Wild weather again. Most of today was spent under a cloudy overcast-- although at noon the sun seemed to burn through. The temperature climbed slowly into the upper 80Fs and low 90Fs. Everything changed in the ten minutes after closing.
This morning started fine and easy. The foreman and I are getting along real well these days-- so our work sped along pleasantly. After going through the greenhouse and walking the fields, we hitched the empty post wagon up to the tractor and went for a ride. We rolled up to the hilltop fields where the boss dumped all the extra trellises along a stone wall (right by the potatoes)-- stacked the wagon up with 45 rusted posts, nearly a hundred improvised stakes and a couple dozen bundles of old wire. Looking over the potato and corn fields the foreman spotted a large 'tom turkey' gliding around in a mating dance-- he was a very big fella, 30lbs at least. We caught sight of some female turkeys watching the male display before the tractor engine scared off the lot of them.
The foreman and I took the long ride from the hilltop down to the cherry tomato fields. There's an ancient (200-300 year old) stone slab bridge across the streams-- one tractor can pass over slow and carefully, but with a wagon in tow the only way from the hill top to the farm central is by taking the main road. An eight-teen wheeler nearly mowed us down, despite the foreman's best efforts. A little rattled, we made it to the tomatoes and started laying the final two rows of trellis.
It went much the same as yesterday, the foreman inched the tractor along and pried out holes while I bashed the posts into place. The foreman had his Ipod going again, making things easy. At one point he switched to AM radio news-- just in time for us to catch the weather warning broadcast. Out west the state is being pummeled again with severe thunderstorms and hail. We kept up the pace and finished up quickly-- all the extra posts, the stakes and wire coils were dumped in orderly piles along the tractor road.
Back at the farm store, the boss finally arrived. Last night a few brisk thunderstorms passed through the area, watering all the crops and making yesterday's irrigation troubles seem silly. The storms brought some stiff winds, so the boss had hustled over in the middle of the night and taken down the tarp awning and closed up the greenhouse. The foreman and I rehung the tarp-- tying off the loose bits where necessary. One last task before lunch. The boss and I loaded the van with all the unsold lettuce seedlings we had up in the store. He drove me down to the lower fields and I sunk the 90-120 plants into dirt. Bah wasn't in today, so Old Rudolpho was out on his own picking spinach and broccoli rabe. The spinach came from the rows heavily damaged by mold earlier this spring-- there wasn't much to pick, maybe 3 bushel packs total. The spinach rows share a bed with a single line of broccoli-- all of which the boss plans to till over and replant. The boss explained-- with the rush to plant the tomatoes we unfortunately allowed the broccoli to flower, shooting in the foot its chance at food production. So it must go.
Watching Old Rudolpho work from my lettuce planting, he didn't looking too good. When his sons arrive they help him along and pick up any slack, but on his own he marched at a snails speed down the line with the filled crates. Somehow he managed, but all the same I dragged him out of the fields with me when lunch time swung around.
Got a surprise call at lunch-- from my buddy who worked a week with me in the hard early days of April. He was well, and we chatted as I wandered about the horse pond.
After lunch the boss and I spent some quality time installing the steel sink. The legs actually fit into place, but the long screws we dropped into the concrete left much to be desired. They weren't exactly the right type of screws for the job-- the boss has a strict regimen of thrift, everything is saved and reused (from screws and bolts to drip line and plastic field wrap). The screws fit in perfect but as we tightened the bolts, the screws spun with the bolt despite the concrete. Using some ingenious bolt/washer combinations and a pair of vice grips, we managed to tighten down the legs sufficiently. Jockey was in, manning a customer-less ice cream window, so he came out and we hefted the sink top into its place on the legs. I dug out a place for the rusted iron support beam, and soon the sink looked pretty legitimate. Just in time.
Old Rudolpho finally finished picking the spinach and rabe, leaving the bushel crates in the walk-in cooler. The honor of first wash detail were all mine. After scrubbing out the sink, I filled it up and dumped in a crates worth of spinach to soak. I filled up the the second sink (its a double sink) and began a few hours of washing. The simple steps: soaking in the first sink removes most of the field dirt; next, you gather a bunch worth of spinach and tie it up with an elastic band; dunk it in the dirt-less water of the second sink then pack it into an empty crate. Once washed, it's back into the cooler-- washing and chilling really does good things for veggie greens, the process firms up the produce making it last a good deal longer (and look better too).
I finished up the spinach and rabe in time to hop unto the tractor as the foreman headed off to the forest field. Woodchucks and deer had eaten a good chunk out of the zucchini and summer squash rows. In the field we pulled out the stubs left behind and replanted new seeds in their place. The foreman brought along a roll of gauze cloth to cover over and protect the plants from the vermin. As we rolled out the cloth the clouds on the horizon started to turn dark. As we rode back to the farm store the wind really took off, blowing hard through the trees.
Checking the radio--sure enough the western storms were headed our way fast. We brought all the basil trays into the greenhouse and started weather-proofing the farm store. After the tornado scares a few weeks back, we all have the system down like clockwork-- trash barrels go to their place, Jockey and I unhitched the awning, produce wagons were rolled underneath the hard porch roof, Viking and I tucked away all the seedlings for sale. It was closing time and the boss told us all to go home-- but for some reason we all stayed, standing about talking. The boss's wife came over to pick up some spinach and rabe with Lucy. It was around that time I took a look to the north.
The sky was nearly night black-- thick low clouds. The system was moving down from the north-west (original reports predicted it would by-pass us entirely on its way south). The storm front was straight as a knife cut-- one side red afternoon clouds/ the other black storm. I saw several shots of lightning right as the wind picked up and temperature dropped into the mid 60Fs. Viking and the foreman snapped pictures-- the approaching storm really was incredible looking. The awning blew loose from the cinder blocks we tucked it under -- Jockey and I sprinted across the fields in pursuit. We caught the tarp and folded it up. Everyone went quickly on our ways home.
Driving home, it was a hard rain-- one of those where the windshield wipers just can't keep up with the water. As I'm writing this post I can feel some of these thunder bursts rumbling through the ground.
I hope the foreman's erosion trenches work out in the tomato field. And I really hope Rhode Island is in tomorrow, I got a feeling the morning is gonna be spent shoveling lots of mud.
Stay dry and onward tomorrow.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Rust and Dry
Hot and hazy, full sun all day. The temperature stuck in the mid 90Fs.
Some days are tough.
When I walked in this morning the foreman already had the new tractor hitched up to a wagon full of the rusted 6ft trellis posts. Rhode Island and I grabbed the maul (half axe, half sledgehammer), two iron pry bars and a long log to stamp down soil. We all headed down to the cherry tomato and odd ball big tomato rows, and started laying posts. The tomato plants are still small, so the foreman could drive the tractor over and along each row without the plants scrapping against the undercarriage.The foreman would dig a small hole with the pry bar-- rhode island set in and held the trellis in place, while I stood on the wagon and bashed the posts 2-3ft deep with the maul. We piled soil around the post and Rhode Island packed down the soil with the log. We put in a post every fourteen plants (~14ft) and at each end of a row-- rhode island and I counted out the plants while the foreman crawled the tractor and wagon forward.
After some time the boss rode by in the van, he wanted to take a picture of Rhode Island caked in sweat and dirt-- to commemorate the first day of hard work in his life. Rhode Island managed to laugh. The foreman was in good spirits-- the new tractor has a radio, so he plugged in his Ipod and maxed out the volume dial. He's a big fan of Otis Redding, 70s Soul and Reggae. Rhode Island had never heard of Bob Marley and the foreman nearly had a heart attack. Music made the heat tolerable and we pushed through until lunch, finishing only 6 rows.
