Full sun all day, apparently a quick storm blew through in the early morning hours. The temperature danced in the upper 70Fs.
Stretch and Rhode Island got in early and had started washing yesterday's pick when I arrived. I sauntered down to the greenhouse and set up camp. Watered all the sprouts and to my surprise the broccoli I seeded has already germinated-- little shoots were everywhere. To my discredit-- I didn't do the best job, many plugs had 2 stems poking out. Thinned them out, one plant one plug, until the boss rolled in.
The first market started early, so I fetched the fancy wood produce crates from the barn and scrubbed 'em down. The boss's daughter was going to cover the first market, so she was around the store-- finally got the chance for a brief introduction. NYU and I started packing up everything for the markets (figured we might as well take care of both at once). For each: 1 crate of spinach, 1 crate of bok choi, 2 trays of lettuce (1 of loose leaf, then the romaine), 1 box of sweet peas, 1 box of snap peas, 1 tray of raspberries (18 pints and 18 half pints), 2 trays of strawberries (8 quarts each), 2 boxes of jams, 1 box of small pies (10 chocolate bottomed strawberry, 10 strawberry-rhubarb), 1 tent, 3 tables, scales, signs and shopping bags. No one buys rabe except CSA customers, so we don't usually bring it to market-- same for the swiss chard.
The van was all loaded up and ready to go-- NYU was heading with the boss and daughter to help with set up. There really wasn't much to do (or else the boss was too preoccupied to think up something)-- he sent me and Stretch to the lower fields to 'mix the fertilizer into the soil' with hoes. Neither of us had ever heard of fertilizer needing hoeing-- all the same, we turned over/weeded all the new lettuce rows. Lunch finally saved us.
NYU was back after lunch. The first market off to a slow start. Easy came in and we helped him clean the produce wagon and set up the CSA. Rhode Island appeared along with the boss and we loaded up the van for second market (the old reliable). Again, the boss was too distracted to think out real work-- so he sent me, NYU and Stretch down to mix fertilizer into the chard's soil. Not everyday is graced by ridiculous conversation, sometimes you're just left to hoe. The chard took 2 hours.
Back at the farm store we met up with the foreman-- we washed up and re-bunched a bunch of produce the boss shipped in from friends' farms to fill out the store. The CSA was in full swing, the spread is getting more impressive-- today we had: strawberry quarts, both lettuce varieties, snap and sweet peas, broccoli rabe, spinach, bok choi, swiss chard and tiny bags of arugula (not enough raspberries to put them out yet). Mouse was in the kitchen banging out pies-- they're always a hot seller on CSA days, people come for their share and then pick up a pie for dessert. The boss came by and decided tomorrow might be the first irrigation day in weeks. NYU and I went out through the tomato and lower fields reconnecting all the lines moved for tractor work. We set a water gun line through the bottom of the tomato field, one through the lettuce, one by the chard/kale/beets/choi, one line on either side of the peas and favas, and then we attached up all the strawberry drip lines. All ready for the water pump tomorrow.
Once more, the boss was at a loss for work. Bah and the Old Rudolpho's family had taken all the hoes, but he sent us to aimlessly weed through the string beans. Without tools, there wasn't much we could do except grab at the largest tower-weeds. Field mustard has sprouted up in patches, but we cleared out the lot of 'em. Closing was getting close.
After pulling through the worst of the string bean weeds, NYU and I wandered through the corn fields then back to the store. We helped Stretch wash and bunch up what produce remained. The foreman had checked in on the farmer's daughter (at the new market) and things had really turned around, almost everything was near sell-out. Stretch and NYU milled about chatting with CSA families, while I headed down for the end-of-day greenhouse check. The sun and heat dries out the tiny plant plug trays pretty quick, so I gave 'em a once over with water-- then finished thinning out my broccoli mistakes.
Closing time came and then home. As NYU said-- Thursday is the last night to clear out all the week beer before picking up weekend beer on Friday. Amen.
I'm headed back to the city for a long weekend tomorrow (the boss gave us July 4th off). Seems all I do these days is work and ride buses... rest is a station bench. I'll write something up for the day on the ride.
Friday cometh.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
PICTURE DAY-- 63 Strong and His Lobster Necks
Pictures, then day. Snapped these before heading home (apologies to Darlin for stealing her photo job).
Always gotta start in the greenhouse. The empty looking trays in the center are the 2000+ broccoli plants I marathon seeded. Behind the bale of soil are 2 plantings worth of lettuce getting ready for the field. The mound of green on the far right are actually 6 enormous potted rosemary 'trees.' On the left (out of camera frame) are all the 2nd round tomatoes and a load of basil inching toward their day of transplanting.
Cantaloupe are on their way. In the foreground are the ones NYU and I managed to weed around-- those in the back 2 rows are in desperate need of some plucking.
A lot has changed since the last picture day, here's a shot from the horse's edge of the tomato fields-- a sea of green. They are healthy as hell, and boy am I ready to get picking them-- just 3 weeks to a month till harvest time starts.
Little green tomatoes are pushing out. This will become a Rose tomato one day soon. The roman tomatoes are supposed to be overgrown with budding fruit, but I didn't think to take a picture.
But nothing is ever perfect. Found little worm-maggots like this guy chomping at a few plants. Deep maroon slugs with black spotting and stripes. I might mention them to the boss.
Down at the cherry rows. These are the posts I bashed in with immense help from NYU and the foreman. Bah and Old Rudolpho ran the wire and staked the lines down. All the work crews joined forces to string each tomato plant up to the guide wire. The line will shoulder the plant weight so they wont break beneath the heft of the many tomato clusters.
Turn a little to the right from the last picture and here's the view. Sea of tomato plants cooking in the sun-- its gonna be a good year if the heat and sun keeps.
Here is a close up on how we tie up the cherry tomatoes. Loose knot at the bottom then spiral among the branches up to the wire. Tying knots is surprisingly therapeutic.
Over to the lower fields. This jumbled mess is actually a vaguely organized jumble of snap peas (on the left), sweet peas (center) and fava beans (the plant mound on the right). Picking has hit full stride on the peas last week up till now-- and more are mere days from ready. Bah and Old Rudolpho's family have been very busy.
The Fava Beans. Yes, its no trick of the lense, the bean pods are enormous and meaty. I dissected one with the boss, his wife and Viking this afternoon. Inside the tough exterior pod, is a fibrous short white hairs packing in the beans shells. The beans shell have a thick wall, but once these are removed there's a soft bean within. Uncooked, they have a bitter zip taste-- but the boss says once cooked they take on a sweet flavor. Picking hasn't started yet on these favas, but soon very soon. My Italian friend at the pizza shop is ready to explode. In years past he has bought the entire harvest-- hundreds of pounds-- outright. This year he has some stiff competition so there might be a 20lb per purchase limit.
The Sweet Peas. Within the jungle you can make out some pea pods left to mature. These are pretty straight forward, peal the pod and there is a neat row of peas. As you might guess, they taste sweet.
The Snap Peas. The plant is very similar to the sweet pea, short vine structure curls in on itself-- allowing pods to sprout up everywhere in the tangle.Unlike the sweet pea, the pod isn't tasteless-- it's crisp and clean. You eat the pod/peas whole. We pop 'em like candy when walking the lower fields.
Rows of string beans. These plants have a ways to go before letting out their veggies.
Big beds of Swiss Chard (left), a half bed of 2 kale varieties (center) and a bed of beets (right). At the far end of the field, half the kale bed and beet bed has a planting of bok choi. The beets aren't ready yet, but we spent a lot of quality picking time here today (explaining why the chard/kale/choi looks so thin/non-existent).
3 beds of young lettuce. It takes these plants about a month to mature. They were transplanted about a week and a half ago. The CSA gobbles this stuff up, so we plant many cycles of lettuce co-currently to meet the demand.
3 mature lettuce beds. Left and center are the ragged left overs of romaine after today's cutting. The right bed is gone now. We cut all the loose leaf-- nothing but weeds remain.
A few rows of corn. These field shots follow the lower field's road edge chronologically- peas at one side-- corn at the other. The corn has shot up to 3 1/2 feet, growing a foot a week. The boss walked NYU and I through the corn today, explaining-- if everything goes right, just these 10 rows should produce ~900 dozen ears. I had it explained to me forever ago, but I still have trouble realizing the numbers-- one stalk really only yields one sell-able ear of corn. The rest are typically too underdeveloped. Also-- the corn lesson continues-- the silk strands on the ear? Each one is connected and develops with each kernel on the corn ear. The silk only browns when the ear reaches maturity and the strand becomes unnecessary to the plant. We have many (many) plantings of corn-- but this is the one planted first. Harvest should come sometime mid-early summer.
The mating dance of corn. Each stalk has both male and female reproductive accoutrements. The grain looking stem inching from the stalk's top is the male bit-- it will release its pollen down onto its female buds or the wind will carry to other plants in the field. Looking good and green.
The forest field-- the scene of last week's grisly vermin-day-of-reckoning. On the left are the long rows of summer squash, zucchini and patty pan destroyed by the vermin. You can see the field cloth we staked into place over the 3 rows. The summer squash and zucchini were in rough shape, but salvageable. The middle patty pan row (center of picture) was eviscerated-- only 20 ft of plants escaped alive (490 yards of waste). To the right, the shiny rows that kinda look like field cloth-- aren't. Those are 2 rows of cucumber planted in a new style the boss learned from his buddy's farm. The jury is still out on its effectiveness. I could go on forever but real quick-- not all plants (obviously) appeal to the vermin. But a plant's chemical make-up plays a major part in the vermin's choice. Young squash varieties offer a sweet smorgasbord-- but once they reach a certain developmental stage (according to the foreman), their chemical make up changes and animals are no longer enticed by the taste. It's just a matter of getting the plants to that point of maturity.
The peppers are developing more leaves. Bah, Old Rudolpho, NYU and I planted these around the same time as the tomatoes, but just look at the difference in their growth rate-- these are much slower. Slowly they'll come.
I can remember planting these guys well. The double rows on the right and part-way down the center are all basil. The single plants in the center and on the left are all the egg plant varieties. The basil is certainly a bit taller and the egg plants have more leaves-- but they've a long way to go.
Let me take you on a berry tour of the farm:
The blueberries are just day/week away. Almost all the berries have started to take on their blues and purples. I missed these last year-- the harvest hardly lasted 2 weeks due to the hot weather. This year looks good, very good.
The gooseberries. I sampled some right after taking the picture, and their bitterness has given way to a nice clean bite. We hardly ever get to pick these guys-- the old russian ladies come down and clear the field on their own.
The currants are coming. These I know-- they take on a bright fiery red when ripe. These berries have a tart zip similar to the gooseberries, but even smoother.
I realized that I haven't posted any ripe raspberry photos-- so here they are, in all their glory. Even in the late day lighting you might be able to tell the slight difference in red-shade between the ripe berries and the ripe-about-to-drop berries. I wouldn't mind picking a lot more of these tomorrow.
The blackberries are in bloom. The most of the other berry photos came from the lower fields/rows near the onion field, but these are on the way up the hilltop. They have a long way to go.
A close up on the blackberry blooms-- you can see some of the berries developing in the cluster.
The hearty surviving strawberries of the hilltop fields. These are not an ever-bearing strawberry variety, so their end is approaching. The summer sun has started to take its toll on the plant's leaves. But here's hoping for another week or two.
Not berries, but here's the view in the orchard-- the peaches are swelling nicely. NYU had money riding on them staying tiny and inedible-- looks like I might get to collect. They wont be ready till Fall, but I got my eye that one with some color in the center.
End of berry/peach tour, on with a few more pictures.
View of some hilltop fields. The foreman has been busy laying periodic rows of corn rounds. If you zoom in and look close, you can see where the one round is just starting to peek out of the soil and then the dirt where more corn rounds will be planted in the upcoming weeks.
The heartbreak fields at the hilltop, where my boys work crew nearly met its match. On the far left are the 2 beds of beets, then the 3 beds of spinach, then the arugula, the bok choi and the broccoli rabe. The weeds used to be pretty thick around here, that is until yesterday.
The potato rows are unrecognizable. They are thriving up here.The boss pulled out a plant to check their development and gave me a look/lesson. 5-10 potatoes are developing in each plant's root system. The soil up here is perfect, we can just plant them and forget them (with only occasional weeding). The Fall harvest will be immense.
Turn left from the potatoes, and as you can see-- the foreman has been busy in his tractor solitude. The big summer sweet corn planting is creeping along at a serious clip. I'm looking forward to the return of the corn forests.
Last photo, the view from the orchard. Freshly mowed by the foreman, the peach trees and their fields are looking good. The farm has definitely entered the front door to summer.
Today was one of long hard picking, so I left many of the raspberry rows and fields up to the imagination (but as a hint: they're overflowing). On to the day itself.
---------------------------------------------------
63 Strong and His Lobster Necks
Full sun all day through. The temperature stuck at the mid 80Fs.
NYU, Stretch and Rhode Island were out behind the farm store when I arrived, they were lathering up their sun burns with a communal tub of lotion. We've all become attached to our specific knives-- NYU has a long fillet knife with a wood handle, Stretch has a short razor blade with a long rubber handle, Rhode Island has a kitchen knife with a duct taped grip, mine's a kitchen knife-- its handle held on with wire, electrical tape and rubber bands. We sharpened the knives, grabbed a sack of elastics and carried a few pick crates up to the onion fields. The boss had left a note-- all the rabe and spinach by the onions needed to be cut.
Rhode Island and I took the rabe, NYU and Stretch handled the spinach. I carried up 12 extra crates as we needed them. The boss's wife was preparing for a day at the dump, so she walked out to the field to get some help. NYU, Rhode Island and I loaded her SUV with a few old TVs and odd junk. Then back to the field. The boss's daughter showed up at the farm store during our water refilling. She was showing off her 'newest accessory', a terrified kitten that clung to her with all its claws as Lucy darted around. Back in the field, NYU convinced Rhode Island that the boss's daughter carried a secret flame for him. The subject of conversation varied depending on pick-your-own families proximity. But money was a safe topic-- NYU had enough of the 'bougy' folks who shop at Wholefoods complaining about eggs and papayas and their supposedly 'frankenstein-free' fruit. He talked with me about wealthy people who disguised their wealth well, and those who didn't-- and the difference that makes. First haul-- 8 crates packed tight with rabe, 3 tight cases of spinach.
The boss came to pick up the crates and we headed down to the lower fields. A tower of empty crates waited for us by the chard. Rhode Island and I started at one end, NYU and Stretch started at the other. We picked 8 crates by lunch time. Before taking off, we hosed off all the chard/rabe/spinach. The boss's wife swung by to pick up any final items bound for the dump. She revealed that today was the boss's 63 birthday-- we sang to him as we carried crates into the packed cooler. He couldn't have been happier.
