LAKE MACBRIDE— The harvest was 100+ spring onions, but that was not the plan. The weeds had taken over the onion patch when I went to pull them yesterday— they were too intertwined with the onions to separate them, and while attempting to preserve the onions, I ended up pulling them out. One of the produce drawers in the refrigerator is now half full of clean spring onions, which isn’t all bad.
The trouble was the onion sets should have been mulched immediately upon planting— a lesson for next year. Part of the problem is that my supply of mulch (a.k.a. grass clippings) wasn’t ready then. Another issue is that while I spaced the onions well in the rows, the rows need to be further apart to enable the gardener to access them for weeding. Live and learn, but this year won’t bring the big onion harvest for which I had hoped.
After clearing the onion patch, I mowed and bagged the lawn and now there is a tall pile of mulch where the hope of onions used to be. This afternoon’s forecast is for a 10 percent chance of precipitation, so a-mulching I will go around the Brussels sprouts, broccoli, peppers, and everything else.
It will be easy to fill the onion patch with other plants, as two trays of seedlings are ready for transplanting. They will now see service in the space formerly known as onion patch.
RURAL CEDAR TOWNSHIP— A student from Nepal greeted me at the work bench where four trays of soil blocks awaited transplanted eggplant seedlings. She was like so many college students, alert, intelligent, and possessed of the confidence of youth. She asked me a lot of questions: where I lived and about local culture. So many, I didn’t get a chance to ask her about Nepal and her reasons for coming to the United States. She had just finished laying down mulch in one field and planting rows of eggplant in another with a group of farm workers. She was ready to call it a day and go on to what’s next. One of many chance encounters that have made the last 15 weeks of farm work an enriching experience.
When my work moved from the germination house (formerly known as the greenhouse), to the barn, the sheep and lambs became occasional neighbors. The gentle bleating combined with bird songs made a soothing background while I made soil blocks, planted lettuce and transplanted seedlings. The two dogs hung out with me, napping most of the time. The intermittent encounters with other farm workers, combined with interludes of solitude in the barn—it is life as good as it gets.
Last week I brought jars of home made apple butter for the crew. My apple trees are expected to bear fruit this year, so the old stock needs circulation. To a person they liked it, making me happy to contribute to their farm experience.
There are apple trees on the farm, and if things work out, I’ll make apple butter from the fruit in exchange for some of the apples. My part time work on the farm has become a bartering process that gains complexity as time goes on.
There is something deep in meaning about this work. To see plants grow from seeds to seedlings to rows and then harvest is a connection with life itself. As the Nepalese student asked questions, I felt connected in a way that is hard to describe. Part of a sustainable and hopefully endless cycle of life on earth.
ELY— Two vendors braved threatening rain to set up tables at the Ely farmers market yesterday. I didn’t stop. Our refrigerator is full of leafy green vegetables from our garden and the CSA. This vegetable season will produce an abundance of variety and quantity. Already I have begun putting things up: freezing rhubarb and canning soup stock. We should support our local growers; however, there is a limit to how much one consumer can help. What’s needed is a movement supporting locally grown food. There wasn’t a lot of traffic at the market, indicating local movement in other directions.
It is still spring despite passing two unofficial starts of summer: Memorial Day weekend, and the release of children from school. What that means is the ravages of insects has not begun, and the leaves on the trees maintain their fresh wholeness. It won’t belong before the bugs begin to find the delicate food— there is a sliver of springtime to be enjoyed before summer starts.
I would make a list of all the garden produce and its progress, but that seems too Edmund Spenser or Walt Whitman. English majors take note that every list or inventory is not a good one, and how many times can a person write about the progress of apples in the garden and make it interesting? There is a big difference between spending time in the garden and writing about it, although one should really be an extension of the other. Suffice it to compromise by posting a photo of developing apples.
The pressing needs of the garden are to prepare another plot for planting and to weed, weed, weed. The first four plots are growing well, and number five has three bur oak tree saplings, the remains of the garlic and bulbs of iris to be removed. It will be a relatively big project to return that space to production. It was also the first one dug and planted when we moved to Big Grove almost 20 years ago. Did I mention the garden needs weeding?
LAKE MACBRIDE— These are the best days. Partly cloudy, temperatures around 70, low humidity and plenty of outside work. We enjoy them when we can.
It’s not to say there is complete escape from the troubles of the world. Yet, for a few moments, beneath the cloudy heavens, it is possible to forget— a reason to anticipate such times with great fervor.