After lunch I took a long break. I think we were all too quick judging Jockey, he eventually joined the foreman, Viking and me as we sat joking around in the shade behind the farm store. Jockey quit his job at a burrito joint when the boss agreed to take him on-- and he's never been happier. Bah and Old Rudolpho spent all day picking the first strawberry harvest. They filled up all the farm store refrigerators with pints full of berries-- we scooped some off the top while sitting around. I'd already sweated my shirt into a wet rag, it was nice to breath a moment.
The foreman and I headed down to the pond to fire up the irrigation. I cranked away on the pump primer-- but we couldn't get any suction. The boss started to get a bit agitated over the situation, the fields needed to be watered. We dragged out the 40ft suction pipe, but the repairs looked fine. The boss painted on another coat of fiberglass. While it dried, the foreman and I returned to laying posts in the cherry tomato fields.
We kept up a fast pace, but it took a lot of sweat. We slugged through 8 rows. With only an hour left we walked back to the farm store. The boss and I returned down to the pond to try the irrigation again-- no luck, no suction. We brought down a trash bag and used it to test for leaks. When you pull the primer lever it sucks a small amount of air from the suction pipe-- slowly, after many pumps it brings the water up the 40ft pipe to the pump's fan which pushes the water through the artery lines. The pipe passed the trash bag test-- so the boss was stumped. We took apart the pump side which leads to the artery and found the problem. A rubber flap keeps air in the artery from ruining the suction in the pump and pipe while priming-- it had fallen slightly out of line, breaking the seal. The foreman joined us-- after many false starts, disassembles and reassembles of the pump (and a long time spent cranking the primer by me) the water flowed once more.
The foreman went to finish off some fertilizing and I ran down to the lower fields with wrenches and wire. After lunch (I forgot to mention), we replaced the blank pipes in the lettuce row with more water guns-- so it became a very heavy watering line. Last week we found the irrigation left some serious dry gaps that even increased water pressure couldn't solve. So I ran down (warning Bah and Old Rudolpho of the coming water) and cleared out the water gun nozzles-- it was a good day to get wet.
Before going home I helped the boss toss 30 more gallons of diesel into the old tractor running the water pump. I said to the foreman-- we aren't going to have to take the pump apart every time we irrigate are we? He replied-- Let's hope its a wet summer.
Asides:
Things have really sped up on the farm. It's becoming harder and harder to keep tabs on everything that's happening on a given day-- kinda makes me miss those slow days in early April. I need to find a happier medium between what's happening on the farm and what I'm doing there-- something to think over while out in the field.
Big Snapping turtles have been all over the streams the past week or so. Viking had me rescue one from the middle of the road before it was run over. They are big and nasty-- longish nosed too. The boss was moving compost and accidentally crushed a pile of buried eggs. Today I found a big old snapper crushed by the side of the road-- it has not been a good week for these turtles.
The CSA kicks off next week and we hope to have around 400 pint of strawberries ready for the pick up days. The boss is trying to stock up the farm store first-- today we've already sold a good number of berries (any number is a good one). Optimistically, he's hoping to bring in a couple thousand dollars in berries before the CSA begins. There's a big sign for the farm on the main road-- the boss painted it decades ago-- we hang smaller signs below it telling what crops are available. Now the "Strawberries" sign is up and, hopefully, the people will be coming in.
Thunderstorms are due later in the week, but until then--
on with the heat.
Some days are tough.
When I walked in this morning the foreman already had the new tractor hitched up to a wagon full of the rusted 6ft trellis posts. Rhode Island and I grabbed the maul (half axe, half sledgehammer), two iron pry bars and a long log to stamp down soil. We all headed down to the cherry tomato and odd ball big tomato rows, and started laying posts. The tomato plants are still small, so the foreman could drive the tractor over and along each row without the plants scrapping against the undercarriage.The foreman would dig a small hole with the pry bar-- rhode island set in and held the trellis in place, while I stood on the wagon and bashed the posts 2-3ft deep with the maul. We piled soil around the post and Rhode Island packed down the soil with the log. We put in a post every fourteen plants (~14ft) and at each end of a row-- rhode island and I counted out the plants while the foreman crawled the tractor and wagon forward.
After some time the boss rode by in the van, he wanted to take a picture of Rhode Island caked in sweat and dirt-- to commemorate the first day of hard work in his life. Rhode Island managed to laugh. The foreman was in good spirits-- the new tractor has a radio, so he plugged in his Ipod and maxed out the volume dial. He's a big fan of Otis Redding, 70s Soul and Reggae. Rhode Island had never heard of Bob Marley and the foreman nearly had a heart attack. Music made the heat tolerable and we pushed through until lunch, finishing only 6 rows.
After lunch I took a long break. I think we were all too quick judging Jockey, he eventually joined the foreman, Viking and me as we sat joking around in the shade behind the farm store. Jockey quit his job at a burrito joint when the boss agreed to take him on-- and he's never been happier. Bah and Old Rudolpho spent all day picking the first strawberry harvest. They filled up all the farm store refrigerators with pints full of berries-- we scooped some off the top while sitting around. I'd already sweated my shirt into a wet rag, it was nice to breath a moment.
The foreman and I headed down to the pond to fire up the irrigation. I cranked away on the pump primer-- but we couldn't get any suction. The boss started to get a bit agitated over the situation, the fields needed to be watered. We dragged out the 40ft suction pipe, but the repairs looked fine. The boss painted on another coat of fiberglass. While it dried, the foreman and I returned to laying posts in the cherry tomato fields.
We kept up a fast pace, but it took a lot of sweat. We slugged through 8 rows. With only an hour left we walked back to the farm store. The boss and I returned down to the pond to try the irrigation again-- no luck, no suction. We brought down a trash bag and used it to test for leaks. When you pull the primer lever it sucks a small amount of air from the suction pipe-- slowly, after many pumps it brings the water up the 40ft pipe to the pump's fan which pushes the water through the artery lines. The pipe passed the trash bag test-- so the boss was stumped. We took apart the pump side which leads to the artery and found the problem. A rubber flap keeps air in the artery from ruining the suction in the pump and pipe while priming-- it had fallen slightly out of line, breaking the seal. The foreman joined us-- after many false starts, disassembles and reassembles of the pump (and a long time spent cranking the primer by me) the water flowed once more.
The foreman went to finish off some fertilizing and I ran down to the lower fields with wrenches and wire. After lunch (I forgot to mention), we replaced the blank pipes in the lettuce row with more water guns-- so it became a very heavy watering line. Last week we found the irrigation left some serious dry gaps that even increased water pressure couldn't solve. So I ran down (warning Bah and Old Rudolpho of the coming water) and cleared out the water gun nozzles-- it was a good day to get wet.
Before going home I helped the boss toss 30 more gallons of diesel into the old tractor running the water pump. I said to the foreman-- we aren't going to have to take the pump apart every time we irrigate are we? He replied-- Let's hope its a wet summer.
Asides:
Things have really sped up on the farm. It's becoming harder and harder to keep tabs on everything that's happening on a given day-- kinda makes me miss those slow days in early April. I need to find a happier medium between what's happening on the farm and what I'm doing there-- something to think over while out in the field.
Big Snapping turtles have been all over the streams the past week or so. Viking had me rescue one from the middle of the road before it was run over. They are big and nasty-- longish nosed too. The boss was moving compost and accidentally crushed a pile of buried eggs. Today I found a big old snapper crushed by the side of the road-- it has not been a good week for these turtles.
The CSA kicks off next week and we hope to have around 400 pint of strawberries ready for the pick up days. The boss is trying to stock up the farm store first-- today we've already sold a good number of berries (any number is a good one). Optimistically, he's hoping to bring in a couple thousand dollars in berries before the CSA begins. There's a big sign for the farm on the main road-- the boss painted it decades ago-- we hang smaller signs below it telling what crops are available. Now the "Strawberries" sign is up and, hopefully, the people will be coming in.
Thunderstorms are due later in the week, but until then--
on with the heat.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Poles, Pipes and Pumps
Not a cloud in the sky all day through. Temperature cinched into the low 90Fs-- the guy at the pizza shop tells me tomorrow will be even hotter.