After lunch, the boys lathered their burns and we headed back out. As we worked through the remaining chard Rhode Island turned his attention once more to his hatred for Jockey. Apparently Rhode Island overheard his enemy verbally abuse the boss, and that just couldn't stand. He wanted us to run into kitchen and ride the kid out on a pike-- instead we finished the chard. The boss picked up our catch and we started picking Kale. Rhode Island and Stretch took the dinosaur Kale. NYU and I covered a purple Kale variety. We pulled 4 crates of each type. Next up was the bok choi. Stretch and I started at one end and we finished the 12 crates in less than an hour.
Once again the boss rolled by to pick up the crates, but this time he dropped off many more empties and a bunch of big cardboard boxes. The lettuce was next-- as much as we could pick before close. Loose leaf has been in high demand, so we picked the entire row before turning to the Romaine. Rhode Island revealed the intimate secrets of his grooming habits. NYU was horrified to hear that he didn't have a pet name for his manhood-- so he orchestrated an elaborate naming ceremony in the middle of the field. Rhode Island decided he'd take the name of his car-- Jeep-- and double entendres filled the afternoon. Stretch shared his relished image of Rhode Island joining a furious boss at the breakfast table after a clandestine night with his secret love. Everyone decided that Rhode Island was the savior of the field-- he might not work particularly fast, but his conversation makes any job a pleasure. 20 crates of lettuce (18 loose leaf/ 2 romaine), then 10 big cardboard boxes of romaine.
Closing came around-- we were out of crates and time, but plenty of lettuce was still in the field. The boys took off immediately. I helped the boss wash the lettuce and move it into the cooler. Chatted a while with Viking-- she's concerned about Jockey, after all he's human too. The boss gave us a fava bean lesson, when his wife came back from the dump. She's an avid dump picker and scored quite a catch today-- a heavy steel dolly with one flat tire, 3 steel shovels, an iron grub hoe with a solid oak handle and three perfect rakes. The foreman returned from another day tied behind the tractor wheel. Everyone went on their ways home-- I took today's photos then followed suit.
Tomorrow is the first double market and CSA day-- its gonna be a madhouse.
Onward to it.
Let me take you on a berry tour of the farm:
End of berry/peach tour, on with a few more pictures.
Today was one of long hard picking, so I left many of the raspberry rows and fields up to the imagination (but as a hint: they're overflowing). On to the day itself.
---------------------------------------------------
63 Strong and His Lobster Necks
Full sun all day through. The temperature stuck at the mid 80Fs.
NYU, Stretch and Rhode Island were out behind the farm store when I arrived, they were lathering up their sun burns with a communal tub of lotion. We've all become attached to our specific knives-- NYU has a long fillet knife with a wood handle, Stretch has a short razor blade with a long rubber handle, Rhode Island has a kitchen knife with a duct taped grip, mine's a kitchen knife-- its handle held on with wire, electrical tape and rubber bands. We sharpened the knives, grabbed a sack of elastics and carried a few pick crates up to the onion fields. The boss had left a note-- all the rabe and spinach by the onions needed to be cut.
Rhode Island and I took the rabe, NYU and Stretch handled the spinach. I carried up 12 extra crates as we needed them. The boss's wife was preparing for a day at the dump, so she walked out to the field to get some help. NYU, Rhode Island and I loaded her SUV with a few old TVs and odd junk. Then back to the field. The boss's daughter showed up at the farm store during our water refilling. She was showing off her 'newest accessory', a terrified kitten that clung to her with all its claws as Lucy darted around. Back in the field, NYU convinced Rhode Island that the boss's daughter carried a secret flame for him. The subject of conversation varied depending on pick-your-own families proximity. But money was a safe topic-- NYU had enough of the 'bougy' folks who shop at Wholefoods complaining about eggs and papayas and their supposedly 'frankenstein-free' fruit. He talked with me about wealthy people who disguised their wealth well, and those who didn't-- and the difference that makes. First haul-- 8 crates packed tight with rabe, 3 tight cases of spinach.
The boss came to pick up the crates and we headed down to the lower fields. A tower of empty crates waited for us by the chard. Rhode Island and I started at one end, NYU and Stretch started at the other. We picked 8 crates by lunch time. Before taking off, we hosed off all the chard/rabe/spinach. The boss's wife swung by to pick up any final items bound for the dump. She revealed that today was the boss's 63 birthday-- we sang to him as we carried crates into the packed cooler. He couldn't have been happier.
After lunch, the boys lathered their burns and we headed back out. As we worked through the remaining chard Rhode Island turned his attention once more to his hatred for Jockey. Apparently Rhode Island overheard his enemy verbally abuse the boss, and that just couldn't stand. He wanted us to run into kitchen and ride the kid out on a pike-- instead we finished the chard. The boss picked up our catch and we started picking Kale. Rhode Island and Stretch took the dinosaur Kale. NYU and I covered a purple Kale variety. We pulled 4 crates of each type. Next up was the bok choi. Stretch and I started at one end and we finished the 12 crates in less than an hour.
Once again the boss rolled by to pick up the crates, but this time he dropped off many more empties and a bunch of big cardboard boxes. The lettuce was next-- as much as we could pick before close. Loose leaf has been in high demand, so we picked the entire row before turning to the Romaine. Rhode Island revealed the intimate secrets of his grooming habits. NYU was horrified to hear that he didn't have a pet name for his manhood-- so he orchestrated an elaborate naming ceremony in the middle of the field. Rhode Island decided he'd take the name of his car-- Jeep-- and double entendres filled the afternoon. Stretch shared his relished image of Rhode Island joining a furious boss at the breakfast table after a clandestine night with his secret love. Everyone decided that Rhode Island was the savior of the field-- he might not work particularly fast, but his conversation makes any job a pleasure. 20 crates of lettuce (18 loose leaf/ 2 romaine), then 10 big cardboard boxes of romaine.
Closing came around-- we were out of crates and time, but plenty of lettuce was still in the field. The boys took off immediately. I helped the boss wash the lettuce and move it into the cooler. Chatted a while with Viking-- she's concerned about Jockey, after all he's human too. The boss gave us a fava bean lesson, when his wife came back from the dump. She's an avid dump picker and scored quite a catch today-- a heavy steel dolly with one flat tire, 3 steel shovels, an iron grub hoe with a solid oak handle and three perfect rakes. The foreman returned from another day tied behind the tractor wheel. Everyone went on their ways home-- I took today's photos then followed suit.
Tomorrow is the first double market and CSA day-- its gonna be a madhouse.
Onward to it.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Rhode Island and the Boys
Full sun all day through. The temperature stuck at 82F.
Got in a few minutes late this morning-- not a good start. Avoided eye contact with the boss as he led the boys down to the lower fields, I passed down to the greenhouse. Chatted with the foreman about liquid fertilizer mixtures as I watered the seedlings-- 2nd round of tomatoes (for late summer/fall) are 3inches tall, 2 big plantings worth of broccoli are coming along (one almost ready for planting, the other hasn't germinated yet), romaine/loose leaf lettuce trays were slowly making progress, more basil is creeping out, 2 trays of zinnias are almost ready to be planted around the store and the potted rosemary plants were looking hearty as ever. I turned off the hose, grabbed a pick bucket and sprinted to the raspberry field at the far side of the lower fields.
The boys were just getting started, and the boss gave me a quick run down of the picking plan before he drove off in the SUV. He'd dumped 3 big plastic flat trays packed full of pint containers (~30 per tray). Raspberry picking is a dexterity game-- dodge through the prickered canes, digging out only the deep red berries (which easily pop off their stems when ripe). We use plastic paint buckets with ropes attached to carry the raspberries, so both our hands are free to pick and plop-- but you can never fill a bucket more than 1/3-1/2 full or else the weight will start to crush the berries at the bottom. I started at a fever pace to catch up/ pay penance for being late.
The boys crew is: Rhode Island (with Viking ruling the store, he's a field man now), NYU, Stretch, Big Boy (the new guy-- he's built like a thick stump, 14 years old but could bench press the van) and then there was me. We worked our way down the rows at a decent clip. Reached through the raspberries to shake Big Boy's hand and introduce myself-- he hardly said another word for the rest of the day. It was good to be back bullshitting with the boys, even Stretch was chatty-- ready to bust Rhode Island's chops at every turn. Though Rhode Island hardly left an opening-- he talked without stopping for a breath all morning. Jockey might as well have been tied to a whipping post, the way Rhode Island complained and tore the kid to pieces-- it got so bad that NYU (no friend to Jockey) finally told him to lay off and shut his face for a minute. Between that, Rhode Island's drinking stories and his detailed fantasies in filth, Big Boy was left somewhere between polite horror and terrified good humor. Rhode Island decided that because the boss has 2 daughters, we're all his adopt-a-sons by proxy. We filled up 2 trays (60 pints) and started a good number on the 3rd tray when we finished the rows (many berries left to ripen). Before leaving for lunch, I dragged the boys once more down the line to catch the few stray berries they'd missed.
After lunch I chatted with Jay-jay and Old Rudolpho. Two of the daughter-in-laws started working today-- their entire crew was out with Bah picking peas. The boys were ready to go, so we filled the water bottles and hiked up to the hilltop fields.
Like the boss mentioned yesterday, our big job of the day was to weed 8 beds (2 beet beds/6 rows, 3 spinach beds/9 rows, 1 arugula bed/3 rows, 1 bok choi bed/2 black summer rows & 1 Mei Qing row, 1 bed of broccoli rabe/3 rows). We started in high spirits-- be done in no time, or so we thought. Each row took about 40 minutes at a medium pace to finish-- but the foreman is always right, the summer boys worked like a funeral dirge. NYU kept with me and we cleared out the arugula in no time, then he took a beet bed and I turned to the Bok Choi. Stretch kept moving through a spinach bed-- but Big Boy and Rhode Island were a problem. When I finished the bok choi, no one had made any progress except NYU. So the two of us went to check on Big Boy-- and oh boy. The 2 rows he supposedly finished had more weeds left alive than beets. We gave him a few pointers and started to give him a hand, but he laid down and pulled weeds like he was playing with dandelions in a park. Rhode Island attempted to trade conversation for weeding-- so I sent him on a water refill run to the farm store. The sun was melting the boys down.
Fortunately Stretch upped his weeding game, between him, NYU and me we cleared nearly all the beds. Rhode Island finally returned in his jeep with water. With twenty minutes until closing, only the bed of rabe remained. All the boys set in and it proved a quick job. The boss came by to admire our work, then we all piled into Rhode Island's jeep for a near death experience/ ride back to the farm store.
After closing I stuck around to help the boss cut fertilizer bags into the spreader attached to the tractor. He asked me what I thought of Big Boy. I told him the guy did good for his first day, very very unused to the fields but with arms like his he'd catch on quick. The boss agreed. I checked in on the greenhouse and gave the seedlings a light watering. Viking seemed particularly harried in the store, so I took my leave and headed home.
Tomorrow is the first mega-pick day of the season. 3 markets start this week, the store needs to be restocked and the CSA is just a few days off-- hope the boys are ready.
Got in a few minutes late this morning-- not a good start. Avoided eye contact with the boss as he led the boys down to the lower fields, I passed down to the greenhouse. Chatted with the foreman about liquid fertilizer mixtures as I watered the seedlings-- 2nd round of tomatoes (for late summer/fall) are 3inches tall, 2 big plantings worth of broccoli are coming along (one almost ready for planting, the other hasn't germinated yet), romaine/loose leaf lettuce trays were slowly making progress, more basil is creeping out, 2 trays of zinnias are almost ready to be planted around the store and the potted rosemary plants were looking hearty as ever. I turned off the hose, grabbed a pick bucket and sprinted to the raspberry field at the far side of the lower fields.
The boys were just getting started, and the boss gave me a quick run down of the picking plan before he drove off in the SUV. He'd dumped 3 big plastic flat trays packed full of pint containers (~30 per tray). Raspberry picking is a dexterity game-- dodge through the prickered canes, digging out only the deep red berries (which easily pop off their stems when ripe). We use plastic paint buckets with ropes attached to carry the raspberries, so both our hands are free to pick and plop-- but you can never fill a bucket more than 1/3-1/2 full or else the weight will start to crush the berries at the bottom. I started at a fever pace to catch up/ pay penance for being late.
The boys crew is: Rhode Island (with Viking ruling the store, he's a field man now), NYU, Stretch, Big Boy (the new guy-- he's built like a thick stump, 14 years old but could bench press the van) and then there was me. We worked our way down the rows at a decent clip. Reached through the raspberries to shake Big Boy's hand and introduce myself-- he hardly said another word for the rest of the day. It was good to be back bullshitting with the boys, even Stretch was chatty-- ready to bust Rhode Island's chops at every turn. Though Rhode Island hardly left an opening-- he talked without stopping for a breath all morning. Jockey might as well have been tied to a whipping post, the way Rhode Island complained and tore the kid to pieces-- it got so bad that NYU (no friend to Jockey) finally told him to lay off and shut his face for a minute. Between that, Rhode Island's drinking stories and his detailed fantasies in filth, Big Boy was left somewhere between polite horror and terrified good humor. Rhode Island decided that because the boss has 2 daughters, we're all his adopt-a-sons by proxy. We filled up 2 trays (60 pints) and started a good number on the 3rd tray when we finished the rows (many berries left to ripen). Before leaving for lunch, I dragged the boys once more down the line to catch the few stray berries they'd missed.
After lunch I chatted with Jay-jay and Old Rudolpho. Two of the daughter-in-laws started working today-- their entire crew was out with Bah picking peas. The boys were ready to go, so we filled the water bottles and hiked up to the hilltop fields.
Like the boss mentioned yesterday, our big job of the day was to weed 8 beds (2 beet beds/6 rows, 3 spinach beds/9 rows, 1 arugula bed/3 rows, 1 bok choi bed/2 black summer rows & 1 Mei Qing row, 1 bed of broccoli rabe/3 rows). We started in high spirits-- be done in no time, or so we thought. Each row took about 40 minutes at a medium pace to finish-- but the foreman is always right, the summer boys worked like a funeral dirge. NYU kept with me and we cleared out the arugula in no time, then he took a beet bed and I turned to the Bok Choi. Stretch kept moving through a spinach bed-- but Big Boy and Rhode Island were a problem. When I finished the bok choi, no one had made any progress except NYU. So the two of us went to check on Big Boy-- and oh boy. The 2 rows he supposedly finished had more weeds left alive than beets. We gave him a few pointers and started to give him a hand, but he laid down and pulled weeds like he was playing with dandelions in a park. Rhode Island attempted to trade conversation for weeding-- so I sent him on a water refill run to the farm store. The sun was melting the boys down.
