It’s been a tough couple of weeks complicated by a lingering and persistent impulse to void the rheum of excess mucus. I don’t feel ill for the most part, but the coughing has been terrible.
Missing work without sick pay means less income and a further exploration of the life of low wage workers. Well into the experiment in alternative lifestyle, I don’t see how people can make ends meet, even working three jobs as I have been doing this spring. That said, I won’t give up and expect to continue hacking through this rough patch—literally.
I picked lettuce, spinach and radishes from the garden the last two nights and made a frittata for dinner with greens from the CSA, spring garlic and onions. It was satisfying served with a salad, and there were leftovers. Already garden production is worth savoring. Between now and Memorial Day, the focus is on getting the spring planting done.
For the moment that’s all there is to say except change is coming. To make this life more sustainable, to improve our economic base. How change will look is an open question. I look forward to seeing how it comes together.
The sound of children playing reached through still air to the parking lot where I distributed shares to CSA members. The sky was clear and children were having fun chasing balls, swinging on a swing set and playing in the grass. It lifted my spirits for that hour.
Grass Clippings
Lilacs are in bloom and apple blossoms are dropping petals as spring’s course runs through our lives. Flipping the calendar to May, there is much to get done before summer starts in three weeks.
A neighbor noticed I left the grass clippings after mowing. They wondered if they could have them, prompting this response.
Thanks for the compliment on our grass clippings.
I plan to use them on our garden as mulch in years one and two, then as compost after that.
I always delay mowing in Spring until the yard gets green and starts going to seed. Then I cut first with the mower, let them dry in the sun a couple of days if possible, and beginning tomorrow will start picking them up with the grass catcher attachment on my mower, or with a rake.
I admit they are nice, but you and I are likely the only people in the neighborhood who view them as an asset.
Over the years I stopped using lawn chemicals so there wouldn’t be runoff to the lake, and the clippings would be as artificial-chemical free as possible for the garden.
You might notice I stop mowing in October to let the grass get long for the spring mow.
I have been collecting up stuff for compost, and if I find extra, I’ll keep you in mind.
Thanks for asking, and see you around.
Cleaned Up Yard
It took two and a half hours of work collecting the clippings, including a spate of time tracking down some bolts to attach the top of the grass catcher. I took a bolt, nut and washers into the hardware store in town and said, “I’d like two more of these.” Within minutes, the clerk had them and charged less than three dollars. Once home I made short work of prepping the equipment.
The sun-dried clippings went into the grass catcher easily. The secret to preventing them from clogging the intake is drying them several days and driving the tractor slowly so the right amount go into the mower each pass.
The best part of the work, other than the economics of grass clippings, was the varied smells in the yard. Apple blossoms and lilac; the sour smell of the apple pomace; spring garlic; and the waft of fertilizer from a neighbor’s recently treated yard. Not everyone eschews lawn chemicals, although maybe they should.
Conditions are excellent for an abundant apple crop. There are plenty of pollinators, the ambient temperature is warm and the wind is calm.
Already I’m thinking of apple cider, apple butter, apple cider vinegar, apple sauce, and, of course, fresh apples. It is a hopeful time.
This morning’s chores included watering indoor seedlings. They need transplant as some are becoming root bound. Soon—maybe 10 to 14 days—they will be in the ground, so I’m not going to transplant into a larger container in between. The seeds I planted on Earth Day are germinating and it’s all good.
The challenge is finding time to work in the yard and garden—I don’t have any brilliance on that topic.
Working three jobs provides variety in life. For that I am thankful, yet they all demand time.
In between one and the others, carving out blocks of garden work time is important—something I couldn’t get adequately done last year.
Here’s hoping the inspiration of apple blossoms and lilac blooms engenders a better garden this year.
The fruit trees are blooming. The fragrance is sweet and rare. I stopped to breathe it in.
Pollinators buzzed, providing hope for a good crop of apples and pears, dampened only slightly by yesterday’s rain. Even the diseased Golden Delicious tree is blooming—perhaps one last crop before it becomes firewood.
The newspaper’s freelance garden writer wrote April is the time to get to work in the garden, and so I have. Spinach, peas, lettuce, radishes and turnips are up. The chives and garlic survived both winter and the spring burn. A new pile of apple pomace from the cider mill lies next to the horse manure and grass clippings, ready to turn to compost. There are plenty of weeds starting to grow, needing suppression. If I did nothing else, work in the garden would take all of my time this month and next.
In the bedroom, the tomato seedlings are about six inches tall. Seeds sprouted and are growing so that after hardening outside a day or two, they will be ready for planting.
At the farm there is less worry about frost and a more diverse crop has been planted. Broccoli, kale, onions and others are already lined up in field rows along with rhubarb and garlic that wintered. I spent part of Friday planting leeks in the field and transplanting eggplant seedlings in the greenhouse.