It was a morning of buddy-buddy with Rhode Island. The boss needed to pick up a big shipment of seeds, fertilizer and herbicide on the other side of the state-- so he dumped me, Rhode Island and a wagon full of re-bar poles in the raspberry rows at the far side of the lower field. Our job was to plant poles throughout the rows-- between the heavy duty trellises the foreman and I buried last week. I give Rhode Island a hard time, but he's alright-- very eager to please.
I carried bundles of the re-bar trellises and planted them about every ten paces amid the plants. Rhode Island came behind me with a heavy mallet and bashed them into place-- 3ft deep, 3ft above soil. We talked about his early morning drinking habits and his mother's fears that he's an alcoholic. It turns out through parallel universes that Rhode Island knows two of my cousins-- the sailor brothers, one runs a sailing school on a lake nearby and the other races competitively up and down the coast. I get on well with both brothers and enjoy our habitual drinking nights in town.
Chatting away we easily planted the re-bar in 4 of the 5 rows. Out of re-bar, we used wide green sign posts for the final row-- these went in more difficultly. Somewhere along the line the fiberglass mallet handle shattered-- so Rhode Island switched to an iron maul. I started the post holes 2ft deep with an iron pry bar, while Rhode Island finished them off-- smashing the posts into place.
Returning to the farm store we took a sampling tour through the strawberry fields. I watered over the greenhouse and we dragged all the basil plants outside-- transplanting begins later this week (i hope).
The boss returned from his trip a little before noon. I found the big tarp canopy in a corner of the barn, the foreman and I hung it over the back area of the farm store-- covering where we put out the produce wagons for CSA customers.
Around this time one of the high school kids came in for his first day of manning the ice cream window. All the regulars have their opinion of this guy, Jockey-- and as I found out, he's difficult. A soccer player for a local team, he seemed a bit emasculated when I told him Rhode Island and NYU have been joining me out in the fields-- but I guess ice cream is important too. (The whole ice cream thing never really took off for the boss-- so this year he's planted a few signs along the main road side to drum up that end of business)
After lunch I was assigned an interesting construction project.
We have a large stainless steel kitchen sink out behind the farm store-- we use it to wash veggies coming from the fields. It was free standing last year-- propped up on cinder blocks-- until a strong wind blew it over. Fortunately none of the facets were ever attached to a water line (so clean up was easy), but we always have to run a hose out from the kitchen. This year the boss wants a more permanent arrangement.
Yesterday Rhode Island dug two 2ft deep holes by the old well, and today I poured in the concrete-- mixed it with a hoe in a crappy old wheelbarrow. Once it had set, I measure and half buried long screws-- so we can bolt the steel sink legs on top.
The foreman managed the irrigation all day, riding off occasionally to spread fertilizer. I ran down after setting the screws to help him shift the pipes and water guns further down into the tomato fields. Everything went fine, but for some reason the water pressure couldn't hold. We headed over to the pond with the boss and shut off the pump. Dragging out the 40ft pipe (the one I renovated in April), we found some of the repair putty had broken loose exposing long cracks. After drying the pipe length we resealed the cracks with more putty.
The foreman rumbled off in a tractor to spread fertilizer, while the boss and I waited for the putty to dry.
The boss didn't want to sit still, so we piled up a wagon with 5in pipes and laid a new irrigation line from the lower field artery up to the onion rows. He plans to set up one of the big water guns in order to cover the onions, herbs and some of the berry bushes. The gooseberries are growing big and green-- you can eat them at this stage but they're extremely tart. The boss said the Russian immigrant customers go crazy for gooseberries, I guess they use them in a bunch of traditional dishes.
Jockey had dragged up all the produce wagons from storage in the barn-- when we walked back to finish the water-pump-pipe he was busy painting over all the wood surfaces.
Down at the pipe, the boss decided the best course of action was to reinforce the damaged section at the waterline with a fiberglass sealant. We wrapped the banged up pipe part in mesh construction fabric, then painted over it with a mixture of liquid fiberglass and an activating solution. By tomorrow it should be dry enough to return to the pond and start irrigation back up.
The boss headed home early, and I gave the seedlings in the greenhouse a light re-watering on account of the heat.
Home again,
and onward to a hot tomorrow.
It was a morning of buddy-buddy with Rhode Island. The boss needed to pick up a big shipment of seeds, fertilizer and herbicide on the other side of the state-- so he dumped me, Rhode Island and a wagon full of re-bar poles in the raspberry rows at the far side of the lower field. Our job was to plant poles throughout the rows-- between the heavy duty trellises the foreman and I buried last week. I give Rhode Island a hard time, but he's alright-- very eager to please.
I carried bundles of the re-bar trellises and planted them about every ten paces amid the plants. Rhode Island came behind me with a heavy mallet and bashed them into place-- 3ft deep, 3ft above soil. We talked about his early morning drinking habits and his mother's fears that he's an alcoholic. It turns out through parallel universes that Rhode Island knows two of my cousins-- the sailor brothers, one runs a sailing school on a lake nearby and the other races competitively up and down the coast. I get on well with both brothers and enjoy our habitual drinking nights in town.
Chatting away we easily planted the re-bar in 4 of the 5 rows. Out of re-bar, we used wide green sign posts for the final row-- these went in more difficultly. Somewhere along the line the fiberglass mallet handle shattered-- so Rhode Island switched to an iron maul. I started the post holes 2ft deep with an iron pry bar, while Rhode Island finished them off-- smashing the posts into place.
Returning to the farm store we took a sampling tour through the strawberry fields. I watered over the greenhouse and we dragged all the basil plants outside-- transplanting begins later this week (i hope).
The boss returned from his trip a little before noon. I found the big tarp canopy in a corner of the barn, the foreman and I hung it over the back area of the farm store-- covering where we put out the produce wagons for CSA customers.
Around this time one of the high school kids came in for his first day of manning the ice cream window. All the regulars have their opinion of this guy, Jockey-- and as I found out, he's difficult. A soccer player for a local team, he seemed a bit emasculated when I told him Rhode Island and NYU have been joining me out in the fields-- but I guess ice cream is important too. (The whole ice cream thing never really took off for the boss-- so this year he's planted a few signs along the main road side to drum up that end of business)
After lunch I was assigned an interesting construction project.
We have a large stainless steel kitchen sink out behind the farm store-- we use it to wash veggies coming from the fields. It was free standing last year-- propped up on cinder blocks-- until a strong wind blew it over. Fortunately none of the facets were ever attached to a water line (so clean up was easy), but we always have to run a hose out from the kitchen. This year the boss wants a more permanent arrangement.
Yesterday Rhode Island dug two 2ft deep holes by the old well, and today I poured in the concrete-- mixed it with a hoe in a crappy old wheelbarrow. Once it had set, I measure and half buried long screws-- so we can bolt the steel sink legs on top.
The foreman managed the irrigation all day, riding off occasionally to spread fertilizer. I ran down after setting the screws to help him shift the pipes and water guns further down into the tomato fields. Everything went fine, but for some reason the water pressure couldn't hold. We headed over to the pond with the boss and shut off the pump. Dragging out the 40ft pipe (the one I renovated in April), we found some of the repair putty had broken loose exposing long cracks. After drying the pipe length we resealed the cracks with more putty.
The foreman rumbled off in a tractor to spread fertilizer, while the boss and I waited for the putty to dry.
The boss didn't want to sit still, so we piled up a wagon with 5in pipes and laid a new irrigation line from the lower field artery up to the onion rows. He plans to set up one of the big water guns in order to cover the onions, herbs and some of the berry bushes. The gooseberries are growing big and green-- you can eat them at this stage but they're extremely tart. The boss said the Russian immigrant customers go crazy for gooseberries, I guess they use them in a bunch of traditional dishes.
Jockey had dragged up all the produce wagons from storage in the barn-- when we walked back to finish the water-pump-pipe he was busy painting over all the wood surfaces.