Fortunately Stretch upped his weeding game, between him, NYU and me we cleared nearly all the beds. Rhode Island finally returned in his jeep with water. With twenty minutes until closing, only the bed of rabe remained. All the boys set in and it proved a quick job. The boss came by to admire our work, then we all piled into Rhode Island's jeep for a near death experience/ ride back to the farm store.
After closing I stuck around to help the boss cut fertilizer bags into the spreader attached to the tractor. He asked me what I thought of Big Boy. I told him the guy did good for his first day, very very unused to the fields but with arms like his he'd catch on quick. The boss agreed. I checked in on the greenhouse and gave the seedlings a light watering. Viking seemed particularly harried in the store, so I took my leave and headed home.
Tomorrow is the first mega-pick day of the season. 3 markets start this week, the store needs to be restocked and the CSA is just a few days off-- hope the boys are ready.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Living Up
Full sun today, big clouds drifted here and there. Temperature stuck at 80F.
Back from the city-- real happy to see Darlin. It took quite some sleep this weekend to shed last week, though squeezed a few shared drinks with friends. Met a 60 yr old man in a Hawaiian shirt outside the bus station-- he grew up in Oregon and we chatted a long time about the state of things in this world. It's funny how much an old man and a young man can agree upon.
Dwelling a bit on the city, probably because the first day back in the fields after a trip is always strange-- maybe lonely is the word. Monday is a lonely day.
Stretch (the tall high school guy who helped out in March) was back. He's been working weekends, but the boss has upped him to the big leagues. Rail skinny and two feet taller than me, Stretch has a speech impediment-- so he's pretty quiet. We grabbed 5 gallon buckets and headed down to the lower fields with the boss. Old Rudolpho apparently got real sick over the weekend, so Bah was out alone facing down the snap and sweet pea harvest--until we got there.
We focused on the sweet peas (Bah had the snap peas covered)-- even the boss was on his knees digging pods out of the tangled rows. We filled up three buckets and marched them back to the farm store. The boss decided that too many things needed doing for us to spend the day with peas. We have 12 rows (6 beds) of snap peas and 6 rows (3 beds) of sweet peas, all of them are ready to pick right now. 20lbs of each type are kept in the store, a couple hundred lbs are held for the CSA, and then all the rest are boxed up to be sold wholesale. Stretch and I headed up by the onion field to cut a crate of broccoli rabe and spinach. I sliced a quick crate full of rabe, then we finished off the spinach. Washed and chilled.
According to the boss, this could be the week for buying a new van. He only buys domestic made cars and machinery for the farm (strange then that he only buys foreign cars for his family)-- so its gonna be Chevy or Ford. The boss wife is a gifted negotiator, so he's waiting until she has a free day to head to the dealership. Stretch and I saddled up to go pick the hilltop field's strawberries-- except the van was outta gas. So we piled into the boss's wife's SUV and rode up-- felt like going to soccer practice. --Aside-- the boss has real interesting... music taste, he upped the volume on some top-40 hits of the week station on our ride.
Over the weekend the hilltop strawberries turned around, (it wasn't too great but) a lot more berries were ripe for picking. We filled up four boxes (32 pints) before lunch, with quite a few left for the picking. Last week's rain must have made me sun-soft, picking out in the full heat was oppressive. On the ride back to the farm store the boss pointed out the turkey nest that the foreman accidentally ran over while mowing down a field with the tractor-- big eggs were smashed all over the place.
The boss wandered into my pizza shop at lunch. He sat down and we talked up-coming markets. The town board convinced him into joining a new market at the town center-- unfortunately, its the same day as one of the old reliables. The boss hired a new kid today to work part time. He figures that between Rhode Island, NYU and the new guy, running the new markets shouldn't be a problem. Before the boss sat down I was flipping through a sports magazine, so we chatted about a NFL dropout turned professional crossing guard who has the strongest hands in the world.
Viking and NYU both have Mondays off, so no post-lunch hanging out today-- straight to work. Stretch had the trays and pints already, so we hiked back up to the strawberry fields for picking. The boss came to join us after a while and we polished off the sparse remaining rows. Before heading back with the berries, we checked out the beet/spinach/arugula/rabe field NYU and I weeded last week. Everything is growing fast, but detailed weeding is needed between the plants. The boss revealed his plan for a new work/wrecking crew-- I'd be in charge of NYU, Stretch and the new guy. Tomorrow will be our test day, weeding on the hilltop. I felt bad for the foreman, hardly ever see him out of the tractor these days-- definitely a solitary way to pass the days.
Back at the farm store we unloaded all the strawberries and got set for raspberries. Stretch was given 3 pick buckets and set up in the raspberries at the far end of the lower fields (picking the first of the season). I wasn't so lucky. The boss set me up with the trimmer to saw down the weed forest enveloping all the lower field rows. I ran out of string several times, but the going was quick-- then the serious business began, h hand weed the travel lane between the fava beans and sweet peas. The lane had been overgrown with tower weeds with waxy leaves resistant to herbicide. I gave 'em hell.
Through some miracle of the work-trance I managed to finish the entire 500 yard lane right before closing. Stretch dumped off his day's raspberry picking-- the boss was unimpressed and gave a brief lecture on the maturity required to get. a job. done. Felt bad for Stretch (i've never picked raspberries yet) , so I snuck him a cookie from the kitchen. I checked over the greenhouse before signing out-- and the boss caught me. He decided, in addition to a work crew, I needed to look after the sprouts from now on-- get them watered in the morning and make sure they stay hydrated on hot days. I hope a raise is creeping down the pipelines.
Bumped into Wild Woman (she owns and cares for the horses) on her way up from the barn. She refuses to wear shoes, even around the horses. It was the best news she heard all day when I mentioned the raspberries Stretch dumped at the store. She hustled in to lift a pint, and I headed home.
Plugged in the camera, a picture day is immanent. I wanted to wait for Darlin's next visit, but things are developing week by week now. No one would recognize the farm if I waited another few days.
On to tomorrow!
Back from the city-- real happy to see Darlin. It took quite some sleep this weekend to shed last week, though squeezed a few shared drinks with friends. Met a 60 yr old man in a Hawaiian shirt outside the bus station-- he grew up in Oregon and we chatted a long time about the state of things in this world. It's funny how much an old man and a young man can agree upon.
Dwelling a bit on the city, probably because the first day back in the fields after a trip is always strange-- maybe lonely is the word. Monday is a lonely day.
Stretch (the tall high school guy who helped out in March) was back. He's been working weekends, but the boss has upped him to the big leagues. Rail skinny and two feet taller than me, Stretch has a speech impediment-- so he's pretty quiet. We grabbed 5 gallon buckets and headed down to the lower fields with the boss. Old Rudolpho apparently got real sick over the weekend, so Bah was out alone facing down the snap and sweet pea harvest--until we got there.
We focused on the sweet peas (Bah had the snap peas covered)-- even the boss was on his knees digging pods out of the tangled rows. We filled up three buckets and marched them back to the farm store. The boss decided that too many things needed doing for us to spend the day with peas. We have 12 rows (6 beds) of snap peas and 6 rows (3 beds) of sweet peas, all of them are ready to pick right now. 20lbs of each type are kept in the store, a couple hundred lbs are held for the CSA, and then all the rest are boxed up to be sold wholesale. Stretch and I headed up by the onion field to cut a crate of broccoli rabe and spinach. I sliced a quick crate full of rabe, then we finished off the spinach. Washed and chilled.
According to the boss, this could be the week for buying a new van. He only buys domestic made cars and machinery for the farm (strange then that he only buys foreign cars for his family)-- so its gonna be Chevy or Ford. The boss wife is a gifted negotiator, so he's waiting until she has a free day to head to the dealership. Stretch and I saddled up to go pick the hilltop field's strawberries-- except the van was outta gas. So we piled into the boss's wife's SUV and rode up-- felt like going to soccer practice. --Aside-- the boss has real interesting... music taste, he upped the volume on some top-40 hits of the week station on our ride.
Over the weekend the hilltop strawberries turned around, (it wasn't too great but) a lot more berries were ripe for picking. We filled up four boxes (32 pints) before lunch, with quite a few left for the picking. Last week's rain must have made me sun-soft, picking out in the full heat was oppressive. On the ride back to the farm store the boss pointed out the turkey nest that the foreman accidentally ran over while mowing down a field with the tractor-- big eggs were smashed all over the place.
The boss wandered into my pizza shop at lunch. He sat down and we talked up-coming markets. The town board convinced him into joining a new market at the town center-- unfortunately, its the same day as one of the old reliables. The boss hired a new kid today to work part time. He figures that between Rhode Island, NYU and the new guy, running the new markets shouldn't be a problem. Before the boss sat down I was flipping through a sports magazine, so we chatted about a NFL dropout turned professional crossing guard who has the strongest hands in the world.
Viking and NYU both have Mondays off, so no post-lunch hanging out today-- straight to work. Stretch had the trays and pints already, so we hiked back up to the strawberry fields for picking. The boss came to join us after a while and we polished off the sparse remaining rows. Before heading back with the berries, we checked out the beet/spinach/arugula/rabe field NYU and I weeded last week. Everything is growing fast, but detailed weeding is needed between the plants. The boss revealed his plan for a new work/wrecking crew-- I'd be in charge of NYU, Stretch and the new guy. Tomorrow will be our test day, weeding on the hilltop. I felt bad for the foreman, hardly ever see him out of the tractor these days-- definitely a solitary way to pass the days.
Back at the farm store we unloaded all the strawberries and got set for raspberries. Stretch was given 3 pick buckets and set up in the raspberries at the far end of the lower fields (picking the first of the season). I wasn't so lucky. The boss set me up with the trimmer to saw down the weed forest enveloping all the lower field rows. I ran out of string several times, but the going was quick-- then the serious business began, h hand weed the travel lane between the fava beans and sweet peas. The lane had been overgrown with tower weeds with waxy leaves resistant to herbicide. I gave 'em hell.
Through some miracle of the work-trance I managed to finish the entire 500 yard lane right before closing. Stretch dumped off his day's raspberry picking-- the boss was unimpressed and gave a brief lecture on the maturity required to get. a job. done. Felt bad for Stretch (i've never picked raspberries yet) , so I snuck him a cookie from the kitchen. I checked over the greenhouse before signing out-- and the boss caught me. He decided, in addition to a work crew, I needed to look after the sprouts from now on-- get them watered in the morning and make sure they stay hydrated on hot days. I hope a raise is creeping down the pipelines.
Bumped into Wild Woman (she owns and cares for the horses) on her way up from the barn. She refuses to wear shoes, even around the horses. It was the best news she heard all day when I mentioned the raspberries Stretch dumped at the store. She hustled in to lift a pint, and I headed home.
Plugged in the camera, a picture day is immanent. I wanted to wait for Darlin's next visit, but things are developing week by week now. No one would recognize the farm if I waited another few days.
On to tomorrow!
Friday, June 24, 2011
A Reputation
Rained last night-- mist/ light rain all through today, weather picked up after close. The temperature held at a steady 58F.
(Last night had another long boot repair session-- they were dry as bone by morning.)
I met the foreman and NYU outside the greenhouse this morning. We hitched up the wagon and loaded it with 30 of the rusted iron trellis posts-- I could see where this was going. I tossed the maul and pry bar in with the posts, NYU found an old, bent iron bar with a flat end-- perfect for tamping down the soil. The foreman drove the muddy path down through the tomato fields to the two un-trellised rows of cherry tomatoes, and we set to work. The foreman drove over the row with the tractor and wagon, NYU dug out 3ft deep every 14 plants-- I bent the posts' cross pieces straight and bashed that iron into place. NYU and I took turns packing down the soil around the posts, we agreed it was too early for this sort of work.
Finished up laying the posts and we headed back to the farm store. Mouse might be rotated/ phased out of the kitchen, the girl who ran the baking last Fall has come back-- she has one of those pompadour/ponytails. Pomp wasted no time setting things straight (she's definitely a capable baker/cook). I sampled the first cookie batch, and she has both Jockey and Mouse beat. As it was her first day this season, the whole gang stood in the kitchen chatting for a while-- then back to work.
I stacked 40 or so empty pick crates back up in the barn, then the boss finally arrived. More CSA this afternoon, and our stock of strawberries was running low-- with Bah and Old Rudolpho out picking peas, it became our problem. We loaded the new tractor's front loader with cardboard baskets and the pint containers-- then hiked up to the 5 rows of strawberries on the hill top.
Things didn't look good. There were long gaps in the rows, and the berries were tiny, cracked, molded or mis-developed. The foreman sized up the situation, and we decided to get on with it. Strawberries-for-sale have to be perfect-- full deep red ripe (no white tips), larger than your thumb and free of marks (no rodent nibbles/cracks/etc). All the seconds (flawed but still edible) head to the kitchens for jam. We covered all five long rows in a depressingly short amount of time. The catch: 10 pints of sell-able berries and 20 pints for jam. Another 10-20 pints worth of berries were left in the field-- they need a week more to fully ripen. It was just about lunch, so we carted the berries down and split off.
(Wasn't paid in time for the city trip this week, so I ate in the car while driving a few towns over to my credit union. Got back crazed and still hungry.)
After lunch Rhode Island packed up the boss's wife's car and headed out for the first farmer's market of the summer. The rest of us had to get the CSA ready. Easy and NYU set up the wagons, then we piled on the produce. Noticed the cooler was nearly out of bok choi-- the foreman and NYU set out to cut another eight crates worth. The boss had other plans for me. He had picked up another bale of soil and a big round of broccoli needed to be seeded.
I headed into the greenhouse and set out 20 trays ( ~100 plant plugs a piece). I set in the soil, watered 'em and waited a few minutes as they soaked. I poured a heap of seeds into an ice cream cup and started seeding-- first you compress the soil with your fingers, drop 1 seed per plug (broccoli seeds are pin head sized), cover with a 1/4in of soil and then soak the whole lot over-- then repeat for 20 trays. I lost track of time-- in a seed trance. When I finished, I stalked up the hill and found NYU had just got back from picking. One hour had passed-- that was some damn fast seeding right there. I helped NYU wash up the 8 crates of bok choi, then we rolled it all into the cooler.
The CSA members were pouring round, picking up their week's share-- when the boss came to ask a special favor. His wife and daughter had just pulled in after a three day road trip (coming home after college graduation), and the daughter's car was stuffed full with her stuff-- he asked me and NYU to go unload it for them. Sure why not.
