No clouds, just sun. A hazy heat-- temperature stuck at 94F all day.
The foreman's friend, Newport, is finally back. Working with the two of 'em last year was tough-- they laid into me hard. But ever since I graduated into an 'old hand' we're thick as thieves. Newport is a fast talker-- the sort of guy whose sarcasm and fast wit make him impossible to read. He'll bullshit and chew the high school kids to bits with a mock-grin, then look me in the eye and say he's been chomping at the bit all spring to get back to the farm and put on a good sweat. And I gotta hand it to him, he's unstoppable with a hoe (or without one)-- the way he works is worth 3-4 of the summer help. So all morning he griped over the boss-- how could he hire a new guy and all the summer kids without bring him on first? --July is a late of a start.
NYU got the van all packed up then he and the boss took off for the big money market. I got out the trimmer, cleaned it over and mixed up the gasoline/oil (its a two-stroke engine). Big Boy, the new kid, followed Stretch and me up to the forest fields-- we reconnected the artery and laid a line of water guns between the basil and 2 new beds of beets the foreman planted. We headed down to the lower fields and connected up a line through the lettuce/through the mowed down strawberries, then double checked the drip line connections. I sent Big Boys and Stretch back to the forest field to get a start on weeding the summer squash and zucchini. The surviving squash/zucchini have grown enormous and some are already big enough to pick-- maybe even later this week.
I ran over to the horse pond and helped Newport/the foreman start up the water pump (the old tractor doesn't have a functioning fuel gauge, so we check the diesel level by popping off the gas cap and dropping in a long stick). The suction wasn't holding at first, so we jabbed the pump gasket with the fuel stick a few times. Started without a problem. The foreman and Newport headed off to the lower fields to check the water guns, while I dealt with the forest lines.
Irrigation was running A+. I picked up the trimmer from the farm store then headed back to the forest fields. Newport was up giving Stretch and Big Boy a hand on the weeding, so things were looking pretty good. I fired up the trimmer and sawed down the weeds/grass encroaching on the ends of each long row. At the side of the forest field are a few pine trees amid a meadow that creeps up the hill and down to some far off houses. The meadow's grasses and wild mustard weeds have begun to climb into the walking paths--inching toward the squash. So I got the string spinning and fought it back into place. Big Boy was melting in the heat, but Stretch and Newport kept on like leather men. Lunch came quickly.
After lunch Viking lined us all up for some administrating, we all filled out our work/tax papers in the air conditioned kitchen. We grabbed hoes and headed back up to the forest fields with some tall orders-- weed around the plants and along the plastic edges of the remaining squash, then the cucumbers and eggplants. So we got to it. A few hours in the foreman came up with the tractor to lay plastic. Big Boy and I helped him out, but the spool of plastic wrap ended just shy of 1 row-- so that was that.
The foreman came back a few hours later and we all took a long break in the shade. Big Boy and Stretch went on a water refill run, so the foreman, Newport and I had a few cigarettes and joked around. Break over-- the foreman brought out a big bag of urea: a pure nitrogen fertilizer. We poured it into a bucket and he gave me very careful instructions-- this stuff is potent. I peppered the pellets lightly, 1 foot around each cucumber plant-- but carefully, as a pellet can burn/kill a plant if it comes in direct contact with the stem or leaves. I started spreading without gloves, but the foreman brought me a plastic bag he found by the road side to wrap my hand. I inched my way down the two rows of cucumbers at a snail pace.
I finished a few minutes before closing time, right as the boys finished one of the eggplant rows (1 1/2 remaining). Newport decided the day was done and we all hiked back. I watered up the wagon load of seedlings, then headed out.
On the way home I stopped at a new beer store that's been growing on me. Talked a long time with the owner about his chickens. He currently has 9 hens who lay an egg about every 28hrs-- so usually 7 or so eggs a day. He has never had much trouble with foxes or fisher cats, but as he said-- the biggest problem is in the winter, with all the leaves fallen from the trees my chickens are completely exposed, i've probably lost 20 chickens in the past 10 years to the hawks, they just swoop down and that's the end of it.
State of the plants:
Corn-- grown a foot a week, now they've reached +6ft and begun sexing. The male tassels have completely emerged and the female silk has developed a light reddish brown color. (I'm only talking about the early planting, the late summer/fall fields have a long way to go) Just a matter of time now.
Summer Squash/Zucchini-- I'd lost track of these rows since the vermin incidents, but they've grown up to 3ft tall and maybe 4ft wide. Their meaty orange/yellow flowers are in full bloom, but many have progressed to fruit. I saw a good many foot long zucchinis ready to pick today. The summer squash is right in step, but their fruit needs a little more time to develop.
String beans-- Well weeded and ready to go. The plants are heavy with beans-- picking begins tomorrow (?).
Tomatoes-- They are really cooking, the plants are full bushes now. Every plant has a good couple dozen green tomatoes inching through their green. I'd wager another 1-3 weeks. The trellised cherries have wrapped their way up another foot and a half-- Bah and Rudolpho's crew pruned them back and adjusted the lines last week. The bunches of cherry tomatoes are looking good.
Potatoes-- the boss pulled a few on Monday to check their progress-- they've grown from the size of the little finger's nail into door knobs. I don't know what the boss's plans are-- maybe in a few weeks we'll start to pull a few bushels worth as the rest grow to full size. Then again, we might just wait for August.
Basil-- Has hit full size, some have even begun to flower (which needs to be fixed, i.e. snipped off). If the boss is on his game maybe we'll trim a few dozen bushels for this week's CSA.
Eggplant-- Still has a ways to go. 1-2 feet tall, definitely not strong enough to even carry their fruits' weight.
Peppers-- The plants are a bit over 2 feet tall now and have grown many different layers of leaves. Marching between rows while weeding, I noticed a good number of little green peppers (maybe 1-3 inches long).
Cucumbers-- The plants are looking a lot more healthy-- their runner vines have begun to creep out over the plastic wrap. Still, only a few blossoms have flowered out. A while yet to go.
Cantaloupe-- The plants themselves are getting enormous, spreading vines out in all directions. Spotted a good number of flowers in bloom.
Pumpkins-- Just getting established, its a long time until October.
Lettuce-- We are in a bit of a fix this week, stuck between fields. I doubt the next round will be big enough for CSA this week-- but I've been wrong before. The following round is hardly visible from a distance-- the seedlings are still getting acclimated to the field. There is still some romaine left in the previous round-- mangy looking and not nearly enough to meet CSA demands.
Arugula-- All chopped last week, but we were careful to leave a good 2 inches of stem and ground leaves so they will grow out for another round. The boss is enamored with the stuff. High demand, easy to grow, 2 crops, cheap seeds and sell for a great price. I bet that even after the hilltop rows run dry, we'll plant/cut many more rows before the season is over.
Beets-- Some of the mid-spring rows are getting fat-- their leaves finally bulking up. With the recent heat the new beets are coming at a much faster pace. I haven't pulled any test beets, so for all I know we could have some bushels this week at CSA.
Spinach-- This year hasn't been kind to our spinach. It's grown slim and slowly. The rows on the hilltop have been the only full success so far.
Bok Choi-- Now that the 'interesting' summer berries and veggies are coming out the demand for choi has dipped. After Stretch and I cut the most of the 3 rows last week-- nothing new has been planted (to my knowledge). There might be enough still to cover one CSA week.
Broccoli Rabe-- Same as choi, except even less demand.
Broccoli/Cauliflower-- No idea. Since the raspberries hit it is as though everyone forgot about 'em. Although, after the vermin ravaged the field things were looking very bleak. We have 5-6 trays (each) of cauliflower/brussel sprouts growing out on the wagon. 15 trays of broccoli are inching along, still in the greenhouse. We have 6-8 trays of cabbage that look fantastic (it doesn't get its own little section as no one but me seems to care about cabbage).