Down at the pipe, the boss decided the best course of action was to reinforce the damaged section at the waterline with a fiberglass sealant. We wrapped the banged up pipe part in mesh construction fabric, then painted over it with a mixture of liquid fiberglass and an activating solution. By tomorrow it should be dry enough to return to the pond and start irrigation back up.
The boss headed home early, and I gave the seedlings in the greenhouse a light re-watering on account of the heat.
Home again,
and onward to a hot tomorrow.
Monday, June 6, 2011
PICTURE WEEKEND-- Darlin and the Old Men
Darlin came to visit! Saturday was our plant day-- I took her on a big tour of the farm, we visited an old lady's herb shop out in the woods and hit up an exotic plants sale at a garden society overlooking the reservoir.
First things first. Darlin had her camera and took great pictures, so without more babbling:
(All photo credit goes to Darlin)
We arrived just as Viking was opening up the store. After chatting with her a bit (Darlin thanked her for the pot of Lemonbalm), we headed down to check out the greenhouse. (Unfortunately, my ugly mug is featured in a good number of these pictures-- brace yourself) Most of the seedlings have been planted in the fields these past weeks, all that remains are eggplants, basil and the coming rounds of lettuce and late season tomatoes.
A close up shot on the medium trays of seedlings. I want to say these hold 80-120 plants, the smaller sized tray holds 248 plants and the larger sized tray holds 32 plants.
The basil is coming along nicely. I'd say we have about 3000 plants total. Between the CSA and wholesale the world is crazy for fresh herbs. A few local restaurants swing by once a week over the summer to load up on basil, sage and thyme. The boss is a hard sell on expanding restaurant business-- he has no interest in delivering to them, just another chore for maybe $80 tops. So unless they're willing to come get it themselves (and they rarely are), the restaurants are fresh outta luck. As a quick aside, the boss highly recommends that young start-up farmers grow herb heavy. Dollar per lbs, they're worth a lot more than conventional veggies and require less space/ maintenance. The offset is that they require more hustling to unload the crop after harvest. Most people can find a use for 5lbs of tomatoes, 5lbs of basil is a harder sell.
Looking out from the inside. There's the farm store over yonder. Inside: to the right is a pile of hoes, trench shovels, spades, rakes, pry bars and the odd pole. To the left we keep tables covered in a mad jumble of wrenches, crowbars, hammers, grease guns, sockets, boxes of seed bags, fertilizer, pesticide and herbicide mix. In the door way is the work table covered over in crap-- underneath you can see the battery jumper the boss uses to get the old tractor started every morning.
The front loader of the old tractor heaping over with junk plants. Darlin thought it was a shame we tossed out maybe 200 extra seedlings worth of swiss chard-- no defense there, it was a shame. After I refilled the dead gaps in the chard field, there was still so much left over and no place to put 'em except the compost. We meant to rescue a handful or two of chard, but forgot.
I took Darlin down to the tomato fields first. This is a row of Rose tomatoes planted at the top of the slope, so erosion from the storm last week was minimal-- but you can see where the soil washed up on the plastic and ruined our tight laying. The rose is pretty hardy and has taken to the field perfectly, they've already started growing out.
Here we are at the bottom of the tomato fields, where the foreman and I wrapped 15 rows on friday-- then planted the cherry tomatoes. Bah's off camera to the left sinking in rows of Prudence Purple and some other leftover big tomato varieties. On these hot sunny days you always have to keep a bucket of water and can nearby to soak the seedlings from time to time-- can't let the roots dry out during transplanting.
The long tomato rows, farm store, barn and greenhouse.
We crossed the road over to the lower fields and checked in on the blueberry bushes. The flowers have passed onto berry-- I see red and the starts of some blue, not too many more weeks until harvest in late June/early July. Big bunches of big berries, its gonna be a good start to the summer season.
(At this point I touched the camera and accidentally switched on some crazy light setting. Consider this an artistic interlude.)
They got off to funky start when laying the pea seeds, leaving some pretty funky growth patterns in the rows.
Two sparse spinach rows, broccoli and rows of beets.
The strawberries have come! That's suppose to be a very red berry, not one that looks like ashes. The camera setting is pretty ridiculous. Darling and I had a sampling of the first strawberries-- thumbs up. Juicy with a tart zip, that's a good strawberry for you.
We walked all over the lower fields, swung by the boss's house and hiked up the slope to the berry/onion/herb rows bordering on a cow pasture. Again, it was a bright sunny day-- not a vision of post apocolyptia. Up in the foreground are blackberry bushes, then the onion rows. These cows were separated from the mother herd to keep track of ongoing calf deliveries. One mother in this group calved last week (the 6th calf)-- the little one tends to hide in the long grass on the other side of the hill.
I brought Darlin up close to see the herd, and--it's Rosy! She b-lined over to the barbed fence for a head scratch. I don't think Darlin had ever been so close to cows before as she was a little surprised at how big they are. Rosy is still youngish-- but the other full grown cows go up to my shoulders. We stood scratching Rosy until she tried to eat my shirt.
Picture from Rosy of the herbs, onion rows and beyond. The boss drove the van back from the fields and we hoofed it over to introduce Darlin. Before long he went on his way for lunch.
We sauntered once more through the tomato fields and took the hill path up to the (secret) forest field.
Here's the scope of it. Four rows of peppers on the left-- the Ace, Red Knight, Super Shepherd and Snapper. On the far left are the rows of summer squash and zucchini, then two rows of cucumber. The unplanted rows will be cantaloupe. It does pretty well in this climate. We planted some last year with a greater emphasis on watermelon-- of course, no one wanted the melon but customers went wild for the cantaloupe. This year we're flipping the numbers-- more 'loupe less melon.
It was my turn to be surprised. The zucchini/summer squash has already germinated and is shooting up. I didn't expect to see anything out of them for a long while.
We walked back to farm central along the road. Passed by the lower fields and all the corn has sprung up. That's a yellow sign for the record.
We walked passed the farm store and headed up hill to the peach orchard and hill top fields.
(Darlin stopped to look through the pictures and noticed my accidental artistic adjustments. Fortunately, she fixed it just in time for some great shots.)
Midway up the hill at the edge of a blackberry field. One of the white mares is out grazing. The woman who owns them was marching through the pastures, it was grooming time.
A day of endless surprises-- the peach blooms took! Zoom in or look close and you can see fuzzy peach balls are on their way. This could be the first peach harvest (albeit small) from the orchard.
Darlin calls this my pontificating pose-- and said it needed to be documented. So here we are in the orchard near the mowed down raspberry rows, chances are I'm babbling on about raspberry mating rituals or something of the like.
An updated, end of spring, picture from the orchard top.
We hiked over to the hilltop field where we planted the potatoes and a bunch of rows worth of sweet corn. Endless fields, it boggles my mind how we have time to fill them all.
(This picture won't rotate for some reason) Not all surprises are good ones. I was happy to see that the potatoes have sprung their leaves out of the ground, but while touring the rows we found these guys everywhere. The Colorado Potato Beetle is out in force. They are a scourge. I've mentioned them before, but they're the ones that breed very very quickly, adapting to pesticides through the course of a single season. They munch away and damage the crops, but worst of all are their larvae. They lay eggs on the plant and the young worms swell into fat little maggot like fellows-- easily devouring entire plants, and then entire rows, in the process.
Darlin caught 'em in the act. Little pains in the ass, and now exhibitionists too... the list of problems goes on.
Here's the mound of stones Bah, the foreman and I dragged out of the fields earlier this spring. (Taken from a distance, it'd be more impressive in person)
Some say blogs are snapshots of vanity. To them I say-- Fair enough. We walked all over the hilltop and visited another strawberry field-- we decided the berries up here tasted much better.