I'd never been further into the boss's house than the kitchen, but this time we got a full tour in between lugging boxes and furniture. NYU and I stared at a wedding photo on the wall-- the boss 40 years ago, long hair down his shoulders and one mean handle-bar mustache. The professor (the boss's wife) said they had terrible weather on the drive-- they stopped one night rather than be swept off the road in a flood. It looked like the boss was in the middle of major renovations-- we packed all the stuff in a stripped master bathroom. Despite all the unloading, I still haven't so much as met the boss's daughter-- though the professor thanked us over and over. Walking back to the farm, NYU and I had a few laughs-- this job...
Time was slipping by this afternoon, but one big task remained. While we were busy unloading, the foreman had cut a thousand or so lengths of string-- it was time to tie up those cherry tomatoes. We each took a few hundred lengths of string around our necks and marched through the tomato field. The foreman explained the business-- tie a knot around the plant's base (needs to be a little loose, as the plant's stem will grow as the season progresses), carefully spiral the rope through the tomato branches (hefting it up, but not too taunt that parts of the fragile plant snap off) and then tie the rope onto the line of wire running along the trellises with a slip knot (the knot allows quick untying for readjustments). We knelt down and got to it. Bah, Old Rudolpho and the latter's grandson Jay-jay , joined in the marathon stringing.
By the day's end we had several hundred plants strung and 4-5 rows completely finished (17 rows to go).
On the way out I picked up a bunch of stuff to bring Darlin in the city. Got some strawberry jam, lettuce, chard, and bok choi. The beekeeper finally came by and bottled up the first honey run of the season-- grabbed a jar of that for Darlin. Just as I was about to leave the boss stopped me.
2 things I don't like much-- complaining (as Perkins sings best: don't tell me your troubles, I've enough of my own, just thank god you're livin', drink up and go home) and bragging. I don't mean to be doing the second one, but: the boss gave me the week's paycheck, then gave me a pat on the stomach with the flat side of the butcher knife he was holding, he said-- I wanted to tell you, I'm damn proud of the work your doing. You like what you do, and you got a knack for it-- really shows. Take it easy this weekend.
I'm damn proud that the things I do can make a tough old man say stuff like that. I nearly forgot all about the late paycheck... almost.
Riding to the city on a bus right now-- typing in the dark. What a wet week. Happy to be dry and on this bus thinkin.
See ya on monday and take it easy.
(Last night had another long boot repair session-- they were dry as bone by morning.)
I met the foreman and NYU outside the greenhouse this morning. We hitched up the wagon and loaded it with 30 of the rusted iron trellis posts-- I could see where this was going. I tossed the maul and pry bar in with the posts, NYU found an old, bent iron bar with a flat end-- perfect for tamping down the soil. The foreman drove the muddy path down through the tomato fields to the two un-trellised rows of cherry tomatoes, and we set to work. The foreman drove over the row with the tractor and wagon, NYU dug out 3ft deep every 14 plants-- I bent the posts' cross pieces straight and bashed that iron into place. NYU and I took turns packing down the soil around the posts, we agreed it was too early for this sort of work.
Finished up laying the posts and we headed back to the farm store. Mouse might be rotated/ phased out of the kitchen, the girl who ran the baking last Fall has come back-- she has one of those pompadour/ponytails. Pomp wasted no time setting things straight (she's definitely a capable baker/cook). I sampled the first cookie batch, and she has both Jockey and Mouse beat. As it was her first day this season, the whole gang stood in the kitchen chatting for a while-- then back to work.
I stacked 40 or so empty pick crates back up in the barn, then the boss finally arrived. More CSA this afternoon, and our stock of strawberries was running low-- with Bah and Old Rudolpho out picking peas, it became our problem. We loaded the new tractor's front loader with cardboard baskets and the pint containers-- then hiked up to the 5 rows of strawberries on the hill top.
Things didn't look good. There were long gaps in the rows, and the berries were tiny, cracked, molded or mis-developed. The foreman sized up the situation, and we decided to get on with it. Strawberries-for-sale have to be perfect-- full deep red ripe (no white tips), larger than your thumb and free of marks (no rodent nibbles/cracks/etc). All the seconds (flawed but still edible) head to the kitchens for jam. We covered all five long rows in a depressingly short amount of time. The catch: 10 pints of sell-able berries and 20 pints for jam. Another 10-20 pints worth of berries were left in the field-- they need a week more to fully ripen. It was just about lunch, so we carted the berries down and split off.
(Wasn't paid in time for the city trip this week, so I ate in the car while driving a few towns over to my credit union. Got back crazed and still hungry.)
After lunch Rhode Island packed up the boss's wife's car and headed out for the first farmer's market of the summer. The rest of us had to get the CSA ready. Easy and NYU set up the wagons, then we piled on the produce. Noticed the cooler was nearly out of bok choi-- the foreman and NYU set out to cut another eight crates worth. The boss had other plans for me. He had picked up another bale of soil and a big round of broccoli needed to be seeded.
I headed into the greenhouse and set out 20 trays ( ~100 plant plugs a piece). I set in the soil, watered 'em and waited a few minutes as they soaked. I poured a heap of seeds into an ice cream cup and started seeding-- first you compress the soil with your fingers, drop 1 seed per plug (broccoli seeds are pin head sized), cover with a 1/4in of soil and then soak the whole lot over-- then repeat for 20 trays. I lost track of time-- in a seed trance. When I finished, I stalked up the hill and found NYU had just got back from picking. One hour had passed-- that was some damn fast seeding right there. I helped NYU wash up the 8 crates of bok choi, then we rolled it all into the cooler.
The CSA members were pouring round, picking up their week's share-- when the boss came to ask a special favor. His wife and daughter had just pulled in after a three day road trip (coming home after college graduation), and the daughter's car was stuffed full with her stuff-- he asked me and NYU to go unload it for them. Sure why not.
I'd never been further into the boss's house than the kitchen, but this time we got a full tour in between lugging boxes and furniture. NYU and I stared at a wedding photo on the wall-- the boss 40 years ago, long hair down his shoulders and one mean handle-bar mustache. The professor (the boss's wife) said they had terrible weather on the drive-- they stopped one night rather than be swept off the road in a flood. It looked like the boss was in the middle of major renovations-- we packed all the stuff in a stripped master bathroom. Despite all the unloading, I still haven't so much as met the boss's daughter-- though the professor thanked us over and over. Walking back to the farm, NYU and I had a few laughs-- this job...
Time was slipping by this afternoon, but one big task remained. While we were busy unloading, the foreman had cut a thousand or so lengths of string-- it was time to tie up those cherry tomatoes. We each took a few hundred lengths of string around our necks and marched through the tomato field. The foreman explained the business-- tie a knot around the plant's base (needs to be a little loose, as the plant's stem will grow as the season progresses), carefully spiral the rope through the tomato branches (hefting it up, but not too taunt that parts of the fragile plant snap off) and then tie the rope onto the line of wire running along the trellises with a slip knot (the knot allows quick untying for readjustments). We knelt down and got to it. Bah, Old Rudolpho and the latter's grandson Jay-jay , joined in the marathon stringing.
By the day's end we had several hundred plants strung and 4-5 rows completely finished (17 rows to go).
On the way out I picked up a bunch of stuff to bring Darlin in the city. Got some strawberry jam, lettuce, chard, and bok choi. The beekeeper finally came by and bottled up the first honey run of the season-- grabbed a jar of that for Darlin. Just as I was about to leave the boss stopped me.
2 things I don't like much-- complaining (as Perkins sings best: don't tell me your troubles, I've enough of my own, just thank god you're livin', drink up and go home) and bragging. I don't mean to be doing the second one, but: the boss gave me the week's paycheck, then gave me a pat on the stomach with the flat side of the butcher knife he was holding, he said-- I wanted to tell you, I'm damn proud of the work your doing. You like what you do, and you got a knack for it-- really shows. Take it easy this weekend.
I'm damn proud that the things I do can make a tough old man say stuff like that. I nearly forgot all about the late paycheck... almost.
Riding to the city on a bus right now-- typing in the dark. What a wet week. Happy to be dry and on this bus thinkin.
See ya on monday and take it easy.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Mud in the Raspberries
More rain last night. The morning started wet and misty, then at noon it rained steady through. The temperature floated in the upper 60Fs and lower 70Fs.
Last night I went crazy drying out my boots. I took out the sopping inserts-- blow dried the insides a bit then stuffed 'em with newspaper. By midnight the leather and the insides were completely dry, so I swept off the dried dirt, then applied leather moisturizer and another layer of water-proofing.
A day starts right with dry boots. NYU met me by the greenhouse, we hopped into the wagon and the foreman drove us down to the far side of the lower fields. Nearly a month ago we covered up the cauliflower and broccoli beds after vermin ate 1/3 in a single night-- now it was time to remove the field cloth. We tugged out the stakes with crowbars (and a nasty tool of our own creation-- the hoes have seen so much work that the blades have started to break off, leaving an iron hook at the pole's end). We uncovered the rows and rolled up the cloth, tossing them into the wagon for later. The boss rolled up in the van and things started to get interesting.
Lucy the dog, as I've mentioned before, is a sociopath of an animal-- but sometimes that's what you need, a sociopath. The boss brought a shovel and told us each to take up a broken hoe/hook pole. In a plastic bag he had five or six phosphorus bombs-- the vermin's day of reckoning had finally arrived. Lucy sniffed out a large complex of burrows at the woods edge, buried among the slabs of the stone wall. We cut out large circles of sod and put one next to each hole. With Lucy barking and jumping circles, we plugged up several holes as the boss sliced each bomb's end and stuffed in the fuse. I gave him my lighter and the business began-- bomb goes in one end, then block up the entrance with the sod. Thick phosphorus smoke pumped from the bombs and smoked out of the holes. At a distance we stood with the pole hooks-- NYU had a momentary stop, he realized what the hooks were for.
Fortunately, Lucy is a lot faster than any of us. We put away our hooks and rode the wagon up to the forest field. We unrolled the field covers from the broccoli and cauliflower to protect the zucchini, summer squash and patty pan. Half way through unrolling, without even pounding in the stakes, the boss returned with more bombs. I followed Lucy around the wood's edge, where the foreman saw woodchucks run last week, and found another two burrows. This time it was just me and the boss. Stooped in the brush, I cut rounds of sod as he prepped the fuses. In went the bombs and on with the sod. No hooks or sign of the woodchucks this time. NYU was still horrified with the whole notion of the hooks, he wondered-- what if we'd caught one? What would we even do with it? None of the answers were very pleasant. We finished covering the long beds and staked them solid into place.
At the store we loaded trellis posts, the maul and pry bar into the wagon-- back out to the lower fields. The first raspberries have started to turn (we sampled many) and the canes have become so heavy with developing berries that the trellis lines have sagged into the mud. Our plan was to pound in extra posts at the problem spots to sure up some of the weight. We got the posts' positions laid out when lunch time came.
After lunch the rain came down. Viking, NYU and I met for our post meal chat. NYU wandered off to call his girlfriend, so Viking and I talked a long time about South America, Brazil, tropic farming, plants and their affects on people's heads. Easy came in and started setting up for the CSA. Bah and Old Rudolpho cut a big round of spinach, but the boss was worried it wouldn't be enough to last the whole 3 days of CSA food pick up. So he made a quick trip to a friend's farm several towns over and bought 10 extra crates of spinach. NYU and I set up a market tent by the greenhouse and bunched up all the spinach-- our stuff picked today and the friend's farm stuff. There were 20 crates total. The foreman came to help, plugging his Ipod into the nearby tractor and blasted some Fela Kuti for us.
The CSA customers poured in right on time. I took down the market tent and cleaned up the yard/greenhouse with NYU. Back to real work-- the foreman drove us back out to the raspberry field. NYU dug out the holes then held the posts as I pounded them into place. We readjusted the lines and carefully hung the canes back along the wire. We collected our tools and the left over posts, then joined up with the foreman in the field. The 5 rows of desolate raspberries had been over grown with weeds (these are the rows the boss planted in a failed attempt to revitalize this patch of soil).
Things got hazy at this point-- the rain picked up into a single heavy sheet. I entered a weed trance and pulled fist full after fist full, for a very long time. Our biggest concern was a white flowered weed with bulbous stems-- they'd swarmed over the tractor roads and spotty lines of raspberries. Had to be careful not to pull the raspberry canes with the weeds, but it wasn't a problem-- with its barbs, you know when you've accidentally grabbed a cane. We finished all 5 rows and cleared the tractor roads.
NYU brought our water up and we started to head back, when off in the distance we saw the was van stuck, sinking into the mud. NYU and I ran over expecting the boss, but Bah was behind the wheel. The van was getting mired quickly, so we gave a solid heave-ho. It took many heaves, but Bah drove out and started down the field line. The weather was getting bad, so Bah stopped the van periodically along the field's edge and we loaded in buckets full of the peas he and Old Rudolpho picked.
Again, Bah and Old Rudolpho told the boss-- Going Home. Again he nodded and said the same went for us-- fill out for a full day's work and get outta here boys. I didn't have the car today, so I called my brother for a lift. While waiting, I made myself useful helping Easy restock the produce carts. I chatted around with Viking and Jockey until my brother arrived-- another (shortish) day.
Asides:
I'm gonna have to go through the boot repair/drying process again tonight.
Looks like my brother might be interested in some work at the farm. I don't have any pull-- all the same, I want to talk to him before he goes to the boss. I don't think the boss is looking for more summer help, but he's always willing to take on someone who wants to learn the farming ropes. My brother and I worked some long hours together on a few terrible landscaping jobs before I joined up on the farm-- he's definitely got the grit. If he has the will, then damn, I'd be happy as pie working next to him all season long. Can't think of too much better than slogging through beside your brother.
But we'll see. Don't want to get ahead of myself and disappointed.
They're calling for more rain tomorrow and then I'm busing off to the city for the weekend. I'll figure out a post.
Stay dry.
Last night I went crazy drying out my boots. I took out the sopping inserts-- blow dried the insides a bit then stuffed 'em with newspaper. By midnight the leather and the insides were completely dry, so I swept off the dried dirt, then applied leather moisturizer and another layer of water-proofing.
A day starts right with dry boots. NYU met me by the greenhouse, we hopped into the wagon and the foreman drove us down to the far side of the lower fields. Nearly a month ago we covered up the cauliflower and broccoli beds after vermin ate 1/3 in a single night-- now it was time to remove the field cloth. We tugged out the stakes with crowbars (and a nasty tool of our own creation-- the hoes have seen so much work that the blades have started to break off, leaving an iron hook at the pole's end). We uncovered the rows and rolled up the cloth, tossing them into the wagon for later. The boss rolled up in the van and things started to get interesting.