I posted pictures of the berries on the last picture day-- so just imagine more berries with deeper colors. The strawberries (except for the day neurtals, which haven't started yet) are done. The blueberries have begun-- big and blue. Strangely, none have been picked yet-- just too much needs to be done.
I'm forgetting a lot here-- maybe another picture day is necessary.
Darlin' is coming up to visit this weekend-- pictures might be part of the festivities.
Here's hoping for more hot growing days.
Take it easy.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Reverse
Not a cloud in the sky. Temperature danced between 88-91F.
Hard morning to wake up-- a good buddy of mine came to visit last night and we slugged through all of our old cheapo bars ($1 beers is a beautiful thing). My friend has joined up with a traveling theater troop for the spring/summer-- but once he gets back we'll see if he can lend a hand with the fall harvest. I'm gonna have to type today out fast-- me and the good buddy are going for a one night road trip out to hear our mutual friend ("Pipes") sing. She can really belt a tune, that's a fact. Unfortunately she lives far across state, so its a drive (a very long drive after a few beers).
(Also, I flaked out on Saturday. Waking up-- the body just wasn't willing. Sometimes ya just gotta take a break.)
Watered up the greenhouse first thing. The boss drove the tractor around and dropped off the wagon-- it's getting too hot beneath the plastic for the seedlings, so Stretch and I carried all the biggish trays out of the greenhouse and set them on the wagon to air out. The boss was gonna be busy running around with the crew so he gave me a list of things to get done. 1-- I took the trimmer and hacked down the tall weeds growing at the ends of every tomato row, then mowed all the weeds/field grown up around and burying the irrigation artery. 2-- Set end plugs into all the drip lines going through the tomato fields. 3-- Aligned the head-line for the tomatoes' drip, stuffed in the nozzles for the lines to attach and plugged up the damaged parts.
Right before lunch Rhode Island got himself into a world of trouble. The wholesaler had arrived for a produce pick-up, but the van was in the way. So Rhode Island went to move it. Apparently he isn't very good at driving-- somehow he managed to roll down the hill towards the greenhouse (front-ways first), but with the van shifted into reverse. Needless to say, the van can no longer go in reverse anymore. The van is old, but the boss was still ready to kill him. Then off to lunch.
After lunch I met Stretch and Mouse in the store to watch the Blackberry-Man. I've heard a lot about him-- he calls the farm incessantly to check on the blackberries. Also, he's always sure to ask if he can sleep in the field so he can be with the berries. The boss always says no (though I wonder if he let the guy try it once or twice in the past). Blackberry-Man has longish grey hair and a grey beard. He stripped down to his shorts in the gravel parking lot and took out his special berry basket. Rhode Island has long since lost patience with the man. The boss told me-- Blackberry-Man is homeless, but is looked after occasionally by his kids. Stretch and Mouse said that the man is a local celebrity in town-- the story goes: he made a fortune (millions on millions of dollars), but grew sick of himself. Once his kids moved out, he sold his house and lived on the streets ever since-- owning nothing more than the clothes on his back. Whatever the truth may be, he really loves our blackberries (maybe to the point of concern).
Blackberry-Man went on his way, Stretch and I did the same. We grabbed our hoes and headed down to the lower fields to get weeding the string-bean rows. The string beans are out, long and ready to be picked-- the boss plans to get Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew started on them tomorrow. The peas have run dry, no more for now-- so the foreman has been busy. He rotor-ed down all the pea rows (he accidentally killed all the fava beans too, despite them having a few good weeks left), and mowed down all the strawberries planted last year (who've stopped producing for the season). We weeded away the rest of the day.
An hour before closing the foreman called me out of the fields. Over the weekend the boss had several pieces of the water pump welded and had the water gate leading to the forest field professionally fixed. So the two of us put everything back in order-- we muscled and reattached the water gate, the reassembled the water pump and replaced its faulty gasket. In thanks, the foreman came out and helped us finished weeding the beans.
At closing time I watered up all the seedlings on the wagon and picked up some eggs for home. Waved good-bye to Blackberry-Man (who was still out there) and then headed out.
Well it's about time for me to get on the road. I've been bottling up weeks worth of plant talk, so be forewarned-- tomorrow might be a plant-geek spill over day.
On to Pipes.
Hard morning to wake up-- a good buddy of mine came to visit last night and we slugged through all of our old cheapo bars ($1 beers is a beautiful thing). My friend has joined up with a traveling theater troop for the spring/summer-- but once he gets back we'll see if he can lend a hand with the fall harvest. I'm gonna have to type today out fast-- me and the good buddy are going for a one night road trip out to hear our mutual friend ("Pipes") sing. She can really belt a tune, that's a fact. Unfortunately she lives far across state, so its a drive (a very long drive after a few beers).
(Also, I flaked out on Saturday. Waking up-- the body just wasn't willing. Sometimes ya just gotta take a break.)
Watered up the greenhouse first thing. The boss drove the tractor around and dropped off the wagon-- it's getting too hot beneath the plastic for the seedlings, so Stretch and I carried all the biggish trays out of the greenhouse and set them on the wagon to air out. The boss was gonna be busy running around with the crew so he gave me a list of things to get done. 1-- I took the trimmer and hacked down the tall weeds growing at the ends of every tomato row, then mowed all the weeds/field grown up around and burying the irrigation artery. 2-- Set end plugs into all the drip lines going through the tomato fields. 3-- Aligned the head-line for the tomatoes' drip, stuffed in the nozzles for the lines to attach and plugged up the damaged parts.
Right before lunch Rhode Island got himself into a world of trouble. The wholesaler had arrived for a produce pick-up, but the van was in the way. So Rhode Island went to move it. Apparently he isn't very good at driving-- somehow he managed to roll down the hill towards the greenhouse (front-ways first), but with the van shifted into reverse. Needless to say, the van can no longer go in reverse anymore. The van is old, but the boss was still ready to kill him. Then off to lunch.
After lunch I met Stretch and Mouse in the store to watch the Blackberry-Man. I've heard a lot about him-- he calls the farm incessantly to check on the blackberries. Also, he's always sure to ask if he can sleep in the field so he can be with the berries. The boss always says no (though I wonder if he let the guy try it once or twice in the past). Blackberry-Man has longish grey hair and a grey beard. He stripped down to his shorts in the gravel parking lot and took out his special berry basket. Rhode Island has long since lost patience with the man. The boss told me-- Blackberry-Man is homeless, but is looked after occasionally by his kids. Stretch and Mouse said that the man is a local celebrity in town-- the story goes: he made a fortune (millions on millions of dollars), but grew sick of himself. Once his kids moved out, he sold his house and lived on the streets ever since-- owning nothing more than the clothes on his back. Whatever the truth may be, he really loves our blackberries (maybe to the point of concern).
Blackberry-Man went on his way, Stretch and I did the same. We grabbed our hoes and headed down to the lower fields to get weeding the string-bean rows. The string beans are out, long and ready to be picked-- the boss plans to get Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew started on them tomorrow. The peas have run dry, no more for now-- so the foreman has been busy. He rotor-ed down all the pea rows (he accidentally killed all the fava beans too, despite them having a few good weeks left), and mowed down all the strawberries planted last year (who've stopped producing for the season). We weeded away the rest of the day.
An hour before closing the foreman called me out of the fields. Over the weekend the boss had several pieces of the water pump welded and had the water gate leading to the forest field professionally fixed. So the two of us put everything back in order-- we muscled and reattached the water gate, the reassembled the water pump and replaced its faulty gasket. In thanks, the foreman came out and helped us finished weeding the beans.