Darlin and I took a long stroll along the tractor roads through the eggplant fields-to-be, more raspberry fields and finally made our way back to the farm store. Rolling the dice, we ran across the street to the big cow pastures-- hoping to catch a glimpse of the calves. We had good luck that day-- here are four of the calves romping along the tractor road. The mamas were nearby and pissed off at the two people gawking-- so for the sake of peace we kept our distance.
(I didnt want to be wrestling spooked calves back into the fencing with Darlin there)
Zooming in.
We hung around with Viking at the store before going on our way.
It was a great day. Darlin dug through the herbalist's shop and picked up a few ounces of some plant or other. I bought a bag of tobacco seeds-- another project for this summer.
I'm hoping that later in the season Darlin will be up with her camera again-- as you can see, she take much better pictures. We planned on writing a joint post, but there is never enough time. There is always next visit.
And that was Saturday.
-------
Monday, June 6, 2011
Full sun all day, low flying clouds drifted along their way. Temperature stuck in the 80Fs, but it felt hotter in the fields.
Old Rudolpho is back for the season. He's the patriarch of a Guatemalan family that works on the farm throughout the summer-- in his late 60s he looks the part. When I pulled in this morning I caught sight of him walking up the road to the farm-- red long sleeve, ranchero hat and grey mustache, just like last year. He spends the winter home in Guatemala with family-- 4-5 of his sons and their wives eventually come join him on the farm. As per usual, he forgot english over the winter-- I'm picking up some spanish to fill the gaps.
Bah, Old Rudolpho and I stuck together all day. We started cutting holes in all the plastic wrapped rows and cut right through and after lunch. We started off on the eleven new rows squeezed between the tomato fields and greenhouse area, then we headed over and cut holes in the forest fields where the cantaloupe will be planted tomorrow.
Bah and Old Rudolpho are an interesting work pair. Even in his late 60s, the old Guatemalan has enough experience to make up for the lost vigor. Talking to Old Rudolpho, I understood enough to learn he'd worked on farms his entire life in both Guatemala and the US. Bah mostly works in silence, but this being his first day back, Old Rudolpho chatted monologues and cracked jokes between every hole. My spanish is very bad, but I became the defacto english translator between the old men, as neither one could understand the other's accent.
Bah whipped up a great hole cutting invention over the weekend-- rather than cut out the plastic with a knife, he got a short length of aluminum air duct pipe and serrated the edge of one side (attaching a small handle on the other). So while Old Rudolpho and I slowly sliced our way along, Bah punched out entire rows.
Old Rudolpho was apparently unimpressed with the size of my pocket knife, so he brought me a foot long gutting knife. The Freudian imagery was spoiled when he dropped his on the walk to the forest field and needed the borrowed knife back.
After lunch we finally finished the cantaloupe rows, then Bah and Old Rudolpho took a long break in the shade. They caught up on each others kids and chatted about the 90Fs weather coming later in the week. The hawks were out in force, screeching and circling above us.We sat watching them a while.
We slowly returned to the greenhouse and exchanged our knives for hoes-- then headed out to the lower fields to weed a long bed of beets. The boss and the foreman were rumbling by in tractors all day, tilling and planting the hilltop and lower fields. Late in the afternoon some of Old Rudolpho's kids and grandkids rolled up to the field in a sedan. They leaned on the horn and Old Rudolpho ambled over. He chatted and hugged the little kids for a while before turning back into the fields with me and Bah.
An hour before the day's end the boss brought a van load of lettuce for transplanting. We planted 4 rows of loose leaf and started 4 more of romaine before heading home.
Viking had today off, so Rhode Island was working the shop. All he had to say was-- I hope I don't have to work in the fields when I'm Old Rudolpho's age.
Grunt work all day, but more tomorrow and it's only supposed to get hotter.
Take it easy. Onward farm!
First things first. Darlin had her camera and took great pictures, so without more babbling:
(All photo credit goes to Darlin)
(At this point I touched the camera and accidentally switched on some crazy light setting. Consider this an artistic interlude.)
We walked passed the farm store and headed up hill to the peach orchard and hill top fields.
(Darlin stopped to look through the pictures and noticed my accidental artistic adjustments. Fortunately, she fixed it just in time for some great shots.)
(I didnt want to be wrestling spooked calves back into the fencing with Darlin there)
We hung around with Viking at the store before going on our way.
It was a great day. Darlin dug through the herbalist's shop and picked up a few ounces of some plant or other. I bought a bag of tobacco seeds-- another project for this summer.
I'm hoping that later in the season Darlin will be up with her camera again-- as you can see, she take much better pictures. We planned on writing a joint post, but there is never enough time. There is always next visit.
And that was Saturday.
-------
Monday, June 6, 2011
Full sun all day, low flying clouds drifted along their way. Temperature stuck in the 80Fs, but it felt hotter in the fields.
Old Rudolpho is back for the season. He's the patriarch of a Guatemalan family that works on the farm throughout the summer-- in his late 60s he looks the part. When I pulled in this morning I caught sight of him walking up the road to the farm-- red long sleeve, ranchero hat and grey mustache, just like last year. He spends the winter home in Guatemala with family-- 4-5 of his sons and their wives eventually come join him on the farm. As per usual, he forgot english over the winter-- I'm picking up some spanish to fill the gaps.
Bah, Old Rudolpho and I stuck together all day. We started cutting holes in all the plastic wrapped rows and cut right through and after lunch. We started off on the eleven new rows squeezed between the tomato fields and greenhouse area, then we headed over and cut holes in the forest fields where the cantaloupe will be planted tomorrow.
Bah and Old Rudolpho are an interesting work pair. Even in his late 60s, the old Guatemalan has enough experience to make up for the lost vigor. Talking to Old Rudolpho, I understood enough to learn he'd worked on farms his entire life in both Guatemala and the US. Bah mostly works in silence, but this being his first day back, Old Rudolpho chatted monologues and cracked jokes between every hole. My spanish is very bad, but I became the defacto english translator between the old men, as neither one could understand the other's accent.
Bah whipped up a great hole cutting invention over the weekend-- rather than cut out the plastic with a knife, he got a short length of aluminum air duct pipe and serrated the edge of one side (attaching a small handle on the other). So while Old Rudolpho and I slowly sliced our way along, Bah punched out entire rows.
Old Rudolpho was apparently unimpressed with the size of my pocket knife, so he brought me a foot long gutting knife. The Freudian imagery was spoiled when he dropped his on the walk to the forest field and needed the borrowed knife back.
After lunch we finally finished the cantaloupe rows, then Bah and Old Rudolpho took a long break in the shade. They caught up on each others kids and chatted about the 90Fs weather coming later in the week. The hawks were out in force, screeching and circling above us.We sat watching them a while.
We slowly returned to the greenhouse and exchanged our knives for hoes-- then headed out to the lower fields to weed a long bed of beets. The boss and the foreman were rumbling by in tractors all day, tilling and planting the hilltop and lower fields. Late in the afternoon some of Old Rudolpho's kids and grandkids rolled up to the field in a sedan. They leaned on the horn and Old Rudolpho ambled over. He chatted and hugged the little kids for a while before turning back into the fields with me and Bah.
An hour before the day's end the boss brought a van load of lettuce for transplanting. We planted 4 rows of loose leaf and started 4 more of romaine before heading home.
Viking had today off, so Rhode Island was working the shop. All he had to say was-- I hope I don't have to work in the fields when I'm Old Rudolpho's age.
Grunt work all day, but more tomorrow and it's only supposed to get hotter.
Take it easy. Onward farm!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Keep Rowin', Rowin', Rowin'
Cold day today. Sunny, but cold. Full sun all day, but the temperature only crept into the upper 60Fs at noon-- even then you could hardly tell. A crisp wind blew straight through closing.
NYU took today and next week off to go camping in the White Mountains, so the crew this morning was a little lopsided. Rhode Island has been helping around the store until Viking comes in the afternoon, but this was his lucky day. We dragged him shorts, sandals and all into the fields.