In many ways, April is for a gardener—last preparations for a rush to planting after the last frost. Then a season of replanting and weeding, and eventually harvesting. There are worse things in life than this.
Intellectually, how could it not be? The future must necessarily be one of producing food much closer to where people live, especially as transportation costs escalate, and current food sources in the California Central Valley, in South Florida, and in Texas face the extreme weather characteristic of climate change.
That said, life with food is not always about rational behavior.
Growth of organic food sales is unmistakable, with 2014 food and non-food item sales setting a new record of $39.1 billion. Organic was almost five percent of food sales, according to the Organic Trade Association.
There is good and bad organic food. When we think about it, what good is it to buy organic canned black beans produced in China more cheaply than what a local farmer can sell? Is it bad that local producers use “organic practices” yet do not secure USDA organic certification of their operations?
The good news is interest in organic food helps small-scale producers generate needed sales. As organic sales go mainstream, being found in four out of five grocery stores, a crop of informed consumers is making up 18 percent of buyers, accounting for 46 percent of organic food sales. There is room for continued growth in this segment as wider availability of organic food, and mainstream information about organic foods drive people to buy them.
Each week, I hear people explain why they buy organic food. Their reasons are diverse, and don’t always make sense. The commitment is often to “eating healthy” as opposed to any sound rationale. This attitude toward organic food can become problematic, and small-scale producers in the local food movement are particularly vulnerable. If organic is the latest fad, then long-term sustainability may be out the window for them.
Another thing people don’t mention much is as organic food becomes mainstream, large-scale players will increase their share in organic, and dominate the marketplace. Companies like Earthbound Farm Organic will become the norm, rather than the exception. Food conglomerates may establish gigantic organic food divisions as they have already done with gluten-free food. Better margins in organic food will attract capital, and small-scale farmers seem seldom have enough of that to compete.
I brought a bag of seven or eight kinds of spring greens home from the farm, reminding me of why I buy and barter for local food. I know how the farmers treat the soil, where they get seeds and rootstock, how they control pests, how they treat animals, and how they treat labor.
There is not much hope for a market based on “eating healthy.” It is not sustainable, even if organic is gaining market share.
Some of us find hope in being close to the means of production and getting our hands dirty. We also know the face of the farmer—something that gets forgotten midst the hoopla of buzzwords.
Knowing the face of the farmer is sustainable in local food systems. It is hard to replace, and it is time we got to know more of the farmers whose production we eat every day.
In 1983 I became a gardener. At our rented duplex in Iowa City I planted tomato seedlings which yielded some fruit. Every year since, and with every one of our four subsequent moves, we have improved our gardening capacity and techniques.
Our garden in Big Grove is likely as good as it gets. Each growing season has been full of observations, experiments and efforts to improve. I’ve learned a lot about soil, compost, mulch, seed propagation, weed control, pest control and disease. There is a lot more to learn. Hopefully I’ll be blessed with a normal lifespan to pursue improved gardening.
Seedling Watering Station
Work in the local food community helped me gain clarity on gardening. Perhaps the biggest change has been growing my own seedlings for transplanting. It opened the door to plant diversity, better germination, better garden plantings and better crops.
This year’s garden may be the most diverse yet. I’m experimenting with multiple crops in the same space, beginning with early lettuce, spinach and peas.
Pea Planting Space
This year’s planting includes two varieties of peas: snow peas and snap peas. Using the SE plot, where I grew tomatoes last year, I removed remains of last year’s plants, turned and tilled the soil around the stakes, and broadcast peas. I replaced the cages to protect the peas from predators. The hope is after the 60 day growth cycle, soil nitrogen will be improved and I can get another crop of tomatoes before the first hard frost. This technique came after research and some creative thinking, although I suspect I am not the first gardener to use it.
Watering Seedlings
I inspected the garden for the first time in several days. Radishes and lettuce in the compost heap are progressing nicely. The broadcast early lettuce and turnips look to yield a crop. The carrots and spinach have not germinated yet. There will be spring garlic in abundance, although the Golden Delicious apple tree looks to be a goner, despite my efforts to save it from disease. The rest of the fruit trees are have leaf buds on them, but I can’t see flower buds yet. I have to remind myself, it is still early—a month before last frost.
We don’t use many potatoes, so I no longer plant them. I grow a patch of spring onions, but buy mature onions on the market. Eggplants are always in abundance, as are zucchini and cucumbers. I plan a row of zucchini and three types of cucumbers, but no eggplant.
The garden is in reasonably good shape for April 12. The next big project is harvesting mulch from the lawn.
Farm work made up 20 hours of my week: planting seeds and seedlings. The high tunnel was half planted as of yesterday. It will be the source of lettuce and greens for the spring shares. Word is onions arrive next week and it will be all hands on deck to get them planted in the field.
When I get my schedule at the warehouse this afternoon, every time slot will have something next week. With local food production in the mix, life is good, getting better.