At closing time I watered up all the seedlings on the wagon and picked up some eggs for home. Waved good-bye to Blackberry-Man (who was still out there) and then headed out.
Well it's about time for me to get on the road. I've been bottling up weeks worth of plant talk, so be forewarned-- tomorrow might be a plant-geek spill over day.
On to Pipes.
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Women of Guatemala
Heavy thunderstorms woke me early this morning. Rained until noon-- then a heavy heat sunk in. It actually dried up for a few hours until the monsoon rains swept up from the southwest. Temperature was in the upper 60Fs with the rain-- during the dry spell it rose to 82F.
No time for the greenhouse this morning, jogged out and over to hitch a wagon full of pipes up with the boss's tractor. NYU and Stretch hopped into the van and I drove us up to the hilltop to meet the boss. We hid from the rain in the van until the tractor made it up the hill. We unloaded/organized the pipes in the meadow where the foreman mowed over some turkey nests. The boss took the empty wagon back down to the greenhouse to get started on the real work-- we followed in the van.
Today's rain caught the boss off guard. None of the weather services predicted anything of this sort until it was already pouring. There isn't much you can pick in the rain-- wet berries mold like lightning once separated from the plant, and everything else goes much slower to the point its just not worth picking. But so long as the soil isn't flooded (it wasn't), rain is the perfect time to transplant as the sun wont dry out the delicate plants' roots. So we started loading up the wagon with the late summer/fall tomatoes with Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew. Put up the Rose, Purple Cherokees, Moskvich, Purple Prudence, Striped German, Red Pear and a few others I've forgotten. We left the Sugar Gold cherries in the greenhouse-- the boss wants to set up some proper rows for them.
Our super crew (Bah, Old Rudolpho, Daughter-in-law #1, Daughter-in-law #2, Stretch, NYU and myself) marched up the hill to the empty section beside the late season corn recently planted. The foreman quickly drove out a travel lane with the old tractor, then lowered a trenching tool he'd hitched up to drag out 10 tomato rows. With the surprise weather we didn't have the opportunity to wrap the fields in plastic or anything, but the boss didn't seem concerned. Sometimes you just got to do what the weather says, whether you're ready or not.
We planted in the mud and rain. We spaced the plants 2ft apart, along the foreman's trenches. The daughter-in-laws are extremely wary of us-- they speak a small bit of english (only with the boss), but keep to spanish otherwise. They're heavy set women-- dressed in jean pants and jean jackets, with their hair up in red bandannas or tucked under straw conical hats (like Bah's). They talk very loud and constantly, shooting the breeze and arguing-- occasionally Old Rudolpho drawls in a sentence or a short story. Except when one of my idiot boys (or me) come around. Then the daughter-in-laws stop talking and stare them down. Our crew hasn't worked with them much this season.
As we progressed down the field, things got a little difficult-- NYU grilled the women over their tomato placement/spacing/how many plants left in their trays. Rather than him fixing anything, the crew (Bah, Old Rudolpho and the daughter-in-laws) started getting really confused. Confused means slow-- and it was raining too hard for slow. So I went to the wagon and bunched up all the tomatoes in their planting order, cut a length of rope to the proper plant spacing, took my trowel-- then settled the matter myself. I got out in front of the crew and started digging. Figured they could deal with taking the plants from the trays and planting them in the holes I made. I worked at a lunatic's pace-- measure, dig, measure, dig. All the way down the line as they followed in with the plants behind. Things started moving much faster. The daughter-in-laws must have found me hilarious, as they laughed their heads off and called after me-- como gato (or something similar).
We planted through 8 long rows quick. By lunch time all but 2 tomato varieties were in the ground. Bah called the time, and we all sloshed down the hill.
Over lunch the boss took NYU home to change out of his mud-soaked clothes so he could run the CSA clean and comfortable. The Bah and Old Rudolpho's gang headed up hill to finish off the tomato planting. Stretch and I seeded 4 of the unplanted plastic wrapped rows by the greenhouse with squash (2 rows summer squash, 2 rows zucchini). We finished the summer squash rows fine, but we ran out of seeds (eventually there will be 5 rows of zucchini planted here). The rain had died down over lunch, so things were getting a bit dryer as we helped NYU set up for the CSA. Today we had: last strawberries, raspberries, romaine lettuce, rabe, chard, red boar and dinosaur kale, snap peas, sweet shelling peas, zucchini (from friend's farm), bok choi, spinach (also from friend's farm) and arugula.
Things got dry enough that the boss sent me and Stretch up to pick the first raspberries from the rows at the far slope of the hilltop (where NYU and I spent a long time weeding/pounding trellises/tying wire). The boss came with us to sample the berries-- every one of the 6 raspberry fields are different varieties, but the the berries in this field are the boss's favorite. They have a much sweeter/stronger taste. (We do the different raspberry varieties as a means of balancing the risks of growing/pests/weather on the berry crop.) The rows were as red as they were green-- the wires were bent beneath the berries' weight. Stretch and I picked along for a while before Bah, Old Rudolpho and company came to join us. The picking was fast and easy, we filled several trays quickly.
As we worked the southern skies started to turn real dark. I called up the boss to give him fair warning-- I've already mentioned how bad water is for fresh picked berries. We picked faster and faster-- it was a shame to leave these raspberries to the weather. Some were so big, ripe and swollen that they'd nearly popped themselves from their stems. When the rain hit, it built up real quick. I ran down the row and threw my rain slick over the tower of full berry trays. In a miracle of timing, the boss roared up in the van seconds before the deluge. We stowed the berries just in time. Stretch and I laid down in the back of the van with the berries, and watched the wall of rain through the open sliding door as the boss drove us back. The crew decided to walk back to the farm store on their own.
We hurried the berries onto a couple shelves in the cooler. Stretch and I set up the market tent over the sink to wash up/bundle a bunch of carrots and beets for the farm store (once again, produce from a friend's farm). Finished up quickly, but closing time was near. The boss told us to sign out for a full day's work and go home.
Before going home I sat down to talk to the boss. Since I'm not going to the city this weekend, I figured that I might as well work. So I asked about coming in tomorrow. He needs me in the morning to help set up the early day CSA pick up. I'm pretty exhausted and I don't think he expects me to show-- all the same, I'll be there tomorrow. Just a sucker for punishment I guess.
So there maybe a farm post for tomorrow too.
Take it easy.
No time for the greenhouse this morning, jogged out and over to hitch a wagon full of pipes up with the boss's tractor. NYU and Stretch hopped into the van and I drove us up to the hilltop to meet the boss. We hid from the rain in the van until the tractor made it up the hill. We unloaded/organized the pipes in the meadow where the foreman mowed over some turkey nests. The boss took the empty wagon back down to the greenhouse to get started on the real work-- we followed in the van.
Today's rain caught the boss off guard. None of the weather services predicted anything of this sort until it was already pouring. There isn't much you can pick in the rain-- wet berries mold like lightning once separated from the plant, and everything else goes much slower to the point its just not worth picking. But so long as the soil isn't flooded (it wasn't), rain is the perfect time to transplant as the sun wont dry out the delicate plants' roots. So we started loading up the wagon with the late summer/fall tomatoes with Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew. Put up the Rose, Purple Cherokees, Moskvich, Purple Prudence, Striped German, Red Pear and a few others I've forgotten. We left the Sugar Gold cherries in the greenhouse-- the boss wants to set up some proper rows for them.
Our super crew (Bah, Old Rudolpho, Daughter-in-law #1, Daughter-in-law #2, Stretch, NYU and myself) marched up the hill to the empty section beside the late season corn recently planted. The foreman quickly drove out a travel lane with the old tractor, then lowered a trenching tool he'd hitched up to drag out 10 tomato rows. With the surprise weather we didn't have the opportunity to wrap the fields in plastic or anything, but the boss didn't seem concerned. Sometimes you just got to do what the weather says, whether you're ready or not.