Today was what local food is. There were major farmers markets in Iowa City and Cedar Rapids. Between the CSA and my garden, we have most of what we need for the week, so I passed. After an hour at the newspaper, I did go to the grocery store to buy provisions: dairy, out of season vegetables and a few special items— popcorn, chocolate, snack crackers. The bill was much lower than usual as a result of growing so much of our own food, combined with working down the pantry.
When I arrived home, the rest of the morning was yard work, pruning the pin oak tree and repairing the erosion near the ditch with bagged soil and grass seed. The majority of the afternoon was harvesting, planting and processing vegetables: radishes, lettuce, turnip greens and oregano.
I picked the rest of the first row of radishes and put them in a bucket. Next, I harvested all of the first planting of lettuce. This cleared a space to till the soil and re-plant two rows of radishes and the rest of the first crop of lettuce seedlings. My garden mentor said one of the biggest mistakes home gardeners make is failing to plant in succession. There will be more plantings of lettuce and radishes.
Near the herb garden I cut a gallon bucket full of oregano from the volunteer plant. Finally, I picked most of the turnip leaves, leaving only those plants that looked like the root would fill out. The turnips grow too tall, too fast, and block out the nearby spinach. I have been thinking about the turnip greens since winter.
At the end of the harvest, I had a bushel of lettuce, five gallons of turnip greens, and regular one gallon buckets of oregano and radishes. A gardener has to keep the produce moving to make optimal use of it. I spent the rest of the day processing the harvest.
The radishes were easy. I trimmed them and placed them in a glass of water. They won’t last long. The oregano was also easy. Since two plants wintered (I only had one last year), the plan is to dry the leaves and make a jar of oregano flakes for cooking. I washed the leaves on the stem, placed them on clean towels on the front step, let the sun dry them and put them on the shelves of the dehydrator to finish drying. I don’t turn the dehydrator on. The temperature is too hot for herbs.
The bigger processing projects were picking through the lettuce to find the best leaves— cleaning, cleaning drying and bagging it; and making a large pot of turnip leaf soup stock for canning. Turnips make the best base for vegetarian soup stock, although leeks, if I have them, are good too.
As the day ended, I turned off the soup, left it on the stove and went to bed. Sunday will be back to the realities of finding suitable paying work, putting up the soup stock in jars, and weeding the garden.
LAKE MACBRIDE— The house doors are open, creating a cross breeze that is very nice. This morning has been weeding the garden, and cleaning up the kitchen, neither of which jobs is close to finished. Time for an update on local food and the garden, beginning with the lawn.
With the abundant rains, the lawn had gotten lush and long. I spent three hours yesterday cutting and bagging the clippings on a third of the property, and now my tomatoes have their first layer of mulch to suppress weeds. Some say it is a bad idea to use grass clippings to mulch the garden because the seeds of weeds may be included. Others say the grass clippings should be left on the lawn for mulch. I am more concerned about suppressing the weeds in the garden. The rest of the spring grass clipping harvest is expected to take another four hours.
The tomatoes grown from seed and transplanted into the garden have taken. This year’s tomato plan means planting less in my plot, but because of my relationships with other growers, we should have more and diverse varieties. With the mulch being laid down, there is not much to do with tomatoes other than to watch them grow.
With our share from the CSA plus the greens from our garden, we are having salads daily, most times as a meal. The types of lettuce from each source are complementary, and there is plenty of produce to load each meal with veggie goodness. The key lesson I am learning this year is to keep planting lettuce and greens throughout the season. It will be a year of abundance.
We will have a bumper crop of oregano, and I am using the dehydrator to dry some of the herbage. A little goes a long way, so if I can store a small jar of dried oregano, it will last the winter.
SOLON— The umbrella snapped open as I exited the car on Main Street, heading toward the fire station and the 50th Annual Firefighter Breakfast. It was a steady rain and the breakfast traffic was light at 6:30 a.m. Despite the fact that eggs, sausage, ham, pancakes and beverages are not my usual breakfast fare, I like attending, being part of the community we have come to call home.
Firefighters tend to be on the bossy side. Given their work, they have to be. For example, I declined a raffle ticket and instead suggested a donation, laying some money on the table. The attendant responded, “here, take a ticket and fill it out inside.” How could I refuse? The hard sell is on the fried eggs, prepared in a pool of enigmatic oil. The cook asked three times if I didn’t want a fried egg with my scrambled. Resisting was hard, but I remained a firm no thank you. Coffee was served in a commemorative ceramic mug which diners could take home if they wished. Mine is in the dishwasher now.