Lucy the dog, as I've mentioned before, is a sociopath of an animal-- but sometimes that's what you need, a sociopath. The boss brought a shovel and told us each to take up a broken hoe/hook pole. In a plastic bag he had five or six phosphorus bombs-- the vermin's day of reckoning had finally arrived. Lucy sniffed out a large complex of burrows at the woods edge, buried among the slabs of the stone wall. We cut out large circles of sod and put one next to each hole. With Lucy barking and jumping circles, we plugged up several holes as the boss sliced each bomb's end and stuffed in the fuse. I gave him my lighter and the business began-- bomb goes in one end, then block up the entrance with the sod. Thick phosphorus smoke pumped from the bombs and smoked out of the holes. At a distance we stood with the pole hooks-- NYU had a momentary stop, he realized what the hooks were for.
Fortunately, Lucy is a lot faster than any of us. We put away our hooks and rode the wagon up to the forest field. We unrolled the field covers from the broccoli and cauliflower to protect the zucchini, summer squash and patty pan. Half way through unrolling, without even pounding in the stakes, the boss returned with more bombs. I followed Lucy around the wood's edge, where the foreman saw woodchucks run last week, and found another two burrows. This time it was just me and the boss. Stooped in the brush, I cut rounds of sod as he prepped the fuses. In went the bombs and on with the sod. No hooks or sign of the woodchucks this time. NYU was still horrified with the whole notion of the hooks, he wondered-- what if we'd caught one? What would we even do with it? None of the answers were very pleasant. We finished covering the long beds and staked them solid into place.
At the store we loaded trellis posts, the maul and pry bar into the wagon-- back out to the lower fields. The first raspberries have started to turn (we sampled many) and the canes have become so heavy with developing berries that the trellis lines have sagged into the mud. Our plan was to pound in extra posts at the problem spots to sure up some of the weight. We got the posts' positions laid out when lunch time came.
After lunch the rain came down. Viking, NYU and I met for our post meal chat. NYU wandered off to call his girlfriend, so Viking and I talked a long time about South America, Brazil, tropic farming, plants and their affects on people's heads. Easy came in and started setting up for the CSA. Bah and Old Rudolpho cut a big round of spinach, but the boss was worried it wouldn't be enough to last the whole 3 days of CSA food pick up. So he made a quick trip to a friend's farm several towns over and bought 10 extra crates of spinach. NYU and I set up a market tent by the greenhouse and bunched up all the spinach-- our stuff picked today and the friend's farm stuff. There were 20 crates total. The foreman came to help, plugging his Ipod into the nearby tractor and blasted some Fela Kuti for us.
The CSA customers poured in right on time. I took down the market tent and cleaned up the yard/greenhouse with NYU. Back to real work-- the foreman drove us back out to the raspberry field. NYU dug out the holes then held the posts as I pounded them into place. We readjusted the lines and carefully hung the canes back along the wire. We collected our tools and the left over posts, then joined up with the foreman in the field. The 5 rows of desolate raspberries had been over grown with weeds (these are the rows the boss planted in a failed attempt to revitalize this patch of soil).
Things got hazy at this point-- the rain picked up into a single heavy sheet. I entered a weed trance and pulled fist full after fist full, for a very long time. Our biggest concern was a white flowered weed with bulbous stems-- they'd swarmed over the tractor roads and spotty lines of raspberries. Had to be careful not to pull the raspberry canes with the weeds, but it wasn't a problem-- with its barbs, you know when you've accidentally grabbed a cane. We finished all 5 rows and cleared the tractor roads.
NYU brought our water up and we started to head back, when off in the distance we saw the was van stuck, sinking into the mud. NYU and I ran over expecting the boss, but Bah was behind the wheel. The van was getting mired quickly, so we gave a solid heave-ho. It took many heaves, but Bah drove out and started down the field line. The weather was getting bad, so Bah stopped the van periodically along the field's edge and we loaded in buckets full of the peas he and Old Rudolpho picked.
Again, Bah and Old Rudolpho told the boss-- Going Home. Again he nodded and said the same went for us-- fill out for a full day's work and get outta here boys. I didn't have the car today, so I called my brother for a lift. While waiting, I made myself useful helping Easy restock the produce carts. I chatted around with Viking and Jockey until my brother arrived-- another (shortish) day.
Asides:
I'm gonna have to go through the boot repair/drying process again tonight.
Looks like my brother might be interested in some work at the farm. I don't have any pull-- all the same, I want to talk to him before he goes to the boss. I don't think the boss is looking for more summer help, but he's always willing to take on someone who wants to learn the farming ropes. My brother and I worked some long hours together on a few terrible landscaping jobs before I joined up on the farm-- he's definitely got the grit. If he has the will, then damn, I'd be happy as pie working next to him all season long. Can't think of too much better than slogging through beside your brother.
But we'll see. Don't want to get ahead of myself and disappointed.
They're calling for more rain tomorrow and then I'm busing off to the city for the weekend. I'll figure out a post.
Stay dry.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Wet Day
Hard, steady rain today-- mist and fog came with an early afternoon lull, then rain returned. Temperature held at a steady 68F.
Put my rain slick on in the car, tightened my boots, then went to meet the boss. He had the old tractor hitched up to the wagon-- today was pick day, and rain wasn't gonna stop him. NYU helped me pile the pick crates high-- 90 or so bushel crates fit snug. Bah and Old Rudolpho joined us: we sharpened up the knives, grabbed a bag of elastic bands and we climbed into the wagon. The rain was coming heavy as we rolled down to the lower fields.
First we cut 8 cases worth of bok choi, both Mei Qing variety and the boss's favorite Black Summer (25-40 choi bunches fit in each crate). Next, NYU and I started on the long Swiss Chard row-- picked it all, filling 13 crates (15-25 bunches per crate). Stubborn pick-your-own families crowded into the strawberry field for a half-hour, despite the rain-- but as the wind kicked up and it turned heavier, they all ran for the store. Discussion didn't extend beyond-- how many crates left? For a brief moment in time NYU became the defacto translator-- he's studied spanish for years in high school and college. Unfortunately Old Rudolpho can't understand a word of what he translates-- so it was back to gestures and 'quatro cento mas' or 'no mas.' We finished the chard and it was on to the lettuce-- the boss wanted 400 heads or ~35 crates full (25 romaine, 10 loose leaf). Lettuce cuts quick, we stacked the wagon high with full crates then stomped in for lunch.
Viking, NYU and I met under the awning after lunch. Viking is committed to farming land of her own with her husband one day-- so she wants to learn every angle. From Viking's first day, she's always been real irritated by the unspoken rule-- no women in the field (addendum: no white women, Old Rudolpho's daughter-in-laws and Bah's wife join the crew in late summer). But on days like today, Viking laughs-- 'I guess there are perks to being stuck in the store.' NYU threw a little mutiny-- when it came time to march off and cut broccoli rabe, he refused. He sat under the awning and said good luck.
Bah, Old Rudolpho and I cut 100 bunches of rabe-- we packed 4 crates real tight. The boss was happy-- most of the greens for the CSA tomorrow were out of the fields. Back at the farm store, NYU had set up a market tent over the new cemented sink and had started washing the day's pick. Bah and Old Rudolpho took up their 5 gallon buckets and headed out to pick more snap peas-- I unloaded the wagon. The rain died down for a time, and the mists rolled out from the woods and off the hills. NYU had finished a tower of romaine crates, so I carted them into the cooler with a dolly-- then I took my place at the wash station.
All the field sinks are still hose fed, so I whipped up a wire contraption to hold the hose in place. We washed: the rest of the romaine, the loose leaf, the chard, the broccoli rabe and the bok choi. Rhode Island ran out to the store this morning and got new sink plugs-- so despite the rain, washing was a dryer time than usual. Chatted with NYU as we washed-- 6 packs were in order after today we decided. We avoided any mention of going home-- hope would only bring us down further. Jockey was in the kitchen baking pies and pickling-- he waved us into the cooler and we sampled some of his pickled garlic and cucumbers. Everything tasted good: cukes needed more time to sit, but the garlic was tender and delicious. Back to washing.
As NYU finished the last crates of choi, I organized the cooler-- things get chaotic quick, so I spaced everything out (as much as possible) and piled the crates to the ceiling. As an old guy who ran a general store in town used to say-- stack 'em high and watch 'em fly. Easy is supposed to run the CSA tomorrow, so we made him an inventory list and marked the crate towers. The cooler looks good filled.
The sky let loose again, harder and just as steady. NYU and I took down his wash tent and cleaned out beneath the awning. Bah and Old Rudolpho came back from the field just as the boss rolled up in the van-- they left their buckets and said Going Home. And the boss agreed, everything we could do was already done. That meant us too. The boss said-- good job boys, fill out your time cards for a full day and get outta here. The foreman was down in the greenhouse fiddling away at something-- waved our see ya laters and sloshed out.
NYU's ride was hours away, so I gave him a lift home. Now I'm dry and got my 6 pack, feels pretty good.
Rest of the week is supposed to be pretty wet, but we'll see tomorrow.
On with the rain.
Put my rain slick on in the car, tightened my boots, then went to meet the boss. He had the old tractor hitched up to the wagon-- today was pick day, and rain wasn't gonna stop him. NYU helped me pile the pick crates high-- 90 or so bushel crates fit snug. Bah and Old Rudolpho joined us: we sharpened up the knives, grabbed a bag of elastic bands and we climbed into the wagon. The rain was coming heavy as we rolled down to the lower fields.
First we cut 8 cases worth of bok choi, both Mei Qing variety and the boss's favorite Black Summer (25-40 choi bunches fit in each crate). Next, NYU and I started on the long Swiss Chard row-- picked it all, filling 13 crates (15-25 bunches per crate). Stubborn pick-your-own families crowded into the strawberry field for a half-hour, despite the rain-- but as the wind kicked up and it turned heavier, they all ran for the store. Discussion didn't extend beyond-- how many crates left? For a brief moment in time NYU became the defacto translator-- he's studied spanish for years in high school and college. Unfortunately Old Rudolpho can't understand a word of what he translates-- so it was back to gestures and 'quatro cento mas' or 'no mas.' We finished the chard and it was on to the lettuce-- the boss wanted 400 heads or ~35 crates full (25 romaine, 10 loose leaf). Lettuce cuts quick, we stacked the wagon high with full crates then stomped in for lunch.
Viking, NYU and I met under the awning after lunch. Viking is committed to farming land of her own with her husband one day-- so she wants to learn every angle. From Viking's first day, she's always been real irritated by the unspoken rule-- no women in the field (addendum: no white women, Old Rudolpho's daughter-in-laws and Bah's wife join the crew in late summer). But on days like today, Viking laughs-- 'I guess there are perks to being stuck in the store.' NYU threw a little mutiny-- when it came time to march off and cut broccoli rabe, he refused. He sat under the awning and said good luck.
Bah, Old Rudolpho and I cut 100 bunches of rabe-- we packed 4 crates real tight. The boss was happy-- most of the greens for the CSA tomorrow were out of the fields. Back at the farm store, NYU had set up a market tent over the new cemented sink and had started washing the day's pick. Bah and Old Rudolpho took up their 5 gallon buckets and headed out to pick more snap peas-- I unloaded the wagon. The rain died down for a time, and the mists rolled out from the woods and off the hills. NYU had finished a tower of romaine crates, so I carted them into the cooler with a dolly-- then I took my place at the wash station.
All the field sinks are still hose fed, so I whipped up a wire contraption to hold the hose in place. We washed: the rest of the romaine, the loose leaf, the chard, the broccoli rabe and the bok choi. Rhode Island ran out to the store this morning and got new sink plugs-- so despite the rain, washing was a dryer time than usual. Chatted with NYU as we washed-- 6 packs were in order after today we decided. We avoided any mention of going home-- hope would only bring us down further. Jockey was in the kitchen baking pies and pickling-- he waved us into the cooler and we sampled some of his pickled garlic and cucumbers. Everything tasted good: cukes needed more time to sit, but the garlic was tender and delicious. Back to washing.
As NYU finished the last crates of choi, I organized the cooler-- things get chaotic quick, so I spaced everything out (as much as possible) and piled the crates to the ceiling. As an old guy who ran a general store in town used to say-- stack 'em high and watch 'em fly. Easy is supposed to run the CSA tomorrow, so we made him an inventory list and marked the crate towers. The cooler looks good filled.
The sky let loose again, harder and just as steady. NYU and I took down his wash tent and cleaned out beneath the awning. Bah and Old Rudolpho came back from the field just as the boss rolled up in the van-- they left their buckets and said Going Home. And the boss agreed, everything we could do was already done. That meant us too. The boss said-- good job boys, fill out your time cards for a full day and get outta here. The foreman was down in the greenhouse fiddling away at something-- waved our see ya laters and sloshed out.
NYU's ride was hours away, so I gave him a lift home. Now I'm dry and got my 6 pack, feels pretty good.
Rest of the week is supposed to be pretty wet, but we'll see tomorrow.
On with the rain.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
In It Thick
Today was the summer solstice, time sure flies-- six months ago I was wasting through winter, waiting for these days.
Full sun all day through. The temperature climbed up into the mid 80Fs-- but up in the hilltop fields this afternoon, something in the air changed and real heavy heat boiled through.
Ran straight to the greenhouse this morning. NYU was in today-- he's taking three day weekends now, trying to get in quality time with his girl friend before he ships overseas this fall. Fired up the trimmer and leveled the spearmint patch and weeds lining the garden/stone horse wall. The boss rolled up in the van as I dumped all the clippings behind the greenhouse. I piled up some crates and long knives, then the boss walked with me and NYU down to the lettuce in the lower fields. We cut a crate each of loose leaf and romaine-- this lettuce is getting big. Last week we packed 18 heads into a crate, now its 10-12 heads. Back at the farm store, we washed the dirt from the greens and set it up in the cooler to chill.
From the store I could see Bah and Old Rudolpho stringing wire along the trellises for the cherry tomatoes-- but it was time to get working. NYU and I grabbed our hoes and headed up to the hilltop. Somewhere in the past weeks the foreman found time to cut and plant a new field's worth of spinach, bok choi, beets, arugul, dill (which never germinated) and some mystery greens. This field is near the peach orchard, sandwiched between a raspberry field, the strawberries and a stone wall. For a decade the boss used the space for several big compost heaps, but last year he mixed and planted the field for the first time (the ornamental broom-corn he planted was a pretty safe bet). NYU and I hacked through the young weeds quickly, the soil was perfect-- the roots nearly fell out on their own.