We planted in the mud and rain. We spaced the plants 2ft apart, along the foreman's trenches. The daughter-in-laws are extremely wary of us-- they speak a small bit of english (only with the boss), but keep to spanish otherwise. They're heavy set women-- dressed in jean pants and jean jackets, with their hair up in red bandannas or tucked under straw conical hats (like Bah's). They talk very loud and constantly, shooting the breeze and arguing-- occasionally Old Rudolpho drawls in a sentence or a short story. Except when one of my idiot boys (or me) come around. Then the daughter-in-laws stop talking and stare them down. Our crew hasn't worked with them much this season.
As we progressed down the field, things got a little difficult-- NYU grilled the women over their tomato placement/spacing/how many plants left in their trays. Rather than him fixing anything, the crew (Bah, Old Rudolpho and the daughter-in-laws) started getting really confused. Confused means slow-- and it was raining too hard for slow. So I went to the wagon and bunched up all the tomatoes in their planting order, cut a length of rope to the proper plant spacing, took my trowel-- then settled the matter myself. I got out in front of the crew and started digging. Figured they could deal with taking the plants from the trays and planting them in the holes I made. I worked at a lunatic's pace-- measure, dig, measure, dig. All the way down the line as they followed in with the plants behind. Things started moving much faster. The daughter-in-laws must have found me hilarious, as they laughed their heads off and called after me-- como gato (or something similar).
We planted through 8 long rows quick. By lunch time all but 2 tomato varieties were in the ground. Bah called the time, and we all sloshed down the hill.
Over lunch the boss took NYU home to change out of his mud-soaked clothes so he could run the CSA clean and comfortable. The Bah and Old Rudolpho's gang headed up hill to finish off the tomato planting. Stretch and I seeded 4 of the unplanted plastic wrapped rows by the greenhouse with squash (2 rows summer squash, 2 rows zucchini). We finished the summer squash rows fine, but we ran out of seeds (eventually there will be 5 rows of zucchini planted here). The rain had died down over lunch, so things were getting a bit dryer as we helped NYU set up for the CSA. Today we had: last strawberries, raspberries, romaine lettuce, rabe, chard, red boar and dinosaur kale, snap peas, sweet shelling peas, zucchini (from friend's farm), bok choi, spinach (also from friend's farm) and arugula.
Things got dry enough that the boss sent me and Stretch up to pick the first raspberries from the rows at the far slope of the hilltop (where NYU and I spent a long time weeding/pounding trellises/tying wire). The boss came with us to sample the berries-- every one of the 6 raspberry fields are different varieties, but the the berries in this field are the boss's favorite. They have a much sweeter/stronger taste. (We do the different raspberry varieties as a means of balancing the risks of growing/pests/weather on the berry crop.) The rows were as red as they were green-- the wires were bent beneath the berries' weight. Stretch and I picked along for a while before Bah, Old Rudolpho and company came to join us. The picking was fast and easy, we filled several trays quickly.
As we worked the southern skies started to turn real dark. I called up the boss to give him fair warning-- I've already mentioned how bad water is for fresh picked berries. We picked faster and faster-- it was a shame to leave these raspberries to the weather. Some were so big, ripe and swollen that they'd nearly popped themselves from their stems. When the rain hit, it built up real quick. I ran down the row and threw my rain slick over the tower of full berry trays. In a miracle of timing, the boss roared up in the van seconds before the deluge. We stowed the berries just in time. Stretch and I laid down in the back of the van with the berries, and watched the wall of rain through the open sliding door as the boss drove us back. The crew decided to walk back to the farm store on their own.
We hurried the berries onto a couple shelves in the cooler. Stretch and I set up the market tent over the sink to wash up/bundle a bunch of carrots and beets for the farm store (once again, produce from a friend's farm). Finished up quickly, but closing time was near. The boss told us to sign out for a full day's work and go home.
Before going home I sat down to talk to the boss. Since I'm not going to the city this weekend, I figured that I might as well work. So I asked about coming in tomorrow. He needs me in the morning to help set up the early day CSA pick up. I'm pretty exhausted and I don't think he expects me to show-- all the same, I'll be there tomorrow. Just a sucker for punishment I guess.
So there maybe a farm post for tomorrow too.
Take it easy.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Get Up Jake
Full sun. Temperature in the 90Fs.
Right to it. No need for irrigation today after the rains last night. Helped Rhode Island and NYU pack up the van to take the boss's daughter to market-- then we got new marching orders.
The boss sent me and Stretch across the lower fields to join Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew. We picked raspberries straight through till lunch.
After lunch I headed down to check on the greenhouse. I've been wary of over-watering the seedlings-- some have been looking a tad weak. Talking to the foreman, we realized that I've been forgetting to spray liquid fertilizer (needs to be done once a week or so). Filled up the attachment and sprayed down all the plants strong enough to handle the dose-- then heavily watered all the trays to help the fertilizer really seep in. We were running low on spinach this week, so I helped the boys bunch up a dozen crates worth ordered from the boss's friend. NYU was CSA king again, so we helped him put the produce wagons in order.
Stretch and I were sent off to help Bah finish the raspberry rows from the morning. A few hours of picking later-- we sifted the berries into the pint containers with Old Rudolpho's daughter-in-laws. Headed back to the farm store and gave NYU a hand keeping up with the CSA. The boss took me and Stretch up to the hilltop fields for some more veggie cutting-- rest of the arugula/bok choi/rabe. We sliced along the rest of the day-- finishing right before close.
The boss picked us up and handed us our paychecks-- I got a raise! A shipment of new cardboard boxes arrived, so I dragged the box bundles into the barn while Stretch washed and packed our catch into the cooler. Another day done.
I've hit a strange funk posting today. I think its from writing about all the past weeks worth of messing around with the boys-- some things that happen in the fields might do well to stay there. A person will do/say anything to break up several hours worth of staring at dirt, a knife and their own hands. I dunno, maybe farms aren't as sanitized as they appear in the seed catalogs. Things happen, then I write whatever it was down. I need a brain cleanse-- on with the weekend already.
But all the same,
See ya tomorrow.
Right to it. No need for irrigation today after the rains last night. Helped Rhode Island and NYU pack up the van to take the boss's daughter to market-- then we got new marching orders.
The boss sent me and Stretch across the lower fields to join Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew. We picked raspberries straight through till lunch.
After lunch I headed down to check on the greenhouse. I've been wary of over-watering the seedlings-- some have been looking a tad weak. Talking to the foreman, we realized that I've been forgetting to spray liquid fertilizer (needs to be done once a week or so). Filled up the attachment and sprayed down all the plants strong enough to handle the dose-- then heavily watered all the trays to help the fertilizer really seep in. We were running low on spinach this week, so I helped the boys bunch up a dozen crates worth ordered from the boss's friend. NYU was CSA king again, so we helped him put the produce wagons in order.
Stretch and I were sent off to help Bah finish the raspberry rows from the morning. A few hours of picking later-- we sifted the berries into the pint containers with Old Rudolpho's daughter-in-laws. Headed back to the farm store and gave NYU a hand keeping up with the CSA. The boss took me and Stretch up to the hilltop fields for some more veggie cutting-- rest of the arugula/bok choi/rabe. We sliced along the rest of the day-- finishing right before close.
The boss picked us up and handed us our paychecks-- I got a raise! A shipment of new cardboard boxes arrived, so I dragged the box bundles into the barn while Stretch washed and packed our catch into the cooler. Another day done.