During election years, the breakfast is awash with politicians. Since this is an off year, the only elected official (besides myself) was one of the town council members who was serving pancakes. There was a local businessman making the rounds, talking to people he knew. Otherwise folks were focused on the food and polite conversation. The tables began to fill up by the time I left.
As one of the Big Grove Township Trustees, I am responsible to help manage the fire station budget along with other townships served by the department. The fire station seems to get most of what the captain says they need. Our board only meets when we have to, which is mainly to approve the budget for the fire station and cemeteries, and to attend the quarterly fire station meetings with all of the townships.
Today’s fundraiser is like mad money for the department, which means buying equipment they could use, but for which they don’t have a budget. There are likely enough tax revenues to get the firefighters everything they need without the fundraiser, but the annual breakfast has become a popular community event.
Today’s rain is a hopeful sign that last year’s drought has finished. The annual firefighters breakfast is the unofficial kickoff of summer, and a fun event. It is worth stopping by on a rainy day.
RURAL CEDAR TOWNSHIP— A group of us transplanted eggplant seedlings from a sprouting tray into individual soil blocks. The work brought new learning about how to do this important work. Naturally, my native practices left something to be desired.
The key is to make sure the tap root of the plant, identifiable because it is very long, gets completely covered with soil. The other thing is to plant the seedlings with the first leaves as close to the top of the soil as possible. Previously, I left some of the stem exposed, thus making survival riskier. It goes without saying, and is likely part of genetic breeding, to pick the biggest seedlings for transplant. The new work was considered a promotion, although there was little rank among today’s group of workers.
After finishing transplanting some workers headed to the field to pick asparagus and I tagged along to see how they did it. Another learning process, and bonus dividend of this year’s work at the CSA.
The talk of the day included my onion patch, spring garlic, and questions about seedlings, basil, parsley, and the time to plant tomatoes. The farm began planting tomato seedlings yesterday, and based on our discussion, I am going to hold mine, at least until this weekend. They are about the point of being root bound in their cells, but I want to make sure we are past the frost.
Our household received a bulk mail post card from a competing business— someone who is taking market share from small CSAs like ours. We discussed it as a competitive reality to be dealt with.
There is not enough discussion of the impact of capitalization on local food, and I generated an idea for a future post. Between giant growers like Earthbound Farms Organic, and our CSA there is a middle range of farm operations that are well capitalized, and impact how local food is perceived. They trade on leveraging other growers, the previous marketing of local food, and consumers who have heard little about the local food movement. Watch for that one.
On the home front, the apple blossoms are falling like drops of silk, with or without a breeze, indicating the bees are doing their work. The lilac bushes are in full bloom, generating an aromatic that prompted memories of many happy spring days spent in Big Grove.
LAKE MACBRIDE— There is a difference between a frost and a hard frost, and last night’s temperature dip provided an example of what it means. From looking at the thumbnail to the left, one likely can’t see the frost damage on these yellow squash seedlings. If the reader clicks on it, the damage is evident along the left row.
Frosted Seedling
Try a closer view of one of the plants and see the blackened, frost-damaged leaf. The big picture is that temperatures at ground level are not uniform, and while some leaves were damaged, the patch of yellow squash plants survived the frost as a whole. Last night, when I decided that a 34 degree overnight forecast did not warrant covering the seedlings, I pushed the envelope, but my judgment was vindicated by this morning’s surviving squash patch.
Likewise, the seedlings that matter most to my summer salad plate were safely put away in the garage.
Lettuce, Cucumbers and Tomatoes
Apples are another matter. My report is that bees are busy pollinating this morning, and an apple crisis due to frost like last year was averted. There are some blossom petals on the ground, indicating post-pollination, but not many. Today the apple trees were again in full bloom.
Apple Trees Blooming
The closeup shows there was some frost damage, but not enough to endanger the entire crop.
Frosted Apple Blossoms
In the work-a-day world, people may not have time to spend closely observing the garden, and do worry about frost. At the same time, Mother Nature will provide for us, if we provide for her. There is no need to worry, just evaluate available information against one’s experience, think, take action, and live with the results.
If the yellow squash seedlings had all frosted, there is time to replant this spring. If my squash fails completely, other growers provide my safety network. In the web of life, we are never alone to face the frost, and that should provide some comfort.
