolling up my pant legs, and getting wet while I work.

All clean and ready to bundle

I’ve become fairly adept, too, at bundling the garlic in groups of two or three bulbs to make up half a pound, so Dave put me to work on that, filling bins for market with fresh garlic heads.

All in all, I end the day absolutely reeking of fresh garlic juice, and my work clothes keep that aroma lingering around home.  Good thing I like it!

We’ll continue to harvest garlic over the next couple of weeks, clearing plots so that Dave can till and possibly have me plant some later crops.  The forecast for early next week is hot and sunny, so sitting and dousing the garlic and myself with water for a couple of hours sounds fine and dandy to me.

And it’s probably time to dig up garlic heads in my own gardens, too!

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!

This week, I started to get into a serious summer schedule at the farm.  Now that school is out for summer, Dave welcomes me coming to work earlier (since he doesn’t have to take his son to school in the morning) and staying as long as need be to get the work done.  That meant that on Monday I put in a seven-hour day, and Tuesday stretched to eight hours.

If you wonder how I held up, I’m pleased to say that despite minor injuries and regular aches, I did very well.  But then, we had an exciting week.

Room for more tomatoes, but not for ours

We still had tomatoes left after I planted the last patch last week, and we still had the lower third of one bed open for tomatoes.  But these wouldn’t be ours.  Instead, Dave had agreed to be part of a tomato-grafting trial this season, research being done at the OARDC here in town, and he left this section open for the Cherokee Purple tomato seedlings that the researcher would bring.

Grafted and ungrafted Cherokee Purple seedlings from the research station

On Tuesday, Michelle showed up with a flat of 40 Cherokee Purples — 10 ungrafted, with the rest grafted onto three different strains of hardy rootstock.  The goal of the research is to find out whether this grafting process for tomatoes provides enough disease resistance and general hardiness to make the time-consuming grafting worthwhile.

Can you imagine grafting something this small?

See, on fruit trees and other perennials, grafting makes sense because you’re investing a comparatively small amount of time on plants that will be around for decades.  But tomatoes, an annual crop, with such small stems and thus more delicate grafts?  Well, apparently the technique has met with success in Japan, Michelle notes, but these are early days for the method here in the States.

Note the graft (the "V") well above the soil and even the mulch

Michelle gladly answered our questions and shared ideas as well as her own questions about the farm — she’s enthusiastic about the farms she’s visiting for this project.  We talked while Dave’s daughter and I planted the seedlings (Michelle laid out the seedlings the way she wanted them to be arranged), being careful not to sink the plants so deeply as to cover the grafts.

One question I had was whether the seeds saved from the fruit of these plants would then carry the characteristics of both the rootstock and the Cherokee Purple strain.  (I don’t know much about grafting, so this may be a silly question.)  The research, however, is new enough that she wasn’t able to give me an answer — they simply haven’t thought yet to consider that aspect.  The seeds will produce Cherokee Purples again next year, but whether or not they will produce plants with increased hardiness remains to be seen.

Cherokee Purple trial patch, marked for different grafted rootstock varieties

In the meantime, we will watch this patch and see how things go.  (Since it’s the lower part of the bed, I suspect we’ll see some problems with excess water, but I hope it won’t be too bad.)  And when it comes time to harvest, we’ll be keeping special records on yields, resistance, and whatever else is notable.

I rounded out my work Tuesday with replacing other tomato seedlings that had succumbed to root rot, clearing out the old kale bed, harvesting garlic scapes for market, helping Dave lay the rest of the drip lines, and planting melons and winter squash.  Since we planned to spend time Wednesday preparing for a farmers’ market, we wanted to push through the field work while we could this week.

Wednesday morning greeted us with low skies and a steady rainfall that had me soaked through shortly after we started harvesting produce for Dave’s Wednesday market.  But the unofficial Post Office motto of “neither rain nor snow nor heat nor gloom of night” applies to farmers as well, so we persevered and harvested kohlrabi, turnips, beets, radishes, kale, mustard greens, and snow peas for market.

Everything for sale is weighed and packaged with care

“There’s an art to preparing for market,” Dave asserted as we started the day’s work.  From making clean cuts to harvest the produce to cleaning off unsightly leaves in the field, from washing produce thoroughly and cleaning off more problem spots to bundling produce together for sale, he demonstrated his techniques and explained his desire for the best-looking produce display.

Nope, not quite pretty enough for market

For example, turnips that looked perfectly good when pulled from the ground had to be reevaluated once cleaned — and these, sad to say, did not make the cut.  (They did, however, make it into a bin of seconds for me to take home.)

Bundles of turnips, ready for market

By noon, we had prepped all the produce he intended to take to market, laying bundles of root vegetables carefully in plastic bins and tucking leafy greens into plastic bags (stems all down, bag bottoms snipped to allow drainage).  And with that, my day’s work was done.

As we head further into farmers’ market season, I expect my weeks will follow more of this pattern — long days Monday and Tuesday, morning harvest Wednesday, and possibly another afternoon of harvesting later in the week.  So it’s good to get some of the basics of that process down now.  And I look forward to learning more about the art of farming.

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!