We grouped up at the greenhouse and tractor caravaned out to the forest fields-- Rhode Island clinging to the side of the old tractor with the boss, I went with the foreman on the new tractor. We laid out five more lines of drip across the field and wrapped the lot in plastic. Rhode Island is a chatterbox, but he caught on quick enough. Everything went so smoothly, he almost seemed disappointed-- expecting "the fields" to be harder. The foreman and I shared a rare laugh. I don't think Rhode Island has anything to worry about:
The boss confided-- Rhode Island is a tall one, but much too blonde, he'd broil to death after an hour out here.
Finished wrapping, the Boss and Rhode Island returned to the store. Bah, the foreman and I stayed in the forest fields planting a long row of Snapper peppers. We made it about half way through the the row when lunch time swung round.
After lunch, Bah returned through the woods to finish the peppers-- the foreman and I remained behind. The size of the job ahead only occurred to me half way through. Really wished NYU or Rhode Island had stuck around.
We headed to the low end of the tomato fields and started wrapping. This end of the field is nearby a large stream and the height of the water table (the foreman explained) makes irrigation mostly unnecessary. The rows here are a bit shorter, but with just me behind the tractor we wrapped fifteen rows. By the last row I was sweating and leaning hard on the wrapping machine's rigging. We buried all the loose edges and rolled up hill.
At some point the boss tilled over the space between the top edge of the tomato fields and the farm store area-- somehow squeezing in room for eleven more rows. The foreman and I laid eleven drip lines and slowly wrapped them all. Including the easy rows in the morning, we wrapped 31 rows in plastic today.
The day was growing short, but I shambled down to join Bah at the stream rows we wrapped earlier. He already finished planting two rows worth of Sweet Million cherry tomatoes. I sat down and over the course of an hour planted all the Sugar Brix Grape tomatoes. The foreman finally joined us, and we three planted a quick row of Chocolate Cherry tomatoes. It took a long bit of overtime, but only one variety of cherry tomato remains unplanted.
This is an exciting weekend, my girlfriend is coming up to visit (we'll call her Darlin' for now). Last year Darlin' came up, we only poked around the farm store and chatted with Viking. This time we're gonna hike all over and show her the whole mess of farm. I'm hoping she'll catch the farm bug one of these days, she already has a positive disposition towards all of it-- it just takes that little extra step before it really grabs ya (a rainy burning day smoking in an old van, pants soaked though in diesel-- did it for me). Chatted with the boss before leaving, he's heard a lot about Darlin' and is happy to finally meet her. He says-- Gotta see why you're runnin to the city all the time instead of working weekends, he he he. I'm charging up the camera and we'll take a bunch of pictures. Maybe a stolen strawberry or two are in order.
Onward weekend!
NYU took today and next week off to go camping in the White Mountains, so the crew this morning was a little lopsided. Rhode Island has been helping around the store until Viking comes in the afternoon, but this was his lucky day. We dragged him shorts, sandals and all into the fields.
We grouped up at the greenhouse and tractor caravaned out to the forest fields-- Rhode Island clinging to the side of the old tractor with the boss, I went with the foreman on the new tractor. We laid out five more lines of drip across the field and wrapped the lot in plastic. Rhode Island is a chatterbox, but he caught on quick enough. Everything went so smoothly, he almost seemed disappointed-- expecting "the fields" to be harder. The foreman and I shared a rare laugh. I don't think Rhode Island has anything to worry about:
The boss confided-- Rhode Island is a tall one, but much too blonde, he'd broil to death after an hour out here.
Finished wrapping, the Boss and Rhode Island returned to the store. Bah, the foreman and I stayed in the forest fields planting a long row of Snapper peppers. We made it about half way through the the row when lunch time swung round.
After lunch, Bah returned through the woods to finish the peppers-- the foreman and I remained behind. The size of the job ahead only occurred to me half way through. Really wished NYU or Rhode Island had stuck around.
We headed to the low end of the tomato fields and started wrapping. This end of the field is nearby a large stream and the height of the water table (the foreman explained) makes irrigation mostly unnecessary. The rows here are a bit shorter, but with just me behind the tractor we wrapped fifteen rows. By the last row I was sweating and leaning hard on the wrapping machine's rigging. We buried all the loose edges and rolled up hill.
At some point the boss tilled over the space between the top edge of the tomato fields and the farm store area-- somehow squeezing in room for eleven more rows. The foreman and I laid eleven drip lines and slowly wrapped them all. Including the easy rows in the morning, we wrapped 31 rows in plastic today.
The day was growing short, but I shambled down to join Bah at the stream rows we wrapped earlier. He already finished planting two rows worth of Sweet Million cherry tomatoes. I sat down and over the course of an hour planted all the Sugar Brix Grape tomatoes. The foreman finally joined us, and we three planted a quick row of Chocolate Cherry tomatoes. It took a long bit of overtime, but only one variety of cherry tomato remains unplanted.
This is an exciting weekend, my girlfriend is coming up to visit (we'll call her Darlin' for now). Last year Darlin' came up, we only poked around the farm store and chatted with Viking. This time we're gonna hike all over and show her the whole mess of farm. I'm hoping she'll catch the farm bug one of these days, she already has a positive disposition towards all of it-- it just takes that little extra step before it really grabs ya (a rainy burning day smoking in an old van, pants soaked though in diesel-- did it for me). Chatted with the boss before leaving, he's heard a lot about Darlin' and is happy to finally meet her. He says-- Gotta see why you're runnin to the city all the time instead of working weekends, he he he. I'm charging up the camera and we'll take a bunch of pictures. Maybe a stolen strawberry or two are in order.
Onward weekend!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Helga
Wild weather following behind the storm. The farm survived another day-- no tornadoes, even the wind wasn't a problem, but the rain caused a good deal of soil erosion and flooding in some fields and around the streams. The day started sunny with hardly a cloud up in the sky. Somewhere in the early afternoon the wind really picked up and larger dark cloud fronts passed over. The temperature has steadily dropped from mid 70Fs in the morning, to the lower 60Fs. So far no rain, but the boss heard it's suppose to drop into the 40Fs over night (ugh).
When I came into the greenhouse this morning the boss handed me a shovel and lead me around back. We rummaged through a pile of home-welded iron raspberry trellises-- picking out the ten best. I packed them into the waiting tractor and we headed off to meet the boss's brother in the far raspberry rows in the lower fields. The boss's brother was nice enough to lend a hand and his tractor auger. He drilled 4ft deep holes on each end of the 5 rows. I dropped in the trellis posts and foreman helped me bury/stamp the soil around them into place. On each post is attached an iron cross bar with holes drilled at each end-- eventually we'll run wire or string from end to end to keep the long raspberry canes off the ground and out of the travel lanes. I bent these crossbars back into shape with an enormous monkey wrench.
Back at the farm the foreman and I joined NYU on damage duty. The tomato field was hit particularly hard by the storm-- the lower rows along the slope were nearly entirely covered over in sediment. A good number of tomatoes had the soil eroded ringht out from under them by the water run off. We marched through the 20 rows reburying loose plastic and hunting for lost tomatoes. Surprisingly, I found most of the lost plants and returned them to their positions. The terrible shape of the field really hit NYU hard, several times I caught him shaking his head saying-- we worked so hard planting these guys.
I can relate, but it could have been much, much worse.
In a past life, the foreman studied some geology before swearing off college of any type. Some of the lessons apparently stuck home, as he gave me a crash course in erosion mechanics. With the tomato field returned to some semblance of normality, we marked off the locations where the water and soil flowing downhill was worst. We dug a series of trenches in between the tomato rows, about a foot or two deep. The foreman explained that water runoff is a time game-- the earlier and longer you can canal the current the better. Given preparations before erosion begins, you can redirect water to places with less damage potential-- i.e. shift the trickle before it becomes a river. Trenches also provide a degree of fail safe, water can collect and some will absorb rather pour downhill. The soil we dug was still a muddy sludge cake, but we finished repairs in time for a late lunch.