I've hit a strange funk posting today. I think its from writing about all the past weeks worth of messing around with the boys-- some things that happen in the fields might do well to stay there. A person will do/say anything to break up several hours worth of staring at dirt, a knife and their own hands. I dunno, maybe farms aren't as sanitized as they appear in the seed catalogs. Things happen, then I write whatever it was down. I need a brain cleanse-- on with the weekend already.
But all the same,
See ya tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Geysers
Today was the hottest so far, made 95F this morning then stayed at 92F. Full sun all day, thick humidity boiled off by noon.
Time stood still today, maybe it was just the heat.
Got to the greenhouse a few minutes early and watered up the sprouts. I joined the boys behind the store-- Rhode Island, NYU and Stretch were greasing up with sun lotion and getting their water filled. We got moving and helped the foreman lay out the head-line (which connect the individual drip lines to the irrigation artery) along the cantaloupe rows. Mid-way through plugging in the water nozzles (allowing individual lines to be started/stopped), the boss called our crew over and we headed for the forest field-- grabbing a few hand-hoes and a box of stakes.
Up in the forest field we finished off yesterday's weeding and reinforced the plastic wrap along the cucumber rows. Connecting a few pipes over from the forest artery, we laid a line of water guns along the basil/peppers and several new rows of something or other the foreman planted. Our crew hustled back to the farm store and helped the boss pile the tractor wagon high with pick crates. We handed out the knives and the boys squeezed onto the wagon-- I took the van with Lucy down to the lower fields to meet them. Lettuce was the order, all of it. We cut 28 crates worth of romaine (about 450 heads). Had a few laughs as we cut along. At some point the foreman got the irrigation pumping water through the cantaloupe drips, tomato and forest fields. Once finished we took the wagon load back for a hose down and chilling. On account of the heat the boss gave us an early and long lunch.
The long lunch wasn't meant to be. After a quick pizza trip, I walked from the car to find some shade for a cigarette-- when the foreman waved me over into the road.
The boss had returned along the town road from the hilltop. At some point while turning up to the farm store a young girl plowed into him. We found them in the center of the town road-- her sedan was totaled, looked like the engine was wedged up into the passenger seat. The car hood was crumpled into the windshield. The van might have had a slight dent to its rear bumper. The foreman and I ran over, relieved to see both the girl and the boss walk out.
The boss was perfectly fine and, bizarrely, happy as hell. He rattled off a list of things needing to be done as though nothing had happened-- then turned to call the police/ chat with the girl. So we shrugged and got to it. The foreman ran off to his tasks, and I called the boys to the back of the farm store. I told them what happened then got them packing bushel crates full of the peas Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew had picked. I grabbed up a 10 gallon can of diesel and funnel, then waddled down to the horse pond. I hefted up the can, plugged in the funnel and refueled the old tractor (which was powering the water pump). The boss called me on the cell phone-- he was going to be a few more minutes sorting out insurance information, so I needed to move the irrigation down the tomato field.
I waved the boys over and we huffed out to the field. I spun the iron wheel closing the water gate leading to the tomatoes. We needed to be quick. NYU doesn't like being ordered about, so he grew pissy real quick as I shouted at him and Rhode Island to move their molasses asses. Stretch and I jammed in the 4in pipes extending the artery mid-field, then plugged home the T-pipe/reducers leading down to the 2in water gun pipes. I was afraid that with the tomato water gate closed water pressure would build in the arteries and cause a catastrophe pipe blow out. We stuffed the pipes into place and opened the gate-- when the boss walked over. It was picking time. The boys went to get prepped, but I hung back-- things didn't look right along the tomato water lines.
I jumped the tomato plants and walked the water line-- then saw the break. In their piss-fest Rhode Island and NYU hadn't connected the lines properly. I tried to kick the pipe connected back against its gasket, but things got real messy-- the pipes shot loose, pouring water into the tomato rows. In a quick sprint, I ran, closed the water gate, rammed the pipe connections back into place, double checked/ adjusted the pipes, ran and opened the gate. Better, but still wrong. The foreman was taking a breather behind the store so I went to him. He gave me two wrenches (1/2in and 1in), a length of wire. We scanned the water lines and talked about everything that could be wrong. The foreman is, in his strange way, one of my biggest working advocates. If there's a problem he is familiar with he usually talks me through it, then sends me to figure out the rest on my own. So he wished me good luck and returned to airing out his soaked boots and clothes.
Something was fishy with a water gun at the far end of the line. I unscrewed the nozzle, but the water only trickled out despite all the other guns pumping at full force. It was time for a mess and wrenches. I walked a good distance away-- took off my shirt and emptied my pockets into it (phone, knife, cigarettes, lighter, keys). Rolled up my pants and tied the boots tighter-- it was wrenching time. Back at the busted water gun, I got the one inch and started laying into the water gun's bolt. It was hard going, and I soon found out why. Good thing I had a hard grip on the water gun, as soon as I gave the final twist-- water blew out of the pipe stem with the force of a fire hose, shooting straight up in a 25ft geyser. The water came back down hard as I jammed the wire into the gun's end-- something was stuck alright. I pushed and smashed the wire through with a rock, until a biggish rock and some hard nut shells fell loose-- the easy part was over.
The foreman said that it's possible (with a strong steady hand) to force the gun back onto the pipe stem despite the water flow. So I tried force. Imagine attaching a sprinkler head to a fire hose. Water blew everywhere. I was drenched in seconds. I wrestled with the water gun for one very long minute. The pressure suddenly kicked down, I looked up to see the foreman wave as he spun the water gate closed-- all I needed. I pushed that gun into place and muscled that one inch wrench like a lunatic. Safe. I cleared out as the foreman spun the gate back open-- problem solved.
I laughed my way back to the farm store with the foreman. Over a well earned cigarette, the foreman told me he'd completely underestimated the water pressure today. From across the field he was watching me, but the moment I wrenched off the gun he thought-- shit, no way in hell that's going back on. He told me I'd better go check the forest field lines-- with all the fluctuations in water pressure, another blowout was entirely possible. Viking gave me a plastic bag to wrap up my pocket stuff, then I hoofed it across the tomato fields.
A few water guns were clogged, but the wire fixed them quick. I took another long cigarette at the wood's edge then ran off to join the boys in the lower fields.
Maybe it was the heat ( or jealousy of my water shower), but the boys met me cold and silent. Out mid-field, they were picking kale-- NYU told me they watched the geyser from the other end of the field. The boss had been with them, and kept saying-- why didn't he turn off the goddamn water, too busy to cut the goddamned water? In retrospect, yes that could have been a good idea. But as the foreman told me-- a blow out was only a minute away with today's heavy water pressure.
The boys eased off soon enough-- the foreman joined us, bringing music. We picked all the kale (both varieties, Red Boar and Dinosaur), filling 8 big cardboard boxes (30-40 bunches) of each. Next was the swiss chard. We picked the whole field's worth-- filling 6 big boxes. Rhode Island had taken his attention medicine after lunch and was a zombie-- he hardly talked except to apologize for past indiscretions/life mistakes. He spent a long time staring off at the woods With the field cleared, we piled the full boxes onto the wagon and jumped aboard. The foreman took us around to fetch up a bunch of peas Bah and Old Rudolpho's family picked. We loaded the buckets and rolled back to the farm store.
On the ride, NYU wondered pointedly-- how did you start in March, it must have been an icy hell every day. A very distant memory these days. At the store we hosed and packed the kale and chard into the cooler. We descended on Viking, chatting like madmen. She lined us all up and put some sort of vitamin supplement into our hands. We popped 'em without a second thought. The boss was ready and herded us up. We packed the van full of boxes and knives-- Rhode Island took the passenger seat (staring ahead with a look of disbelief)-- Stretch, NYU and I stuffed ourselves in with the boxes. The heat must have driven us mad-- we joked, shouted startling new obscenities and rolled laughing in the boxes. The boss laughed right on with us-- we pulled onto the town road and drove the long way up to the hilltop fields.