Felt a bit ill all morning, I finally took the time to hike deep into the woods and worked out my problems. Then back to swinging. The foreman had the new tractor up in the orchard with the rotor blade attachment. The trees are decently spaced, so he had no trouble mowing down the 3ft grass. Just before lunch, the foreman finished cutting and we reconnected the galvanized steel irrigation artery running along the orchard.
After lunch the boss was out for a while, so NYU and I took our time getting back up the hill. We set up a table underneath the store's back awning and chatted with the gang. Viking has been spending her off days turning around her mother-in-law's land-- a tough plot from the sound of it. Somehow she also finds the time to build and paint all these wild sculptures she described to us. A friend has an enormous tract of land way, way up north and late this summer they're throwing a big music festival-- so Viking and her husband (a musician) have been hard at work with all the preparations. Jockey listened quietly to her stories, but then decided to air how pointless and foolish the whole thing sounded to him. I thought NYU and Mouse were gonna flay the kid alive-- fortunately the foreman arrived at that moment, and broke the tension with some hysterical anecdotes about the crack-addict living under his girlfriend's apartment stairs.
I saw Bah and Old Rudolpho headed back to stringing tomato trellises- so I grabbed a shovel, shoved NYU and we went up hill. On the way, NYU went on about how much Viking was growing on him (her intensity freaked him out at first) and how much he hated Jockey. I said-- man, he's a lot younger than you or I, he hasn't left home yet, he's naive and he's cocky-- give him a chance to get out first, then decide if you hate him. But NYU didn't listen and complained all the way to the field.
While NYU finished hoeing out the last spinach bed and started on the beets, I took up the shovel and started tearing out the cockelburough weeds that had grown thick around the irrigation artery. I sliced through each root bulb, tore off the towers of leaves and scraped right down to the soil. Hoe back in hand, I picked up with NYU on the beet bed. Next came the bok choi-- unlike the earlier rounds we started in the greenhouse, the foreman dropped these seeds straight into the ground. Summer must be here, the bok choi was growing bright and dandy. Around this point NYU started seeing things and his vision got hazy-- too much sun, not enough water. He set himself in the shade by a rock for a long water break, and I finished up the bok choi and arugula. NYU was feeling good soon enough, and we polished off the mystery greens-- neither of us could figure out what type of plant it was.
Our canteens had long since run dry, but I wasn't about to hike down hill then back up again-- so we pushed on and connected the strawberry drip lines to the artery, then ran a line of water guns through our weeded field. Steel gets awfully hot after a day in the sun. I checked over the lines and artery, then we headed down. We stood in the air conditioned kitchen a long time drinking from the tap. Across the kitchen, Jockey shook his head.
There might be rain tomorrow but if not, the fields will really need some water. NYU and I ran a water line down through the tomatoes and hooked up the water guns. While NYU went for more water, I chased down the boss's tractor in the lower fields. He wanted to have the pump and irrigation all set to go for tomorrow-- but wasn't quite ready yet. So I hustled back to the store and got NYU, we started weeding the cantaloupe rows next to the tomatoes. Plucking weeds out of the small holes in the plastic was extremely slow going-- we finished 2 and a half rows just before the day's end. I helped the boss unhitch the sprayer attachment, and we rolled the tractor down to the horse pond. We connected everything up fine, then switched the artery pipes attached to the water pump-- the pump only has so much pressure, and can't handle watering more than one or two major fields at a time (the lower fields + tomatoes or the forest fields or the hill top fields). We hooked up the hill top artery.
I stayed a little late-- fired up the trimmer again and cut back the field encroaching around the greenhouse.
Before I left, Jockey proudly showed me the cookies he baked-- he said Mouse was doing it all wrong, leaving them in the oven too long and spoiling what moisture they might have had. He explained how food continues to cook a brief while after you take it out of the oven and how he uses this in recipies, then gave me cookies to sample. He isn't a bad guy, by any stretch.
I gave Viking a hawk feather and some long turkey feathers that I found on the hill top-- signed out and called it.
I'm headed down to the city this weekend-- but either this week or next, pictures are coming.
On a related note: Darlin is planning on some back-to-back visits up here-- and might shoot some more pictures around the farm. I'm excited and her photos always come out good, so there ya go.
Take it easy-- here's to more sun.
Full sun all day through. The temperature climbed up into the mid 80Fs-- but up in the hilltop fields this afternoon, something in the air changed and real heavy heat boiled through.
Ran straight to the greenhouse this morning. NYU was in today-- he's taking three day weekends now, trying to get in quality time with his girl friend before he ships overseas this fall. Fired up the trimmer and leveled the spearmint patch and weeds lining the garden/stone horse wall. The boss rolled up in the van as I dumped all the clippings behind the greenhouse. I piled up some crates and long knives, then the boss walked with me and NYU down to the lettuce in the lower fields. We cut a crate each of loose leaf and romaine-- this lettuce is getting big. Last week we packed 18 heads into a crate, now its 10-12 heads. Back at the farm store, we washed the dirt from the greens and set it up in the cooler to chill.
From the store I could see Bah and Old Rudolpho stringing wire along the trellises for the cherry tomatoes-- but it was time to get working. NYU and I grabbed our hoes and headed up to the hilltop. Somewhere in the past weeks the foreman found time to cut and plant a new field's worth of spinach, bok choi, beets, arugul, dill (which never germinated) and some mystery greens. This field is near the peach orchard, sandwiched between a raspberry field, the strawberries and a stone wall. For a decade the boss used the space for several big compost heaps, but last year he mixed and planted the field for the first time (the ornamental broom-corn he planted was a pretty safe bet). NYU and I hacked through the young weeds quickly, the soil was perfect-- the roots nearly fell out on their own.
Felt a bit ill all morning, I finally took the time to hike deep into the woods and worked out my problems. Then back to swinging. The foreman had the new tractor up in the orchard with the rotor blade attachment. The trees are decently spaced, so he had no trouble mowing down the 3ft grass. Just before lunch, the foreman finished cutting and we reconnected the galvanized steel irrigation artery running along the orchard.
After lunch the boss was out for a while, so NYU and I took our time getting back up the hill. We set up a table underneath the store's back awning and chatted with the gang. Viking has been spending her off days turning around her mother-in-law's land-- a tough plot from the sound of it. Somehow she also finds the time to build and paint all these wild sculptures she described to us. A friend has an enormous tract of land way, way up north and late this summer they're throwing a big music festival-- so Viking and her husband (a musician) have been hard at work with all the preparations. Jockey listened quietly to her stories, but then decided to air how pointless and foolish the whole thing sounded to him. I thought NYU and Mouse were gonna flay the kid alive-- fortunately the foreman arrived at that moment, and broke the tension with some hysterical anecdotes about the crack-addict living under his girlfriend's apartment stairs.
I saw Bah and Old Rudolpho headed back to stringing tomato trellises- so I grabbed a shovel, shoved NYU and we went up hill. On the way, NYU went on about how much Viking was growing on him (her intensity freaked him out at first) and how much he hated Jockey. I said-- man, he's a lot younger than you or I, he hasn't left home yet, he's naive and he's cocky-- give him a chance to get out first, then decide if you hate him. But NYU didn't listen and complained all the way to the field.
While NYU finished hoeing out the last spinach bed and started on the beets, I took up the shovel and started tearing out the cockelburough weeds that had grown thick around the irrigation artery. I sliced through each root bulb, tore off the towers of leaves and scraped right down to the soil. Hoe back in hand, I picked up with NYU on the beet bed. Next came the bok choi-- unlike the earlier rounds we started in the greenhouse, the foreman dropped these seeds straight into the ground. Summer must be here, the bok choi was growing bright and dandy. Around this point NYU started seeing things and his vision got hazy-- too much sun, not enough water. He set himself in the shade by a rock for a long water break, and I finished up the bok choi and arugula. NYU was feeling good soon enough, and we polished off the mystery greens-- neither of us could figure out what type of plant it was.
Our canteens had long since run dry, but I wasn't about to hike down hill then back up again-- so we pushed on and connected the strawberry drip lines to the artery, then ran a line of water guns through our weeded field. Steel gets awfully hot after a day in the sun. I checked over the lines and artery, then we headed down. We stood in the air conditioned kitchen a long time drinking from the tap. Across the kitchen, Jockey shook his head.
There might be rain tomorrow but if not, the fields will really need some water. NYU and I ran a water line down through the tomatoes and hooked up the water guns. While NYU went for more water, I chased down the boss's tractor in the lower fields. He wanted to have the pump and irrigation all set to go for tomorrow-- but wasn't quite ready yet. So I hustled back to the store and got NYU, we started weeding the cantaloupe rows next to the tomatoes. Plucking weeds out of the small holes in the plastic was extremely slow going-- we finished 2 and a half rows just before the day's end. I helped the boss unhitch the sprayer attachment, and we rolled the tractor down to the horse pond. We connected everything up fine, then switched the artery pipes attached to the water pump-- the pump only has so much pressure, and can't handle watering more than one or two major fields at a time (the lower fields + tomatoes or the forest fields or the hill top fields). We hooked up the hill top artery.
I stayed a little late-- fired up the trimmer again and cut back the field encroaching around the greenhouse.
Before I left, Jockey proudly showed me the cookies he baked-- he said Mouse was doing it all wrong, leaving them in the oven too long and spoiling what moisture they might have had. He explained how food continues to cook a brief while after you take it out of the oven and how he uses this in recipies, then gave me cookies to sample. He isn't a bad guy, by any stretch.
I gave Viking a hawk feather and some long turkey feathers that I found on the hill top-- signed out and called it.
I'm headed down to the city this weekend-- but either this week or next, pictures are coming.
On a related note: Darlin is planning on some back-to-back visits up here-- and might shoot some more pictures around the farm. I'm excited and her photos always come out good, so there ya go.
Take it easy-- here's to more sun.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Right Hand
Sunny all day through. Temperature stayed in the mid 70Fs.
Walked into the farm store and got right to work this morning. Lettuce needed to be seeded-- 4 trays of loose leaf, 4 trays of romaine (little over a 1000 plants of each). I setup the trays on a plywood board on some saw-horses down in the greenhouse, and got to droppin' seed. The boss swung through in a rush-- he was headed out west-state to pick up some seed and clear a few health certifications in several farmer market towns (gotta have the paperwork if you wanna sell the jam). Before leaving he rattled off a list of things to get done-- wrote 'em all down on a piece of cardboard.
I covered the lettuce trays over with a quarter inch worth of soil and soaked them all through. Next up. I laid out 18 trays, filled 'em with soil, soaked and let them sit-- ready for brussel sprout and cabbage seeding. Rhode Island and Mouse were holding down the store-- as its one of Viking's few days off. NYU didn't show up today, not sure if he has a new work schedule.
The towers of empty pick crates are starting to rise behind the farm store-- last year, deep into the season, it looked like a lobster boat on the way out to sea. I grabbed a bushel crate and the sharpest long-knife I could find-- out to the lower fields.
Bah and Old Rudolpho were out with big white buckets picking snap peas-- they had six buckets full by mid-morning. I hustled down the overgrown-weed row, cutting half a bushel of spinach and half a bushel of broccoli rabe (this stuff was headed for the farm store shelves, still a little early in the week to start CSA picking). As I finished up my last few bunches, Old Rudolpho gave out the lunch time yell and headed in. Carried my crate back to the farm store, hosed off the catch and left it to chill in the cooler-- lunch time.
The boss still wasn't back by the time I got off lunch. Onward checklist. I towered up the 18 trays for brussel sprouts and cabbage, and carried them up to the farm store. Jockey arrived, I set him and Rhode Island seeding the trays. A few weeks ago, Rhode Island did a spectacularly shoddy job at seeding a lettuce tray-- 0 seeds in some soil plugs, and 5 seeds packed into others. It goes: 1 seed, 1 plug-- otherwise, instead of one usable plant, you get multiple stunted wastes bound for the compost pile. I brought the problem lettuce tray up for Jockey to sort out.
Next on the list (last thing), I had to trim where the stone horse wall meets the garden-- around the mound of spearmint. I headed down to the workshop to find the trimmer and bumped into the boss's brother. He had found an enormous straw sun hat in his closet, and was embarrassed to be caught wearing it. Chatted with him a while-- he's preparing several stretches of unused pasture to grow feed corn, so he doesn't have to ship in food for the herd over winter. Wrestled around with his pack of Labradors, then found the trimmer-- unfortunately it didn't work.
I took the machine up under the store awning and really laid into it-- the engine just wouldn't catch. Figured it had to be a spark-plug issue, so I pulled it apart and sure enough the plug was burned out-- nothing to do but wait for the boss.
It wasn't long until the van rolled up-- I hopped in, told the boss about the plug and we sped off to the last landscaping job of spring. The boss was in a great mood, so we joked around as I dug up bushes and transplanted them around the yard. We moved a bunch of day-lilies and cleared out all the garden weeds. The boss left me at the job while he went to pick up the trimmer, spark plugs and a few tanks worth of diesel. Without him, I filled in all the holes left by the bushes and cleared a fence of bittersweet and poison ivy vines (goddammit).
The boss took his time getting back, so I wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood. Once he returned we pruned up the bushes and trees, then gathered up all the clippings-- back to the farm. The foreman spent the day wed to the tractor-- pumpkins needed planting: lots of sugar, ornamental and giants. The boss and I headed down to the lower fields, connecting all the irrigation lines NYU and I moved last week. The foreman tilled the spent rows and they're now ready for another planting. Lines all set, I headed with the boss down to the horse pond to get the pump running.
The day's end was so close-- but there was a kink. One of 'the twins' came by to visit-- wading over the horse fence, ankle deep in muck and shit, he was wearing a suit. The boss stopped the tractor pump and sauntered over to talk to the twin, who worked of him 20 years ago in the early 90s-- now the twin is a medical supply salesman. He was a nice fellow. The pump was all connected and ready to go, but I milled around the horse paddock until the boss was ready-- that took a long while. (While I waited, sitting against the tractor wheel smoking, I decided that if I visit the farm 20 years from now wearing a suit and selling medical supplies-- killing myself would be just about the only reasonable choice.)
Finally got the water running, with no further interruptions. Ran to the tomato field and closed the wheel valve leading to the tomato line (they won't need any water for a while still). Down in the lower fields, I cleared a few clogged water gun nozzles with the boss-- then called it a day.
Asides:
A picture day is in order-- over the few weeks since Darlin's photo-visit the fields have simply erupted. Looking at her pictures, its hard to believe they're the same fields. Shots from two weeks ago look like bleak March or April compared to now. Unfortunately, with all the summer help wandering about these days its hard to get the peace and time for a photo adventure-- someone is always at your heels. I'll find a good day, or make one.
Overhearing the boss's conversation with the twin-- he was glowing with pride at all we've accomplished the past few years (and this year in particular). After 39 years of farming, these past 5 or so years he's finally hit the big time. Feels good slogging away on a successful farm-- all the sweat seems worth something.