When we got back, NYU and I linked into a chore team. The boss gave us a list: hand fertilize the chard, loose leaf lettuce, romaine and two beds of bok choi; transplant a trays worth of swiss chard into the existing rows filling the gaps where previous plants died off; plant sunflowers; weed the jungle that leaped up around the broccoli rabe and spinach bed. NYU is a good guy, working with him is easy-- we chat and bullshit our way through the day. We put on latex gloves to spread the 46% nitrogen fertilizer (this stuff burns your hands without protection). With buckets full we walked the field lengths casting a light pellet drizzle. Talked over the city, girlfriends, food, the farm, the boss and camping. Somewhere between the chard and bok choi, we remembered back to laying the plastic rows in the tomato fields last week. At that time the boss kept repeating a little jingle over and over as we worked behind the tractor, he'd say-- Pack it tight boys, tight like Helga Von Eisentight. We chuckled over that one and cast a couple handfuls out for Helga.
We quickly replanted the gaps in the chard, then we got working on the sunflowers. The boss wanted a row along the stone wall by the road in the lower fields, then more planted all around the farm store. On our way back to the store we took a detour through the strawberry fields. The berries are developing very quickly, we found one or two that had gone fully red-- these we ate, firsts of the season.
Weeding the jungle took the rest of the day and was still left unfinished. We should have taken care of it last week when the weeds were still tiny, but planting trumps all other tasks. Bah came to join the weeding, but even with three of us the going was slow. The wind really started to howl, the trees bent over with a few big gusts. An enormous military propeller plane flew low overhead checking out the clouds-- we decided it must be with the National Guard deployed in state to help with the storm aftermath. At least 3 big tornadoes were confirmed today, several people died out west and hundreds of homes were leveled. At lunch the woman on the radio said it was a miracle given the destruction that so few people were injured.
We ran out of the fields right at closing, the wind was too much.
It occurred to me this morning just how much I forget to write about. I'd say about 1/3 of the things we do in a day get lost down the memory hole. What reminded me was laying the trellises-- nearby were the broccoli and cauliflower rows I helped Bah and NYU plant last week. A few days back the boss went to check on them and maybe 1/4-1/3 of the crop had been eaten by vermin. He was furious. That same day we covered the entirety of these fields with gauze cloth staked to the ground. The cloth is thin and airy enough for the plants beneath to breath, but strong and complete enough to keep the critters from getting underneath. Anyway, seeing the rows covered in cloth reminded me off how much I forget to mention on any given day.
Exciting couple days ahead and I have a few ideas that might play out-- we'll see!
More tomorrow! (More pictures coming)
When I came into the greenhouse this morning the boss handed me a shovel and lead me around back. We rummaged through a pile of home-welded iron raspberry trellises-- picking out the ten best. I packed them into the waiting tractor and we headed off to meet the boss's brother in the far raspberry rows in the lower fields. The boss's brother was nice enough to lend a hand and his tractor auger. He drilled 4ft deep holes on each end of the 5 rows. I dropped in the trellis posts and foreman helped me bury/stamp the soil around them into place. On each post is attached an iron cross bar with holes drilled at each end-- eventually we'll run wire or string from end to end to keep the long raspberry canes off the ground and out of the travel lanes. I bent these crossbars back into shape with an enormous monkey wrench.
Back at the farm the foreman and I joined NYU on damage duty. The tomato field was hit particularly hard by the storm-- the lower rows along the slope were nearly entirely covered over in sediment. A good number of tomatoes had the soil eroded ringht out from under them by the water run off. We marched through the 20 rows reburying loose plastic and hunting for lost tomatoes. Surprisingly, I found most of the lost plants and returned them to their positions. The terrible shape of the field really hit NYU hard, several times I caught him shaking his head saying-- we worked so hard planting these guys.
I can relate, but it could have been much, much worse.
In a past life, the foreman studied some geology before swearing off college of any type. Some of the lessons apparently stuck home, as he gave me a crash course in erosion mechanics. With the tomato field returned to some semblance of normality, we marked off the locations where the water and soil flowing downhill was worst. We dug a series of trenches in between the tomato rows, about a foot or two deep. The foreman explained that water runoff is a time game-- the earlier and longer you can canal the current the better. Given preparations before erosion begins, you can redirect water to places with less damage potential-- i.e. shift the trickle before it becomes a river. Trenches also provide a degree of fail safe, water can collect and some will absorb rather pour downhill. The soil we dug was still a muddy sludge cake, but we finished repairs in time for a late lunch.
When we got back, NYU and I linked into a chore team. The boss gave us a list: hand fertilize the chard, loose leaf lettuce, romaine and two beds of bok choi; transplant a trays worth of swiss chard into the existing rows filling the gaps where previous plants died off; plant sunflowers; weed the jungle that leaped up around the broccoli rabe and spinach bed. NYU is a good guy, working with him is easy-- we chat and bullshit our way through the day. We put on latex gloves to spread the 46% nitrogen fertilizer (this stuff burns your hands without protection). With buckets full we walked the field lengths casting a light pellet drizzle. Talked over the city, girlfriends, food, the farm, the boss and camping. Somewhere between the chard and bok choi, we remembered back to laying the plastic rows in the tomato fields last week. At that time the boss kept repeating a little jingle over and over as we worked behind the tractor, he'd say-- Pack it tight boys, tight like Helga Von Eisentight. We chuckled over that one and cast a couple handfuls out for Helga.
We quickly replanted the gaps in the chard, then we got working on the sunflowers. The boss wanted a row along the stone wall by the road in the lower fields, then more planted all around the farm store. On our way back to the store we took a detour through the strawberry fields. The berries are developing very quickly, we found one or two that had gone fully red-- these we ate, firsts of the season.
Weeding the jungle took the rest of the day and was still left unfinished. We should have taken care of it last week when the weeds were still tiny, but planting trumps all other tasks. Bah came to join the weeding, but even with three of us the going was slow. The wind really started to howl, the trees bent over with a few big gusts. An enormous military propeller plane flew low overhead checking out the clouds-- we decided it must be with the National Guard deployed in state to help with the storm aftermath. At least 3 big tornadoes were confirmed today, several people died out west and hundreds of homes were leveled. At lunch the woman on the radio said it was a miracle given the destruction that so few people were injured.
We ran out of the fields right at closing, the wind was too much.
It occurred to me this morning just how much I forget to write about. I'd say about 1/3 of the things we do in a day get lost down the memory hole. What reminded me was laying the trellises-- nearby were the broccoli and cauliflower rows I helped Bah and NYU plant last week. A few days back the boss went to check on them and maybe 1/4-1/3 of the crop had been eaten by vermin. He was furious. That same day we covered the entirety of these fields with gauze cloth staked to the ground. The cloth is thin and airy enough for the plants beneath to breath, but strong and complete enough to keep the critters from getting underneath. Anyway, seeing the rows covered in cloth reminded me off how much I forget to mention on any given day.
Exciting couple days ahead and I have a few ideas that might play out-- we'll see!
More tomorrow! (More pictures coming)
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
On the Storm
A wild day of weather. I'll start here with the morning-- hazy and hot-- full sun most of the day. Temperature stuck in a humid mid 80Fs.
What a day. Hoofed it down to the greenhouse this morning to meet the boss. Everything was ready, the foreman arrived early and hitched up the pepper wagon to the tractor. NYU and I hopped in with the peppers and we took off for the forest fields. The boss drove Bah up to join us and we set down for a pepper lesson.
Ideally, peppers need to be buried up to their "condalital" (spelling?) leaf. These are the first leaves which develop as the seed sprouts. Up the stem from these are the "true leaves" the first 2 leaves of the actual pepper plant. We planned 2 rows of peppers (spaced 18inches) per bed-- with three 500 yard beds.