We clamored out of the van hooting and hollering, knives in hand. Rhode Island never lost his middle-distance stare. The boss joined us as we hacked through several boxes worth of arugula. We argued with the boss, trying to convince him into producing a cheap farm brand malt-liquor-- he was skeptical, how would he make a profit?-- his field hands would drink it all. Many heated arguments erupted over brands of beer and whiskey. Next we turned to the bok choi. The boss left to check on the potato and corn fields. I was getting a bit concerned about Rhode Island-- it was hard to tell whether his depression was heat stroke or a side effect of the medicine. He refused any and all water-- it was too warm. Our madness was spent and the boss called it a day. We loaded up the van and piled in.
We washed up the choi and arugula, then stuffed it into the already full cooler. The boys called it a day. I watered down the greenhouse, chatted with Viking and the foreman, and then I left.
The summer is full of strange days. A surprise thunderstorm is blowing over. It turned the sky black. Here with a beer on the porch, smoking-- catch you tomorrow.
Time stood still today, maybe it was just the heat.
Got to the greenhouse a few minutes early and watered up the sprouts. I joined the boys behind the store-- Rhode Island, NYU and Stretch were greasing up with sun lotion and getting their water filled. We got moving and helped the foreman lay out the head-line (which connect the individual drip lines to the irrigation artery) along the cantaloupe rows. Mid-way through plugging in the water nozzles (allowing individual lines to be started/stopped), the boss called our crew over and we headed for the forest field-- grabbing a few hand-hoes and a box of stakes.
Up in the forest field we finished off yesterday's weeding and reinforced the plastic wrap along the cucumber rows. Connecting a few pipes over from the forest artery, we laid a line of water guns along the basil/peppers and several new rows of something or other the foreman planted. Our crew hustled back to the farm store and helped the boss pile the tractor wagon high with pick crates. We handed out the knives and the boys squeezed onto the wagon-- I took the van with Lucy down to the lower fields to meet them. Lettuce was the order, all of it. We cut 28 crates worth of romaine (about 450 heads). Had a few laughs as we cut along. At some point the foreman got the irrigation pumping water through the cantaloupe drips, tomato and forest fields. Once finished we took the wagon load back for a hose down and chilling. On account of the heat the boss gave us an early and long lunch.
The long lunch wasn't meant to be. After a quick pizza trip, I walked from the car to find some shade for a cigarette-- when the foreman waved me over into the road.
The boss had returned along the town road from the hilltop. At some point while turning up to the farm store a young girl plowed into him. We found them in the center of the town road-- her sedan was totaled, looked like the engine was wedged up into the passenger seat. The car hood was crumpled into the windshield. The van might have had a slight dent to its rear bumper. The foreman and I ran over, relieved to see both the girl and the boss walk out.
The boss was perfectly fine and, bizarrely, happy as hell. He rattled off a list of things needing to be done as though nothing had happened-- then turned to call the police/ chat with the girl. So we shrugged and got to it. The foreman ran off to his tasks, and I called the boys to the back of the farm store. I told them what happened then got them packing bushel crates full of the peas Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew had picked. I grabbed up a 10 gallon can of diesel and funnel, then waddled down to the horse pond. I hefted up the can, plugged in the funnel and refueled the old tractor (which was powering the water pump). The boss called me on the cell phone-- he was going to be a few more minutes sorting out insurance information, so I needed to move the irrigation down the tomato field.
I waved the boys over and we huffed out to the field. I spun the iron wheel closing the water gate leading to the tomatoes. We needed to be quick. NYU doesn't like being ordered about, so he grew pissy real quick as I shouted at him and Rhode Island to move their molasses asses. Stretch and I jammed in the 4in pipes extending the artery mid-field, then plugged home the T-pipe/reducers leading down to the 2in water gun pipes. I was afraid that with the tomato water gate closed water pressure would build in the arteries and cause a catastrophe pipe blow out. We stuffed the pipes into place and opened the gate-- when the boss walked over. It was picking time. The boys went to get prepped, but I hung back-- things didn't look right along the tomato water lines.
I jumped the tomato plants and walked the water line-- then saw the break. In their piss-fest Rhode Island and NYU hadn't connected the lines properly. I tried to kick the pipe connected back against its gasket, but things got real messy-- the pipes shot loose, pouring water into the tomato rows. In a quick sprint, I ran, closed the water gate, rammed the pipe connections back into place, double checked/ adjusted the pipes, ran and opened the gate. Better, but still wrong. The foreman was taking a breather behind the store so I went to him. He gave me two wrenches (1/2in and 1in), a length of wire. We scanned the water lines and talked about everything that could be wrong. The foreman is, in his strange way, one of my biggest working advocates. If there's a problem he is familiar with he usually talks me through it, then sends me to figure out the rest on my own. So he wished me good luck and returned to airing out his soaked boots and clothes.
Something was fishy with a water gun at the far end of the line. I unscrewed the nozzle, but the water only trickled out despite all the other guns pumping at full force. It was time for a mess and wrenches. I walked a good distance away-- took off my shirt and emptied my pockets into it (phone, knife, cigarettes, lighter, keys). Rolled up my pants and tied the boots tighter-- it was wrenching time. Back at the busted water gun, I got the one inch and started laying into the water gun's bolt. It was hard going, and I soon found out why. Good thing I had a hard grip on the water gun, as soon as I gave the final twist-- water blew out of the pipe stem with the force of a fire hose, shooting straight up in a 25ft geyser. The water came back down hard as I jammed the wire into the gun's end-- something was stuck alright. I pushed and smashed the wire through with a rock, until a biggish rock and some hard nut shells fell loose-- the easy part was over.
The foreman said that it's possible (with a strong steady hand) to force the gun back onto the pipe stem despite the water flow. So I tried force. Imagine attaching a sprinkler head to a fire hose. Water blew everywhere. I was drenched in seconds. I wrestled with the water gun for one very long minute. The pressure suddenly kicked down, I looked up to see the foreman wave as he spun the water gate closed-- all I needed. I pushed that gun into place and muscled that one inch wrench like a lunatic. Safe. I cleared out as the foreman spun the gate back open-- problem solved.
I laughed my way back to the farm store with the foreman. Over a well earned cigarette, the foreman told me he'd completely underestimated the water pressure today. From across the field he was watching me, but the moment I wrenched off the gun he thought-- shit, no way in hell that's going back on. He told me I'd better go check the forest field lines-- with all the fluctuations in water pressure, another blowout was entirely possible. Viking gave me a plastic bag to wrap up my pocket stuff, then I hoofed it across the tomato fields.
A few water guns were clogged, but the wire fixed them quick. I took another long cigarette at the wood's edge then ran off to join the boys in the lower fields.
Maybe it was the heat ( or jealousy of my water shower), but the boys met me cold and silent. Out mid-field, they were picking kale-- NYU told me they watched the geyser from the other end of the field. The boss had been with them, and kept saying-- why didn't he turn off the goddamn water, too busy to cut the goddamned water? In retrospect, yes that could have been a good idea. But as the foreman told me-- a blow out was only a minute away with today's heavy water pressure.
The boys eased off soon enough-- the foreman joined us, bringing music. We picked all the kale (both varieties, Red Boar and Dinosaur), filling 8 big cardboard boxes (30-40 bunches) of each. Next was the swiss chard. We picked the whole field's worth-- filling 6 big boxes. Rhode Island had taken his attention medicine after lunch and was a zombie-- he hardly talked except to apologize for past indiscretions/life mistakes. He spent a long time staring off at the woods With the field cleared, we piled the full boxes onto the wagon and jumped aboard. The foreman took us around to fetch up a bunch of peas Bah and Old Rudolpho's family picked. We loaded the buckets and rolled back to the farm store.