Take it easy, sunny days are ahead.
Walked into the farm store and got right to work this morning. Lettuce needed to be seeded-- 4 trays of loose leaf, 4 trays of romaine (little over a 1000 plants of each). I setup the trays on a plywood board on some saw-horses down in the greenhouse, and got to droppin' seed. The boss swung through in a rush-- he was headed out west-state to pick up some seed and clear a few health certifications in several farmer market towns (gotta have the paperwork if you wanna sell the jam). Before leaving he rattled off a list of things to get done-- wrote 'em all down on a piece of cardboard.
I covered the lettuce trays over with a quarter inch worth of soil and soaked them all through. Next up. I laid out 18 trays, filled 'em with soil, soaked and let them sit-- ready for brussel sprout and cabbage seeding. Rhode Island and Mouse were holding down the store-- as its one of Viking's few days off. NYU didn't show up today, not sure if he has a new work schedule.
The towers of empty pick crates are starting to rise behind the farm store-- last year, deep into the season, it looked like a lobster boat on the way out to sea. I grabbed a bushel crate and the sharpest long-knife I could find-- out to the lower fields.
Bah and Old Rudolpho were out with big white buckets picking snap peas-- they had six buckets full by mid-morning. I hustled down the overgrown-weed row, cutting half a bushel of spinach and half a bushel of broccoli rabe (this stuff was headed for the farm store shelves, still a little early in the week to start CSA picking). As I finished up my last few bunches, Old Rudolpho gave out the lunch time yell and headed in. Carried my crate back to the farm store, hosed off the catch and left it to chill in the cooler-- lunch time.
The boss still wasn't back by the time I got off lunch. Onward checklist. I towered up the 18 trays for brussel sprouts and cabbage, and carried them up to the farm store. Jockey arrived, I set him and Rhode Island seeding the trays. A few weeks ago, Rhode Island did a spectacularly shoddy job at seeding a lettuce tray-- 0 seeds in some soil plugs, and 5 seeds packed into others. It goes: 1 seed, 1 plug-- otherwise, instead of one usable plant, you get multiple stunted wastes bound for the compost pile. I brought the problem lettuce tray up for Jockey to sort out.
Next on the list (last thing), I had to trim where the stone horse wall meets the garden-- around the mound of spearmint. I headed down to the workshop to find the trimmer and bumped into the boss's brother. He had found an enormous straw sun hat in his closet, and was embarrassed to be caught wearing it. Chatted with him a while-- he's preparing several stretches of unused pasture to grow feed corn, so he doesn't have to ship in food for the herd over winter. Wrestled around with his pack of Labradors, then found the trimmer-- unfortunately it didn't work.
I took the machine up under the store awning and really laid into it-- the engine just wouldn't catch. Figured it had to be a spark-plug issue, so I pulled it apart and sure enough the plug was burned out-- nothing to do but wait for the boss.
It wasn't long until the van rolled up-- I hopped in, told the boss about the plug and we sped off to the last landscaping job of spring. The boss was in a great mood, so we joked around as I dug up bushes and transplanted them around the yard. We moved a bunch of day-lilies and cleared out all the garden weeds. The boss left me at the job while he went to pick up the trimmer, spark plugs and a few tanks worth of diesel. Without him, I filled in all the holes left by the bushes and cleared a fence of bittersweet and poison ivy vines (goddammit).
The boss took his time getting back, so I wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood. Once he returned we pruned up the bushes and trees, then gathered up all the clippings-- back to the farm. The foreman spent the day wed to the tractor-- pumpkins needed planting: lots of sugar, ornamental and giants. The boss and I headed down to the lower fields, connecting all the irrigation lines NYU and I moved last week. The foreman tilled the spent rows and they're now ready for another planting. Lines all set, I headed with the boss down to the horse pond to get the pump running.
The day's end was so close-- but there was a kink. One of 'the twins' came by to visit-- wading over the horse fence, ankle deep in muck and shit, he was wearing a suit. The boss stopped the tractor pump and sauntered over to talk to the twin, who worked of him 20 years ago in the early 90s-- now the twin is a medical supply salesman. He was a nice fellow. The pump was all connected and ready to go, but I milled around the horse paddock until the boss was ready-- that took a long while. (While I waited, sitting against the tractor wheel smoking, I decided that if I visit the farm 20 years from now wearing a suit and selling medical supplies-- killing myself would be just about the only reasonable choice.)
Finally got the water running, with no further interruptions. Ran to the tomato field and closed the wheel valve leading to the tomato line (they won't need any water for a while still). Down in the lower fields, I cleared a few clogged water gun nozzles with the boss-- then called it a day.
Asides:
A picture day is in order-- over the few weeks since Darlin's photo-visit the fields have simply erupted. Looking at her pictures, its hard to believe they're the same fields. Shots from two weeks ago look like bleak March or April compared to now. Unfortunately, with all the summer help wandering about these days its hard to get the peace and time for a photo adventure-- someone is always at your heels. I'll find a good day, or make one.
Overhearing the boss's conversation with the twin-- he was glowing with pride at all we've accomplished the past few years (and this year in particular). After 39 years of farming, these past 5 or so years he's finally hit the big time. Feels good slogging away on a successful farm-- all the sweat seems worth something.
Take it easy, sunny days are ahead.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Let's Go Home
Heavy rain started to fall this morning. It stopped by the early afternoon, but dark clouds drifted over throughout the day. Temperature floated in the low 70Fs.
I was smart to grab my rain slick as I ran out the door. The sky let loose all morning. I hurried to meet NYU beneath the awning-- we bunched up 7 crates worth of loose spinach Bah and Old Rudolpho cut. The foreman was leaving at noon for a family reunion-- he was gung-ho to get the day's work done early. We loaded up the tractor's front loader with basil trays (20 trays, about 50 plants each)-- Bah, Old Rudolpho, NYU and I piled onto the tractor with the foreman, and we drove off for the forest fields.
Up in the woods, the mud was thick and the rain fell steady. Dumping us and the basil, the foreman rolled back to the farm. We planted a double line of basil into one of the plastic wrapped rows from yesterday. NYU was miserable, soaked to the bone-- at least I had my weather jacket. Each step sunk down into a half foot of mud, arms and legs were caked in their entirety. We fantasized about the boss letting us go home early-- we talked through every possible exchange, dreamed of showers and dry clothes. Morale was killed for the day. All the same, NYU and I never transplanted so quickly. Bah and Old Rudolpho slogged along at a faster than usual clip too. Miraculously, we finished all the Basil minutes before lunch.
Right as we stumbled into the farm store, the rain died down and stopped-- no home for us.
After lunch, NYU and I helped Easy setup the CSA produce. We dragged a crate down to the garden and cut a bushel's worth of spearmint-- NYU obsessively watched the sky, pointing out every dark cloud, hoping against hope it would be the weather burst to send us home. Over lunch had I tried to reconcile the day-- I would stay till close no matter what happened, wishing for home would only be torture-- it didn't really work, I was watching clouds right with NYU.
Day old produce, greens in particular, can get limp and sad looking quick-- so we soaked a sink's worth of rabe, spinach, arugula and chard left over from yesterday's CSA (30 mins of soaking brings 'em all back to health). We tried some leaves of the arugula with Easy-- it was actually spicy. The boss said that as it fully matures, the stems in particular take on a strange hot 'n spiciness. After seeing to the first CSA customers, Easy told stories from his hard days in the field-- stories that neither (exhausted) NYU nor I cared to hear. The boss swung round in the van, I hopped into the back with NYU, and we went to cut 3 crates worth of romaine from the lower fields.
The boss didn't seem to notice our sad state. After rinsing and chilling the lettuce, he pulled NYU and I onto the tractor wagon-- back to the forest field. Bah and Old Rudolpho had just about finished cutting holes in the 3 empty plastic wrapped rows, dibbling 1in holes in each. The boss dropped off 900 eggplant sproutlings and quickly sprayed the dibble holes with a pesticide to keep the Colorado Potato beetles at bay (they go nuts over eggplant). The trowels we use for transplanting were entirely encapsulated in mud from the basil-- after breaking them free we went to work.
I recovered my head over the course of sinking in the eggplant. We planted 250 fairytale eggplants (small purple and white striped, firm and great to eat anyway you like) and 600 oriental eggplant of 3-4 different sub-varieties (oriental eggplant grows long and thin, doesn't have too many seeds but definitely needs some good recipe).
I went on a pee-adventure. It's pretty standard field practice, when your a 15-20 minute walk from the farm-- just piss at the field's edge. But I went into the woods, deep in. Wandered down a hill to the stream's head waters and up to the back woods plateau-- definitely need to be careful where you do your business, don't want to contaminate the water supply.
We finished up all the wrapped rows, with maybe 150 eggplants remaining. It was near closing and NYU wasted no time flying the coup. I kicked around the CSA, chatting with the boss. My parents are CSA members, and they came to pick up their share. I gave them a brief (and distant) tour of the tomato fields, and helped them pick out some good greens/berries. Signed out, and finally got home.
One day's sleep is all I need.
Take it easy.
I was smart to grab my rain slick as I ran out the door. The sky let loose all morning. I hurried to meet NYU beneath the awning-- we bunched up 7 crates worth of loose spinach Bah and Old Rudolpho cut. The foreman was leaving at noon for a family reunion-- he was gung-ho to get the day's work done early. We loaded up the tractor's front loader with basil trays (20 trays, about 50 plants each)-- Bah, Old Rudolpho, NYU and I piled onto the tractor with the foreman, and we drove off for the forest fields.
Up in the woods, the mud was thick and the rain fell steady. Dumping us and the basil, the foreman rolled back to the farm. We planted a double line of basil into one of the plastic wrapped rows from yesterday. NYU was miserable, soaked to the bone-- at least I had my weather jacket. Each step sunk down into a half foot of mud, arms and legs were caked in their entirety. We fantasized about the boss letting us go home early-- we talked through every possible exchange, dreamed of showers and dry clothes. Morale was killed for the day. All the same, NYU and I never transplanted so quickly. Bah and Old Rudolpho slogged along at a faster than usual clip too. Miraculously, we finished all the Basil minutes before lunch.
Right as we stumbled into the farm store, the rain died down and stopped-- no home for us.
After lunch, NYU and I helped Easy setup the CSA produce. We dragged a crate down to the garden and cut a bushel's worth of spearmint-- NYU obsessively watched the sky, pointing out every dark cloud, hoping against hope it would be the weather burst to send us home. Over lunch had I tried to reconcile the day-- I would stay till close no matter what happened, wishing for home would only be torture-- it didn't really work, I was watching clouds right with NYU.
Day old produce, greens in particular, can get limp and sad looking quick-- so we soaked a sink's worth of rabe, spinach, arugula and chard left over from yesterday's CSA (30 mins of soaking brings 'em all back to health). We tried some leaves of the arugula with Easy-- it was actually spicy. The boss said that as it fully matures, the stems in particular take on a strange hot 'n spiciness. After seeing to the first CSA customers, Easy told stories from his hard days in the field-- stories that neither (exhausted) NYU nor I cared to hear. The boss swung round in the van, I hopped into the back with NYU, and we went to cut 3 crates worth of romaine from the lower fields.
The boss didn't seem to notice our sad state. After rinsing and chilling the lettuce, he pulled NYU and I onto the tractor wagon-- back to the forest field. Bah and Old Rudolpho had just about finished cutting holes in the 3 empty plastic wrapped rows, dibbling 1in holes in each. The boss dropped off 900 eggplant sproutlings and quickly sprayed the dibble holes with a pesticide to keep the Colorado Potato beetles at bay (they go nuts over eggplant). The trowels we use for transplanting were entirely encapsulated in mud from the basil-- after breaking them free we went to work.
I recovered my head over the course of sinking in the eggplant. We planted 250 fairytale eggplants (small purple and white striped, firm and great to eat anyway you like) and 600 oriental eggplant of 3-4 different sub-varieties (oriental eggplant grows long and thin, doesn't have too many seeds but definitely needs some good recipe).
I went on a pee-adventure. It's pretty standard field practice, when your a 15-20 minute walk from the farm-- just piss at the field's edge. But I went into the woods, deep in. Wandered down a hill to the stream's head waters and up to the back woods plateau-- definitely need to be careful where you do your business, don't want to contaminate the water supply.
We finished up all the wrapped rows, with maybe 150 eggplants remaining. It was near closing and NYU wasted no time flying the coup. I kicked around the CSA, chatting with the boss. My parents are CSA members, and they came to pick up their share. I gave them a brief (and distant) tour of the tomato fields, and helped them pick out some good greens/berries. Signed out, and finally got home.
One day's sleep is all I need.
Take it easy.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
First CSA of the Season
Full sun, not a cloud in the sky. Temperature started in the 70Fs, then climbed to mid-upper 80Fs in the afternoon.
Got right to it this morning-- arrived at the farm and headed out to the lower fields to pull the rest of the beet greens with NYU. We finished in about fifteen minutes-- then it was back to the store to prepare for the festivities. We washed off the beet greens and started soaking the bok choi (Bah and Old Rudolpho have been cutting non-stop). I reorganized the cooler-- with all the strawberries and greens coming in it's already near full. To simplify finding produce in the maze of crates and boxes, I tried to keep like veggies piled only with like veggies. The boss wanted to ease into the afternoon's preparations, so NYU and I headed back up to the second raspberry field to start the weeding process.
The weeding was painfully slow. The field and its paths were so over grown that it took until lunch for us to clear half of a single row. I got on all fours to rummage beneath the berry canes, dragging out fist after fist full of weeds and roots-- honey bees hummed above and spiders skiddered everywhere. It got to the point that I could tell what type of spider it was from just the feel of their legs sneaking down my neck or arm-- daddy-long-legs vs tiny white spider vs the fat bodied yellow guys vs the brown grass spiders.
NYU and I head back for lunch, but at the store we were blown away-- everyone was on today. Rhode Island was in the greenhouse; Jockey and Mouse in the kitchen; Easy was arranging the produce wagons; Viking was selling pies; the foreman was ferreting empty/full crates between fields. It was a madhouse, as more van loads of families came for the strawberry picking.
After lunch, NYU and I helped Easy lay out the produce-- pretty good spread for the first day: romaine, loose leaf, chard, bok choi, strawberries galore, some arugula from a farm in the next town, beet greens, spinach, broccoli rabe and bunches of spearmint we cut fresh from the garden. The wagons looked pretty full, but it'll only get better. NYU hoisted me up to tie back the awning-- gotta keep those greens out of the sun. We moved a few towers of empty crates back to the barn. I rigged up a wire latch to hang Viking's CSA sign and things started looking real professional. Easy setup a little greeting table with the list of names-- all ready for people.