This week began another stint working at Local Harvest CSA. I’m back to soil blocking, planting seeds in trays and seedlings in the high tunnel in preparation for another season of vegetables. This year the plan is to work until the regular crew arrives in May—a month of physical labor to reinvigorate after winter’s inactivity. I’ll help with the first deliveries to members in two weeks.
The fields we burned earlier in the week look great, and the green up should be spectacular.
The work has been going a lot faster this year. With experience I’ve become better able to move from one task to the next. By the time I get fully proficient, my one-month stint on the farm will be about over.
That said, the rain has kept me out of the home garden where most of this year’s produce will originate. The green up in our yard has begun.
Prescribed burning is a requirement of some USDA/Farm Service Agency Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) contracts. Burning is an economical way to reduce lower thatch in a field and encourage growth of desired grasses.
It took four of us about four hours to complete a prescribed burn at the farm where I began work yesterday.
It’s important to schedule work days at home. Our lives are busy enough, so retreat by setting aside concerns and being at home interacting with neighbors, doing chores and working the soil can’t happen often enough.
That was my Easter Sunday—the second work day this month.
It was a perfect day to burn the brush pile. At one point, I had three fires going. My neighbors to the south were also burning theirs. Once the fire got going, I cleared a space to pile mulch until the garden is planted.
I have six garden plots and label them as north or south and then E (East), W (West) or M (Middle). Plot NM is the composting center. There are four peach tree stumps there, and a locust tree—mistakes all. There is also a patch of daylilies. I set the brush pile on top of one peach stump so the coals would burn the remainder away. Mission accomplished. One is below the boxed in compost pile and the other two will be a project for once the mulch is moved to the garden.
Plot SW was covered with grass clippings last year. Having been fallow, I plan to put some of my favorites here. I removed all of the clippings with a fork and moved them to Plot NM for storage. Then I raked the surface, and worked enough soil to put in two rows of Napoli F1 Early Carrots. I haven’t finalized the plan for this plot, but it should be fertile soil.
Plot SM has the early lettuce and turnips I planted on March 20. I removed the fencing and put in a row of last year’s Emperor F1 savoyed spinach seeds. The space where the lettuce, turnips and spinach are will be second planted, and I considered putting in peas next to expand the second planting area. I need to get the peas in the ground before it gets too warm.
I ended the gardening by getting the hose out of storage and watering the seeded areas.
There are always household chores and I cleaned the outside glass on the French door so we could see something through it besides spider webs. We hang a bird feeder there and I filled it with seed.
I swept up the remaining sand from the street in front of our house filling a bucket kept in the garage for next winter. It’s free and it looks nice once it’s removed. There is plenty around the subdivision, but I only take what I need. I used two buckets last winter and the inventory is five.
The kale seeds planted April 2 have germinated and soon I’ll remove the clear plastic cover from the tray. The pepper seeds planted March 21 are beginning to germinate and they will stay under a cover until all of them do. All of the indoor seedlings are growing nicely.
After finishing up chores, I prepared a pasta dinner and read a book. The next work session is scheduled on Tuesday.
It is part of the brassica family of plants. A cruciferous vegetable, broccoli is often an acquired taste, but once developed, one can’t get enough. The plan is to grow lots of broccoli in this year’s garden.
I don’t know how to do it. Most seeds I plant are straight-forward. Put them in starter soil, or in the ground, and watch them grow. Broccoli presents challenges, and in most previous years our supply grew from store-bought seedlings I transplanted, or excess from nearby farms. This year I am determined to grow them from seeds. There is a lot to learn.
Spindly Broccoli Planted March 14
My germination shed is a table set on a south-facing window. It’s not the best. Tomatoes, celery, peppers and basil have sprouted and grow toward the light. They look normal. The broccoli got immediately tall and spindly, and that is never a good sign.
Rather than compost the lot, I decided to transplant some of them into deeper cells. The leaves looked healthy—it was worth a try. Left as is, there would be no crop. I set up a work station in the garage with a goal of producing 24 suitable seedlings for the first batch.
Moving the Seedlings
Because the plants were so spindly, it was also easy to bend them over and crease the stalk. That couldn’t be good. The starter tray had 72 cells so there was room to experiment and still get 24.
I inserted two craft sticks, one into each side of the starter cell, and carefully lifted the clump of soil into a new cell lined with half an inch of starter soil. In many cases, the long taproot would hang down from the clump along the way. Protecting the stalk, I pressed gently and filled the new cell with starter soil. Success! Slowly the new tray began to fill.
Transplanted
This is basic gardening. Absent guidance or written rules, participating in the trial and error of producing a crop is fundamental to how and why we live. Yes, we look forward to broccoli itself, which is not assured without intervention like this.
It is not about the broccoli. It is more curiosity about other life forms and engendering survival and growth. It’s so basic to our lives on Earth, but often forgotten in a world where we can purchase broccoli year-around at the local mega-mart.
Good news is all the transplanted broccoli was still standing this morning.
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