On the ride, NYU wondered pointedly-- how did you start in March, it must have been an icy hell every day. A very distant memory these days. At the store we hosed and packed the kale and chard into the cooler. We descended on Viking, chatting like madmen. She lined us all up and put some sort of vitamin supplement into our hands. We popped 'em without a second thought. The boss was ready and herded us up. We packed the van full of boxes and knives-- Rhode Island took the passenger seat (staring ahead with a look of disbelief)-- Stretch, NYU and I stuffed ourselves in with the boxes. The heat must have driven us mad-- we joked, shouted startling new obscenities and rolled laughing in the boxes. The boss laughed right on with us-- we pulled onto the town road and drove the long way up to the hilltop fields.
We clamored out of the van hooting and hollering, knives in hand. Rhode Island never lost his middle-distance stare. The boss joined us as we hacked through several boxes worth of arugula. We argued with the boss, trying to convince him into producing a cheap farm brand malt-liquor-- he was skeptical, how would he make a profit?-- his field hands would drink it all. Many heated arguments erupted over brands of beer and whiskey. Next we turned to the bok choi. The boss left to check on the potato and corn fields. I was getting a bit concerned about Rhode Island-- it was hard to tell whether his depression was heat stroke or a side effect of the medicine. He refused any and all water-- it was too warm. Our madness was spent and the boss called it a day. We loaded up the van and piled in.
We washed up the choi and arugula, then stuffed it into the already full cooler. The boys called it a day. I watered down the greenhouse, chatted with Viking and the foreman, and then I left.
The summer is full of strange days. A surprise thunderstorm is blowing over. It turned the sky black. Here with a beer on the porch, smoking-- catch you tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Backs
Full sun all day. The temperature made a hazy 92F.
Back from the city and a fine holiday. Darlin and I visited her father out by the beach. He's a gifted gardener and landscaper-- so we talked plant business over many beers and much wine. I was happily surprised-- he might take me up on my offer and come see the farm. Is there such a thing as an agricultural-recruiter?-- think I've become one. Buses ran fast, got home early to find my brother had a little party in progress. Over some whiskey in the backyard I got to be chums with two fellas-- one was forced financially from college to join his family working a factory line, the other recently started as a line cook at a chain restaurant. On account of my increasingly grizzled appearance they dubbed me Captain Jack-- unfortunately, they were too young for my Billy Joel jokes ( ...'will get cha high tonight'...). A late night became an early morning too fast.
Rolled up to the farm a bit wooden faced from drink-- no mercy, just get right to it. I watered the greenhouse then joined NYU and Stretch behind the store. Bah's crew had been busy picking peas all weekend, so the cooler was packed full. The wholesaler truck was due in a few hours-- so we shifted out the bad peas, packed and weighed out the 10lb boxes of peas at a fever pace. The boss was in a rotten mood when he arrived. The big money farmer's market started today, and he loaded us up with work: peas all needed to be ready in an hour, bok choi/arugula/rabe needed cutting from the hilltop fields, romaine/chard needed picking from the lower fields, and the van needed to be packed with produce to leave in 2 hours.
NYU kept up the boxing pace, while the foreman took me and Stretch up to the hilltop. I gunned through the arugula and helped Stretch finish a crate of rabe-- the foreman picked off the bok choi. We hustled back down to the farm store and packed up more peas. Time really started to run short. The boys kept on with the boxes-- I ran down to the lower fields to slice through a crate of chard and 2 tight rounds of romaine. I hefted my catch back up the tractor road just in time to see the wholesaler arrive. I hosed down the crates and stuffed 'em in the cooler, but the truck was already gone. Oh well. NYU told me 60 finished boxes were picked up (20 bucks a 10lb box, not a bad haul). We filled another 20 and stacked 'em up in the cooler for tomorrow. Packed up the van with produce, finished just in time. The boss was still sour-- he ambled over and dragged NYU into the van without a word-- then took off to market. Stretch and I pitied our friend.
With the boss gone for the day the tension dropped quick. The foreman took me, Stretch and a new transplanting round of lettuce out to the lower fields. We set the lettuce trays in the shade, soaked them through with a watering can and then left for lunch.
After lunch, I pulled Stretch away from Mouse and we got to the lettuce. We needed to work fast as the foreman wanted to run the irrigation mid-afternoon. After creeping at a snails pace down a bed of loose leaf-- I took a page from Bah and Old Rudolpho's book: divide and conquer. Rather than pop out the soil plugs and then pack in the lettuce one at a time (Stretch was a painfully slow plug popper), I handled the trays--laying out the lettuce in position, while Stretch followed behind covering in with soil. We burned through the 6 trays (2 loose leaf, 2 romaine, 1 iceberg, then 1 tray with an undecipherable tag). While we planted, the foreman reconnected the water gun lines around the peas and shifted up the tomato line.
Finished the lettuce and the water started flowing. Stretch and I grabbed wrenches and wire-- we hustled clearing the nozzles, dragging plants and pond reeds from clogged pipelines. It was wet business, but it was about to get wetter. Irrigating both the tomato and lower fields requires a lot of water pressure, so the foreman pumped up the tractor a few hearty RPMs. The new water force caused a blow out along the tomato line-- the pipes literally shot out of their connectors. The foreman sprinted over and helped me muscle the pipes into place against the water torrent. Fixed it all up fine. Stretch and I cleared the lower fields, when the foreman came over with hand-hoes for our new assignment.
The cucumber rows in the forest field needed heavy weeding. We hiked up through the woods path, peeled out of our sopping shirts and such-- then got to the weeding. Cucumber beetles are entering their mating period, so any we could catch needed killing. I got a bunch, but Stretch said he didn't find any. The sun is hot on a bare back. The foreman came to weed after checking the irrigation. We managed to clear one and 3/4 of the rows before closing.
While the foreman shut down the water pump, I chatted around with Viking and Mouse. Over lunch, Viking made some lemon-limeade mixed with the dregs of strawberry jam from the cooking kettle. It was delicious. And I got on home.
Tomorrow is a hotter day, take it easy.
Back from the city and a fine holiday. Darlin and I visited her father out by the beach. He's a gifted gardener and landscaper-- so we talked plant business over many beers and much wine. I was happily surprised-- he might take me up on my offer and come see the farm. Is there such a thing as an agricultural-recruiter?-- think I've become one. Buses ran fast, got home early to find my brother had a little party in progress. Over some whiskey in the backyard I got to be chums with two fellas-- one was forced financially from college to join his family working a factory line, the other recently started as a line cook at a chain restaurant. On account of my increasingly grizzled appearance they dubbed me Captain Jack-- unfortunately, they were too young for my Billy Joel jokes ( ...'will get cha high tonight'...). A late night became an early morning too fast.
Rolled up to the farm a bit wooden faced from drink-- no mercy, just get right to it. I watered the greenhouse then joined NYU and Stretch behind the store. Bah's crew had been busy picking peas all weekend, so the cooler was packed full. The wholesaler truck was due in a few hours-- so we shifted out the bad peas, packed and weighed out the 10lb boxes of peas at a fever pace. The boss was in a rotten mood when he arrived. The big money farmer's market started today, and he loaded us up with work: peas all needed to be ready in an hour, bok choi/arugula/rabe needed cutting from the hilltop fields, romaine/chard needed picking from the lower fields, and the van needed to be packed with produce to leave in 2 hours.