In retrospect, most of today was spent sweating through grunt work. From start to about 3pm, we planted every peppers we could fit. All the Ace, Super Shepherd and most of the Red Knight (2 trays left) filled the field. It was a hot day-- fortunately, the boss carted us water periodically.
While we finished the last row of peppers, the boss cut a trench through the center of the future cucumber row and sprayed pesticide (with a hand pump) down the field's length. I took a hoe and turned an inch or so of soil over the line of spray. With the pepper planting completed, the boss and foreman took off. Bah, NYU and I were left to seed the cucumbers. Forming a terrible conga line, Bah drilled periodic holes with the stick end of a shovel while NYU and I marched behind, alternating between dropping seeds and covering them with soil. We polished off the planting none too quickly.
Exhausted, we slumped down the hill path-- taking our damn time getting back to the store. When we finally arrived, things started getting interesting. All day, and through lunch, we'd been whispering among ourselves about the storm coming. This is same storm front that wiped out towns in Missouri-- we were all tense. NYU and I milled about relaxing and gossiping with Viking, until the boss called us to toss a final round of soil about the tomato plants.
More plants have been damaged and I may have found the culprit-- found one the other day, but today I pulled a Colorado Potato Beetle off a tomato plant. He'd cut clean through the stem and was chomping away at the inner layers. I brought him up to the farm store and Viking took a picture. She wouldn't let me bag him in the freezer for the boss to see-- no one wants to be plastic wrapped and deep freezed she said-- so I took him out back and flicked him against a wall when she wasn't looking.
The clouds to the north were looking bleak and grey. Mid-way through a tomato row, lightning cut across the sky. NYU and I bolted out from the field. Dark clouds were rolling over the peach orchard's crest. The foreman rumbled back in the new tractor-- we formed an assembly line leading into the greenhouse and arranged all the trays of unplanted peppers, tomatoes and cherry tomatoes inside. Left outdoors in their trays all these guys could easily drown or wash away with heavy rains. We frantic-ed about closing up and battering down the greenhouse. Viking helped us out and kept an ear on the radio-- shouting down updates from out west: tornado warnings, funnels spotted, then 3 tornado touch downs, then 4 more getting closer and closer to the farm. We ran around the store bringing everything light and loose inside. The boss was off checking on something or maybe called it an early day-- either way he was gone, but we had everything covered.
With the coming storm the temperature dropped 15 degrees into the comfortable 60Fs. Strong wind gusts and fat rain drops started slowly then picked up into a torrent.
NYU cut out early to get home, but the foreman, Viking and I sat under an overhang watching the storm come in. Lightning touched down all around the horizon as we chatted away. If the storm doesn't hit too badly Viking wanted to go buy manure to fertilize her home gardens. -- The foreman told us about working on an organic farm a few years back. They raised chickens and after slaughter they made a blood meal and feather meal to fertilize the soil. The foreman said the smell wasn't as bad as excrement, but it looked terrible and creeped him out. Thunder banged overhead and we all went our separate ways home.
Most of the tornado threats have passed now, lots of sightings nearby but my house is safe. It's still pouring rain, but that's fine-- the crops need it. Thunder is still banging and ripping overhead-- but less so than an hour ago. From home I can still see black clouds heading in the farm's direction. We'll see what state the crops are in tomorrow. I'm draining out the tub as I write, filled it up just to be safe-- ya never know.
As an aside-- my grapes are going nowhere slowly. I talked to Viking and she researched the matter. The seeds I have apparently take forever to germinate. Instead she recommended cutting a section of roots and vine from an established plant, spraying it with a growth hormone, and then transplant. She's preparing a bunch of the same variety for herself and offered to bring me some. Viking has given me so many plants and seeds already, but I accepted. We'll see how it goes.
Onward aftermath!
What a day. Hoofed it down to the greenhouse this morning to meet the boss. Everything was ready, the foreman arrived early and hitched up the pepper wagon to the tractor. NYU and I hopped in with the peppers and we took off for the forest fields. The boss drove Bah up to join us and we set down for a pepper lesson.
Ideally, peppers need to be buried up to their "condalital" (spelling?) leaf. These are the first leaves which develop as the seed sprouts. Up the stem from these are the "true leaves" the first 2 leaves of the actual pepper plant. We planned 2 rows of peppers (spaced 18inches) per bed-- with three 500 yard beds.
In retrospect, most of today was spent sweating through grunt work. From start to about 3pm, we planted every peppers we could fit. All the Ace, Super Shepherd and most of the Red Knight (2 trays left) filled the field. It was a hot day-- fortunately, the boss carted us water periodically.
While we finished the last row of peppers, the boss cut a trench through the center of the future cucumber row and sprayed pesticide (with a hand pump) down the field's length. I took a hoe and turned an inch or so of soil over the line of spray. With the pepper planting completed, the boss and foreman took off. Bah, NYU and I were left to seed the cucumbers. Forming a terrible conga line, Bah drilled periodic holes with the stick end of a shovel while NYU and I marched behind, alternating between dropping seeds and covering them with soil. We polished off the planting none too quickly.
Exhausted, we slumped down the hill path-- taking our damn time getting back to the store. When we finally arrived, things started getting interesting. All day, and through lunch, we'd been whispering among ourselves about the storm coming. This is same storm front that wiped out towns in Missouri-- we were all tense. NYU and I milled about relaxing and gossiping with Viking, until the boss called us to toss a final round of soil about the tomato plants.
More plants have been damaged and I may have found the culprit-- found one the other day, but today I pulled a Colorado Potato Beetle off a tomato plant. He'd cut clean through the stem and was chomping away at the inner layers. I brought him up to the farm store and Viking took a picture. She wouldn't let me bag him in the freezer for the boss to see-- no one wants to be plastic wrapped and deep freezed she said-- so I took him out back and flicked him against a wall when she wasn't looking.
The clouds to the north were looking bleak and grey. Mid-way through a tomato row, lightning cut across the sky. NYU and I bolted out from the field. Dark clouds were rolling over the peach orchard's crest. The foreman rumbled back in the new tractor-- we formed an assembly line leading into the greenhouse and arranged all the trays of unplanted peppers, tomatoes and cherry tomatoes inside. Left outdoors in their trays all these guys could easily drown or wash away with heavy rains. We frantic-ed about closing up and battering down the greenhouse. Viking helped us out and kept an ear on the radio-- shouting down updates from out west: tornado warnings, funnels spotted, then 3 tornado touch downs, then 4 more getting closer and closer to the farm. We ran around the store bringing everything light and loose inside. The boss was off checking on something or maybe called it an early day-- either way he was gone, but we had everything covered.
With the coming storm the temperature dropped 15 degrees into the comfortable 60Fs. Strong wind gusts and fat rain drops started slowly then picked up into a torrent.
NYU cut out early to get home, but the foreman, Viking and I sat under an overhang watching the storm come in. Lightning touched down all around the horizon as we chatted away. If the storm doesn't hit too badly Viking wanted to go buy manure to fertilize her home gardens. -- The foreman told us about working on an organic farm a few years back. They raised chickens and after slaughter they made a blood meal and feather meal to fertilize the soil. The foreman said the smell wasn't as bad as excrement, but it looked terrible and creeped him out. Thunder banged overhead and we all went our separate ways home.
Most of the tornado threats have passed now, lots of sightings nearby but my house is safe. It's still pouring rain, but that's fine-- the crops need it. Thunder is still banging and ripping overhead-- but less so than an hour ago. From home I can still see black clouds heading in the farm's direction. We'll see what state the crops are in tomorrow. I'm draining out the tub as I write, filled it up just to be safe-- ya never know.
As an aside-- my grapes are going nowhere slowly. I talked to Viking and she researched the matter. The seeds I have apparently take forever to germinate. Instead she recommended cutting a section of roots and vine from an established plant, spraying it with a growth hormone, and then transplant. She's preparing a bunch of the same variety for herself and offered to bring me some. Viking has given me so many plants and seeds already, but I accepted. We'll see how it goes.
Onward aftermath!
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