LAKE MACBRIDE— The idea that a revolution should take place in the home kitchen is not unique to this blog. My focus on the relationship between the home kitchen and local food— that the latter won’t be viable in the way it could be without changes in the former— is not unique either. However, a recent New York Times article, “Pay People to Cook at Home” by Kristin Wartman demonstrates the disconnect between what is going on at the grassroots level regarding local food and priorities in urban cultural centers.
“Those who argue that our salvation lies in meals cooked at home seem unable to answer two key questions: where can people find the money to buy fresh foods, and how can they find the time to cook them? The failure to answer these questions plays into the hands of the food industry, which exploits the healthy-food movement’s lack of connection to average Americans.”
Her solution, as the title of the article suggests, is to pay people to cook at home, “(to place) a cultural and monetary premium on the hard work of cooking and the time and skills needed to do it,” including a government program. My suggestion is she hop on the shuttle from her home in New York City down to Washington, D.C. and witness the vast sea of farm industry lobbyists on Capitol Hill. She may then realize that hell would freeze over before any help in paying home cooks would be forthcoming from the federal government.
One can agree with the idea of placing a cultural premium on the value of home cooking, although we don’t necessarily want to return to the era of my great grandmother and her kitchen garden (see photo). The question is how, as a society, do we get there?
The future of local food and a revival of home cooking with whole foods is more dependent upon economics than upon time. If the economics are great, people will find the time. It is common knowledge among local food enthusiasts that the current economic paradigm regarding food, cooking and eating depends upon cheap energy.
Wendell Berry recently asked Michael Pollan, “what will be the effect on farming, gardening, cooking and eating of the end of cheap energy? Are physical work and real cooking going to remain optional?” Readers can listen to Pollan’s answer here. The gist of it is that as cheap energy fades from view, people will be required to become more self-reliant as a form of adaptation to the environmental crisis. This would likely drive more of whatever were least expensive, including local food and home cooking if they provided superior value, something it is not clear they do, at least for now.
The relationship between local food systems and cheap energy is important. I dismiss so-called food miles as an overly simplified argument. There is a complex but valid argument about the relationship between artificially low energy prices and high prices in local food systems that is worth pursuing. It is further complicated by the fact that the end of cheap energy will be delayed due to the proliferation of hydraulic fracturing and the abundance of natural gas it produces. The complexity of the relationship between energy prices and local food requires further exposition in another post.
People can agree that obesity is a national and local problem. They can agree that chronic diseases, related to eating habits (including salt, sugar and fat consumption), drive a segment of higher health care and related health insurance premium costs. Where there is difficulty agreeing is in answering the question whether to take a homemade brown bag lunch to work, or spend the 30-minute break going to the gas station to have $1 per slice pizza for lunch. Today, the economics of direct food prices drives the decision at one of my workplaces.
The revolution in the home kitchen will begin once we deal with the environmental crisis, cheap fuel and the false notion that there is not enough time for what is important. The economics of food are driven by these things. That won’t happen anytime soon, not until the importance is escalated by some imminent, existential reality. It is not as simple an answer as creating another government program.
A better answer may be to seek ways to recognize the value of all work in society. That too is a complex problem wanting an answer. Something this blog is working toward.
RURAL CEDAR TOWNSHIP— There was a palpable air of activity at the farm this week as planting the fields began in earnest. Rows were cultivated, marked with string in straight lines, and one-by-one, seedlings were lined up in measured intervals and put in the ground. The rows were straight and long, a display of spring’s hope and promise.
My role was to make more soil blocks and plant cabbage and broccoli seeds. The trays in the greenhouse were all used up, so as soon as the planting crew finished one, I secured the empty and replanted it. The greenhouse has become a brief way station in the life of the farm.
Seedlings Ready for Transport
The CSA has begun distributing shares and this week included lettuce, Bok Choy and “grazing greens.” Because of the high tunnel, these varieties were available so soon after a wet, cold spring.
11 weeks into the work, I am beginning to feel a valued part of the farm operation. People work their whole careers in an office, or as a professional, and never feel that way. Caught up in tedious acts of drudgery— driving, shopping, waiting, social drama— feeling disconnected from the most important things in life. It is nearly impossible to feel that way when working on a farm. It give the phrase “will work for food” a new meaning. Finding meaning may be what life in society is about.
Journey Home 
You must be logged in to post a comment.