NYU kept up the boxing pace, while the foreman took me and Stretch up to the hilltop. I gunned through the arugula and helped Stretch finish a crate of rabe-- the foreman picked off the bok choi. We hustled back down to the farm store and packed up more peas. Time really started to run short. The boys kept on with the boxes-- I ran down to the lower fields to slice through a crate of chard and 2 tight rounds of romaine. I hefted my catch back up the tractor road just in time to see the wholesaler arrive. I hosed down the crates and stuffed 'em in the cooler, but the truck was already gone. Oh well. NYU told me 60 finished boxes were picked up (20 bucks a 10lb box, not a bad haul). We filled another 20 and stacked 'em up in the cooler for tomorrow. Packed up the van with produce, finished just in time. The boss was still sour-- he ambled over and dragged NYU into the van without a word-- then took off to market. Stretch and I pitied our friend.
With the boss gone for the day the tension dropped quick. The foreman took me, Stretch and a new transplanting round of lettuce out to the lower fields. We set the lettuce trays in the shade, soaked them through with a watering can and then left for lunch.
After lunch, I pulled Stretch away from Mouse and we got to the lettuce. We needed to work fast as the foreman wanted to run the irrigation mid-afternoon. After creeping at a snails pace down a bed of loose leaf-- I took a page from Bah and Old Rudolpho's book: divide and conquer. Rather than pop out the soil plugs and then pack in the lettuce one at a time (Stretch was a painfully slow plug popper), I handled the trays--laying out the lettuce in position, while Stretch followed behind covering in with soil. We burned through the 6 trays (2 loose leaf, 2 romaine, 1 iceberg, then 1 tray with an undecipherable tag). While we planted, the foreman reconnected the water gun lines around the peas and shifted up the tomato line.
Finished the lettuce and the water started flowing. Stretch and I grabbed wrenches and wire-- we hustled clearing the nozzles, dragging plants and pond reeds from clogged pipelines. It was wet business, but it was about to get wetter. Irrigating both the tomato and lower fields requires a lot of water pressure, so the foreman pumped up the tractor a few hearty RPMs. The new water force caused a blow out along the tomato line-- the pipes literally shot out of their connectors. The foreman sprinted over and helped me muscle the pipes into place against the water torrent. Fixed it all up fine. Stretch and I cleared the lower fields, when the foreman came over with hand-hoes for our new assignment.
The cucumber rows in the forest field needed heavy weeding. We hiked up through the woods path, peeled out of our sopping shirts and such-- then got to the weeding. Cucumber beetles are entering their mating period, so any we could catch needed killing. I got a bunch, but Stretch said he didn't find any. The sun is hot on a bare back. The foreman came to weed after checking the irrigation. We managed to clear one and 3/4 of the rows before closing.
While the foreman shut down the water pump, I chatted around with Viking and Mouse. Over lunch, Viking made some lemon-limeade mixed with the dregs of strawberry jam from the cooking kettle. It was delicious. And I got on home.
Tomorrow is a hotter day, take it easy.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Vines
(On the bus, tired, so its gonna be a lightning post)
Full sun most of the day, partly cloudy in the morning. The temperature slipped just under 80F.
Pulled in and got that greenhouse all watered. Stretch and NYU were sent off to start snipping back the runner-vines from the day neutral strawberry rows. The boss mixed up a big buckets worth of a dry nitrogen fertilizer and took me up to the hilltop fields. He gave me elbow length rubber gloves and went on his way. This stuff is pretty caustic to human skin (hence gloves), but I sprinkled the fertilizer down all the rows the boys and I weeded on Tuesday.
Finally finished and headed down to the farm store. The wholesaler was coming to pick up some snap peas and jam around noon. I dragged out a few buckets and 5 boxes worth of the peas-- then sifted through the lot taking out any rodent/fungus/rot damaged pods. 10lbs per box (or 10 3/4lb when accounting for the box), I got 'em all packed right before the truck came. Rhode Island helped me and the truck driver load all the jam and pea boxes into the back. Lunch time.
After lunch NYU, Stretch and I got the CSA set up. Some raspberries went out today-- Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew has been picking more and more berries. Easy is out for two weeks, so NYU became king of the CSA-- stuck greeting members and refilling wagons with produce as they empty. Stretch and I went out to the day neutral strawberries in the lower field to finish snipping vines. Things went slow.
Out in the sun we clipped away 4 hours. Cutting the vines helps keep the rows manageable/conserves the plant's strength for berry production. Mid-way through, the foreman called me over and we disconnected the two peas/fava bean irrigation lines. We double checked all the connections, then he ambled off to get the pump going. Back at the vines, I could hear the drip lines fill long before the water guns started to sound. I headed down to the end of all the drip lines, pulled their plugs, let the pond scum flush and then reattached the plugs. Stretch and I caught a serious bought of field madness after crawling around on our knees in the sun-- fortunately we finished the vine cutting with an hour or so till close.
We joined up with the foreman to reposition the tomato field irrigation line. The foreman shut the water gate, we disconnected each length and carried them up to their new position. We reassembled the line and reopened the gate--water flowed fine. The boss came down and seemed surprised that we finished clipping the strawberries-- so he sent us to weed the parking lot gardens till closing.
Got my check, got some jam for Darlin' and her parents, but I didn't bring 'riding liquor' for the bus (despite NYU's advice). It's still a long ways off to the city, a few more transfers to go. Can't wait to eat. drink. then sleep.
Take it easy everybody, next post is on Tuesday.
Full sun most of the day, partly cloudy in the morning. The temperature slipped just under 80F.
Pulled in and got that greenhouse all watered. Stretch and NYU were sent off to start snipping back the runner-vines from the day neutral strawberry rows. The boss mixed up a big buckets worth of a dry nitrogen fertilizer and took me up to the hilltop fields. He gave me elbow length rubber gloves and went on his way. This stuff is pretty caustic to human skin (hence gloves), but I sprinkled the fertilizer down all the rows the boys and I weeded on Tuesday.
Finally finished and headed down to the farm store. The wholesaler was coming to pick up some snap peas and jam around noon. I dragged out a few buckets and 5 boxes worth of the peas-- then sifted through the lot taking out any rodent/fungus/rot damaged pods. 10lbs per box (or 10 3/4lb when accounting for the box), I got 'em all packed right before the truck came. Rhode Island helped me and the truck driver load all the jam and pea boxes into the back. Lunch time.
After lunch NYU, Stretch and I got the CSA set up. Some raspberries went out today-- Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew has been picking more and more berries. Easy is out for two weeks, so NYU became king of the CSA-- stuck greeting members and refilling wagons with produce as they empty. Stretch and I went out to the day neutral strawberries in the lower field to finish snipping vines. Things went slow.
Out in the sun we clipped away 4 hours. Cutting the vines helps keep the rows manageable/conserves the plant's strength for berry production. Mid-way through, the foreman called me over and we disconnected the two peas/fava bean irrigation lines. We double checked all the connections, then he ambled off to get the pump going. Back at the vines, I could hear the drip lines fill long before the water guns started to sound. I headed down to the end of all the drip lines, pulled their plugs, let the pond scum flush and then reattached the plugs. Stretch and I caught a serious bought of field madness after crawling around on our knees in the sun-- fortunately we finished the vine cutting with an hour or so till close.
We joined up with the foreman to reposition the tomato field irrigation line. The foreman shut the water gate, we disconnected each length and carried them up to their new position. We reassembled the line and reopened the gate--water flowed fine. The boss came down and seemed surprised that we finished clipping the strawberries-- so he sent us to weed the parking lot gardens till closing.
Got my check, got some jam for Darlin' and her parents, but I didn't bring 'riding liquor' for the bus (despite NYU's advice). It's still a long ways off to the city, a few more transfers to go. Can't wait to eat. drink. then sleep.
Take it easy everybody, next post is on Tuesday.
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