The boss was sitting off by himself, munching at lunch-- in a busy mood. So I ran out with NYU to the lower fields to help the foreman move a few irrigation lines. Rhode Island gives me grief about running everywhere--but ya gotta do something to offset the cigarettes. Now that one big round of the bok choi has been cut, (and the beets, and the rabe, and the spinach, and some lettuce) it was time to harrow over these rows in preparation for the next planting-- this season is flying by already.
2PM marked the beginning of pick-ups, and right on the dot-- cars and the people descended onto the farm store. NYU really prefers milling around the CSA and chatting with customers, but (not so secretly) I was happy when the boss shooed us back to the weeds.
Back in the quiet hill corner, the hawks circled and the heat really picked up.The weeds we dragged out into the sun earlier in the day were already dead dry and crumbled beneath a boot. The second half of the row was in worse shape than the first-- but we pulled slowly along. NYU listens to books on tape as we work-- he had a copy of Blood Meridian going today-- and keeps me informed of the happenings and plot. He said he liked the context of this story and working on the farm-- we really have it easy, water is nearby (doesn't require days of marching) and we aren't always worried about being scalped. After some long hours we finished the row and headed back to the store to refill our water.
We happened into meeting up with the boss-- the basil needs to be planted tomorrow, so it was time to prepare the rows. NYU and I filled up our water in the kitchen (dodging through Jockey's hijinks), grabbed shovels and hopped on the tractor with the foreman. We rode out to the forest field and started laying out the drip line. Over last weekend-- Easy came in to help Old Rudolpho and his chubby grandson (Jay-Jay) lay down plastic for the cucumber rows. It was pouring rain, and Easy couldn't think of a less capable crew for the job-- but somehow they managed. (For the cucumbers they laid the plastic flat and wide, for the plant vines to really stretch out and grow their veggies weed-free. Think I've mentioned this before.)
The day was growing real short-- but we hustled through wrapping 4 long rows without a hitch. All the drip line was too short to reach the field's length, so we tied multiple lines together and carefully marked the connections by jabbing tree branches through the plastic wrap. We rode back to the farm store, weaved through the packed parking lot and called it a day.
Now that the CSA is going-- Viking, Jockey and Rhode Island stay to keep the store open until 9PM. I don't envy 'em.
Writing late tonight-- had band practice. Dusted off the mandolin, my brother brought along the guitar and we rehearsed with our father's band for a show this weekend. All this moving and shaking wipes you out.
So close to the weekend-- it's just on the other side of that basil planting and raspberry weeding.
Take it easy.
Got right to it this morning-- arrived at the farm and headed out to the lower fields to pull the rest of the beet greens with NYU. We finished in about fifteen minutes-- then it was back to the store to prepare for the festivities. We washed off the beet greens and started soaking the bok choi (Bah and Old Rudolpho have been cutting non-stop). I reorganized the cooler-- with all the strawberries and greens coming in it's already near full. To simplify finding produce in the maze of crates and boxes, I tried to keep like veggies piled only with like veggies. The boss wanted to ease into the afternoon's preparations, so NYU and I headed back up to the second raspberry field to start the weeding process.
The weeding was painfully slow. The field and its paths were so over grown that it took until lunch for us to clear half of a single row. I got on all fours to rummage beneath the berry canes, dragging out fist after fist full of weeds and roots-- honey bees hummed above and spiders skiddered everywhere. It got to the point that I could tell what type of spider it was from just the feel of their legs sneaking down my neck or arm-- daddy-long-legs vs tiny white spider vs the fat bodied yellow guys vs the brown grass spiders.
NYU and I head back for lunch, but at the store we were blown away-- everyone was on today. Rhode Island was in the greenhouse; Jockey and Mouse in the kitchen; Easy was arranging the produce wagons; Viking was selling pies; the foreman was ferreting empty/full crates between fields. It was a madhouse, as more van loads of families came for the strawberry picking.
After lunch, NYU and I helped Easy lay out the produce-- pretty good spread for the first day: romaine, loose leaf, chard, bok choi, strawberries galore, some arugula from a farm in the next town, beet greens, spinach, broccoli rabe and bunches of spearmint we cut fresh from the garden. The wagons looked pretty full, but it'll only get better. NYU hoisted me up to tie back the awning-- gotta keep those greens out of the sun. We moved a few towers of empty crates back to the barn. I rigged up a wire latch to hang Viking's CSA sign and things started looking real professional. Easy setup a little greeting table with the list of names-- all ready for people.
The boss was sitting off by himself, munching at lunch-- in a busy mood. So I ran out with NYU to the lower fields to help the foreman move a few irrigation lines. Rhode Island gives me grief about running everywhere--but ya gotta do something to offset the cigarettes. Now that one big round of the bok choi has been cut, (and the beets, and the rabe, and the spinach, and some lettuce) it was time to harrow over these rows in preparation for the next planting-- this season is flying by already.
2PM marked the beginning of pick-ups, and right on the dot-- cars and the people descended onto the farm store. NYU really prefers milling around the CSA and chatting with customers, but (not so secretly) I was happy when the boss shooed us back to the weeds.
Back in the quiet hill corner, the hawks circled and the heat really picked up.The weeds we dragged out into the sun earlier in the day were already dead dry and crumbled beneath a boot. The second half of the row was in worse shape than the first-- but we pulled slowly along. NYU listens to books on tape as we work-- he had a copy of Blood Meridian going today-- and keeps me informed of the happenings and plot. He said he liked the context of this story and working on the farm-- we really have it easy, water is nearby (doesn't require days of marching) and we aren't always worried about being scalped. After some long hours we finished the row and headed back to the store to refill our water.
We happened into meeting up with the boss-- the basil needs to be planted tomorrow, so it was time to prepare the rows. NYU and I filled up our water in the kitchen (dodging through Jockey's hijinks), grabbed shovels and hopped on the tractor with the foreman. We rode out to the forest field and started laying out the drip line. Over last weekend-- Easy came in to help Old Rudolpho and his chubby grandson (Jay-Jay) lay down plastic for the cucumber rows. It was pouring rain, and Easy couldn't think of a less capable crew for the job-- but somehow they managed. (For the cucumbers they laid the plastic flat and wide, for the plant vines to really stretch out and grow their veggies weed-free. Think I've mentioned this before.)
The day was growing real short-- but we hustled through wrapping 4 long rows without a hitch. All the drip line was too short to reach the field's length, so we tied multiple lines together and carefully marked the connections by jabbing tree branches through the plastic wrap. We rode back to the farm store, weaved through the packed parking lot and called it a day.
Now that the CSA is going-- Viking, Jockey and Rhode Island stay to keep the store open until 9PM. I don't envy 'em.
Writing late tonight-- had band practice. Dusted off the mandolin, my brother brought along the guitar and we rehearsed with our father's band for a show this weekend. All this moving and shaking wipes you out.
So close to the weekend-- it's just on the other side of that basil planting and raspberry weeding.
Take it easy.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Bright Lights
Full sun the whole day through. Temperature climbed out of the mid 60Fs and hung in the 70Fs.
Swung down into the greenhouse this morning to chat with the boss. Everyone is pushing hard to be ready for tomorrow-- first day of CSA. Our system is pretty basic, families or individuals buy whole or partial shares-- then pick up produce once a week from June to late October. There are some progressive farms in the surrounding towns who try all sorts of different arrangements-- CSA members pay no money, but work once a week for food/ CSA members pay no money then work for some food then the rest is donated to a big food bank/ etc. I asked the boss about these arrangements and he made a good point-- why would he want people unfamiliar with farming or the plants being grown to run amok in the fields every week of the season? How much would he be able to really grow? The summer help needs a couple solid weeks of work to get up to speed, people working an hour here and there would never catch on. The boss definitely prefers a more controlled, skilled approach-- which is expensive, but usually produces a larger high quality yield.
Anyway, after chatting around for a few minutes I ran up to the second raspberry field to join NYU (he got an early start today). He'd already lowered all the crossbeams-- so we double checked over the rows and started stringing the wire. The going was quick-- between running the spool and tying off to the crossbeams we managed at a continuous walking pace. It took only an hour and a half to string each side of the rows. The canes in this field have grown wildly, so lifting the raspberries and tightening the lines took much longer than planned. The boss and foreman rolled by in their tractors to admire our handiwork. The boss was in good spirits-- I've decided that he's at his best in the mornings, things only sour when the high school help begins to arrive.
Earlier this spring we extracted an ancient raspberry field from the ever encroaching wood's edge (right next to the hillside field we were stringing). During a brief water break, the boss explained his plan to bring the reclaimed soil back to use: the brush and trees really tangled up and lowered the dirt quality, so the first move is to harrow under what little remains of the old raspberries-- mix them into the soil and let 'em rot. After mingling in some compost and ashes the boss plans to plant a few rounds of sweet corn to re-establish the area-- then back in with the berries.
We finished the raspberries with a half hour till lunch, so we walked up hill and I showed NYU the developing peaches. Back at the farm store, we checked on Viking's gardening and joked around.
After lunch the picking bonanza began. NYU and I dragged ten bushel crates down to the lower fields and started to cut a round of the Bright Lights Swiss Chard. These plants will continuously throw out more leaves and stems if you're careful-- trim off the withered useless leaves dragging in the soil, then only pick the larger standing stem/leaves around the edges (leave the small developing leaves at the plant's center). We planted a lot of chard this year, four rows in a bed going the field's length-- it took us three hours to fill the crates. (The 2 rows I picked were too small in places-- making a full bunch a much more difficult and lengthy process.)
The boss hauled off our chard catch and returned with more bushel crates. NYU and I finished up picking the remaining row length of broccoli rabe-- packed three crates till near bursting. Throughout the afternoon families came into the fields by the van-load for Pick-Your-Own strawberries. It's good business, but I'm not used to seeing mothers and little kids in the fields-- out of shame, I walked off into the woods to take my rare smoke/water breaks (I really don't like having a cigarette in front of kids).
After the rabe, we towered our pickings in the shade and joined the foreman at the far edges of the field. He had many more bushel crates with him. One of our several beds of beets was doing terrible-- planted first, early spring molds killed off more than half the crop and slowed the development of the rest. Rather than consign them to compost, the boss decided to cut and bunch up the beet greens for the CSA. NYU and I sifted through the weeds and bunched the underdeveloped plants till closing. The foreman, Bah and Old Rudolpho worked in the next row over, cutting an entire bed's worth of Bok Choi.
Sometime after closing, we hitched a ride with the foreman in the tractor as he brought all the filled crates back to the farm store. We hosed off the greens, beets and a portion of the bok choi, then put 'em all in the cooler to chill.
Bought a dozen eggs, lettuce and some garlic from Viking-- chatted around with her husband who came by to visit. Then back to home.
Tomorrow the real festivities begin, Onward CSA!
Swung down into the greenhouse this morning to chat with the boss. Everyone is pushing hard to be ready for tomorrow-- first day of CSA. Our system is pretty basic, families or individuals buy whole or partial shares-- then pick up produce once a week from June to late October. There are some progressive farms in the surrounding towns who try all sorts of different arrangements-- CSA members pay no money, but work once a week for food/ CSA members pay no money then work for some food then the rest is donated to a big food bank/ etc. I asked the boss about these arrangements and he made a good point-- why would he want people unfamiliar with farming or the plants being grown to run amok in the fields every week of the season? How much would he be able to really grow? The summer help needs a couple solid weeks of work to get up to speed, people working an hour here and there would never catch on. The boss definitely prefers a more controlled, skilled approach-- which is expensive, but usually produces a larger high quality yield.
Anyway, after chatting around for a few minutes I ran up to the second raspberry field to join NYU (he got an early start today). He'd already lowered all the crossbeams-- so we double checked over the rows and started stringing the wire. The going was quick-- between running the spool and tying off to the crossbeams we managed at a continuous walking pace. It took only an hour and a half to string each side of the rows. The canes in this field have grown wildly, so lifting the raspberries and tightening the lines took much longer than planned. The boss and foreman rolled by in their tractors to admire our handiwork. The boss was in good spirits-- I've decided that he's at his best in the mornings, things only sour when the high school help begins to arrive.
Earlier this spring we extracted an ancient raspberry field from the ever encroaching wood's edge (right next to the hillside field we were stringing). During a brief water break, the boss explained his plan to bring the reclaimed soil back to use: the brush and trees really tangled up and lowered the dirt quality, so the first move is to harrow under what little remains of the old raspberries-- mix them into the soil and let 'em rot. After mingling in some compost and ashes the boss plans to plant a few rounds of sweet corn to re-establish the area-- then back in with the berries.
We finished the raspberries with a half hour till lunch, so we walked up hill and I showed NYU the developing peaches. Back at the farm store, we checked on Viking's gardening and joked around.
After lunch the picking bonanza began. NYU and I dragged ten bushel crates down to the lower fields and started to cut a round of the Bright Lights Swiss Chard. These plants will continuously throw out more leaves and stems if you're careful-- trim off the withered useless leaves dragging in the soil, then only pick the larger standing stem/leaves around the edges (leave the small developing leaves at the plant's center). We planted a lot of chard this year, four rows in a bed going the field's length-- it took us three hours to fill the crates. (The 2 rows I picked were too small in places-- making a full bunch a much more difficult and lengthy process.)
The boss hauled off our chard catch and returned with more bushel crates. NYU and I finished up picking the remaining row length of broccoli rabe-- packed three crates till near bursting. Throughout the afternoon families came into the fields by the van-load for Pick-Your-Own strawberries. It's good business, but I'm not used to seeing mothers and little kids in the fields-- out of shame, I walked off into the woods to take my rare smoke/water breaks (I really don't like having a cigarette in front of kids).
After the rabe, we towered our pickings in the shade and joined the foreman at the far edges of the field. He had many more bushel crates with him. One of our several beds of beets was doing terrible-- planted first, early spring molds killed off more than half the crop and slowed the development of the rest. Rather than consign them to compost, the boss decided to cut and bunch up the beet greens for the CSA. NYU and I sifted through the weeds and bunched the underdeveloped plants till closing. The foreman, Bah and Old Rudolpho worked in the next row over, cutting an entire bed's worth of Bok Choi.
Sometime after closing, we hitched a ride with the foreman in the tractor as he brought all the filled crates back to the farm store. We hosed off the greens, beets and a portion of the bok choi, then put 'em all in the cooler to chill.
Bought a dozen eggs, lettuce and some garlic from Viking-- chatted around with her husband who came by to visit. Then back to home.
Tomorrow the real festivities begin, Onward CSA!
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