Cold and rain this morning. Weather let up mid-morning, dark clouds hung overhead-- but the sun poked through for an hour here and there in the afternoon. 53F this morning, rose into the low 60Fs at noon.
A hard rain was falling when I pulled in this morning. Hustled down to the greenhouse and joined the gang. NYU was back, and had plenty of stories from the White Mountains. Apparently pickle juice is a good compliment to sip along with whiskey--NYU learned this from a group of elderly bikers in a nearby campsite. As it rained, NYU and I seeded 8 trays of lettuce (288 plants per tray) -- four of loose leaf, four of romaine. By the time we finished the weather had cleared up enough to get outside.
With the boss's blessing we marched off for the second raspberry fields on the far slope of the hilltop. The post wagon was waiting, loaded up and sopping wet. Regardless, we started the slow ways of driving down posts. NYU punched a hole down with the pry bar and held the post in place as I bashed it a good 2 1/2 feet deep. The soil on this side of the hill is poor, gravelly with many stones buried into the mix. Each post took several false starts-- my arms grew pretty tired swinging that maul. By lunch we laid nearly half of the posts.
After lunch NYU and I joked around the farm store with the boss and Viking. Mouse (the girl in the kitchen) made peace, and gave me a choice of cookies she baked up for the farm store. Then we dragged our way back to the posts. Fewer false starts through the second attempt, we got a lot better at avoiding the hidden stones. We finished the second half of the raspberry field in two hours. These trellises are nothing short of glorified sign posts-- so while we pounded away, the boss prepared a bunch of wooden cross beams back at the greenhouse (holes in the center for bolts and notches at the ends to string the rope). Hiking back to farm central, we met the boss and he explained his plans for the beams. We collected a box of the foot long beams, bolts, nuts and washers. The boss was once again in a great mood, joking around about some very unorthodox ideas for storefront advertisements-- NYU decided it was a good time to ask out of work early this Friday. That ended the good mood-- the boss was pretty pissed. In retrospect, I'm judging the rest of the day was punishment for NYU, and me by proxy.
Back in the raspberry field we sped along bolting the beams into place-- it seemed we might get the wire hung in a few more hours work. We weren't so lucky. The boss called me up, told us to ditch the beams in the wagon and go meet the foreman at the other side of the hilltop by the potato fields. That could only mean one thing, and it's no good being right.
NYU and I dragged along the pry bars, based on my premonitions. More rocking. The foreman was pretty sympathetic and blasted the reggae as we hunked along dragging boulder after boulder out for the pile. We filled 5-6 front loaders full to overflowing. It was NYU's first time pulling rock, so I kept a good distance from him and his pry bar. All things considered, bouldering brings some good comradery-- the three of us joked through our mutual misery. After five slow passes we cleared the field.
NYU and I had just enough time to collect our water and sit down, when the boss crept up behind in the old tractor-- no rest for the weary. More rocking. A long stone wall bisects the hilltop and the boss wanted it built up with all the rocks along the fields edges. We dragged to it, eventually the boss came out a gave us a hand-- out of pity. We finished the wall with a half hour till closing. Not done yet, NYU and I moved an irrigation artery (the galvanized steel piping) out from around the peach orchard and a fallow raspberry field-- so the boss could mow down the 3ft grass rising all around the fruit trees.
Staggering down the hill at the end of the day, we decided whiskey and pickle juice was the only medicine for our ailments. NYU and I signed out and went our ways home.
I may not have any pickle juice handy, but I certainly have the other.
The skies are looking dark again, but if the weather holds we'll probably be finishing the raspberry wiring tomorrow. The boss pointed out that all our crossbeams were hung too high, so first thing we'll have to unscrew and lower the lot of 'em.
Onward sleep.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
First Cut
Mild weather- but strange. Today began mostly cloudy, then blew into a sunny late morning and afternoon-- as of now the dark clouds are back. It rained all weekend, but sun is what we need. The temperature followed the clouds: started in the lower 60Fs, crept up into the higher 70Fs and then slid back down.
The boss was in a great mood this morning. There have been some rough seasons behind us, but last year was a major turning point. The weather was just right-- hot, sunny and dry. In the 300 some years (no exaggeration) that the boss's family has worked this farm, the streams have not once run dry. With water covered, there was nothing to do but grow. With the growing market for small farm foods, last year made him a fortune. This season is riding on the coattails of the last one-- weather isn't as great, but the slack has been made up in muscle. The boss spent a good part of the day basking in success, we're running far ahead of schedule (allowing time to cover all the little details usually overlooked in the rush).
We started the day-- foreman, boss and I-- fixing the a plow/trench attachment for the tractor. It's been a while since I delved a little into our mechanical fun time, so here we go--
The attachment is a wheel-less frame which attaches to the 3 adjustable arms at the back of the tractor. 2 parallel bars, spaced half a foot or so, run width-wise along the frame. Curved plow "tyes" can be placed according to need along the two bars. This attachment has been used around the farm since the 1940s, so it needed a major overhaul. In the past, the boss had bolted tyes together flush-- in order to reinforce them against the soil's drag. The first step was for the boss to take the disk cutter, saw through decades of rusted bolts and separate the tyes. The tyes have three parts: a thick iron attachment to lock onto the frame, a curved ribbon of iron and a thick bolt/housing to connect the ribbon and frame attachment. With the reinforcement's removed, it was my job to muscle off the bolts so they could be replaced. I attached a heavy monkey wrench onto the screw's back (stood on it), then attached the socket wrench and bar to the bolt (and kicked it repeatedly). Once I separated a tye, the foreman set to work. He'd procured a series of spade shaped plow heads to attach to the end of each iron ribbon. The foreman cleaned over all the pieces, attached the spade heads and put the entire tye back together with new bolts.
Once I finished pulling off all the rusted bolts, the boss sent me off on another task-- it was time to string up the raspberry trellises in the lower fields. So I took two rolls of line and headed out. The stringing was slow but easy-- just keep the string tight and avoid snapping raspberry canes. Each row needed two lines to brace up each side. I finished the stringing the 5 rows right before lunch.
After lunch I returned to finish up the string process-- carefully lifted all the stray canes up over the line. The honey bees have been going crazy over the raspberry buds. When Rhode Island and I hammered in the trellises last week, one step into a row and it sounded like a beehive- sometimes 6 or 7 bees on the same plant. Today wasn't much different-- thousands of honey bees. They're pretty docile, anything short of hurting or startling them won't make 'em angry. So I lightly shook each plant to send off the bees before maneuvering the canes into place.
It took a lot longer than I'd anticipated to get the raspberries squared away. Then again time does weird things when you're working alone. NYU never showed up this morning, must washing off the White Mountain haze. And the foreman was tied up finishing over the tractor attachment-- then using it to turn over the soil in between rows in the tomato field. It was a one man work crew today.
Back at the farm store I got my next assignment-- cut 5 bushels of broccoli rabe for the CSA later this week. The rains last night cleaned off the plant leaves, perfect for the picking. I towered up my 5 crates, grabbed a long knife, a pair of shears and a bag of elastic bands-- then it was back to the lower fields. Some of the rabe has gone along a day too far and had begun to flower, so I started by marching down the rows shearing off any yellow flower stems-- easiest to get that outta the way first. Then I carried on down the line cutting clean through the base of each plant, clump a fair amount together-- middle finger to thumb (packed tight) making a bunch. 20 bunches fill a crate. I made cut down 2/3s of the rabe row-- so there's still a good 2 1/2 crates left out there. This was my first picking session of the season and it took a few minutes to get up to speed.
Carried the full crates back to the farm store, gave them a rinse and then put 'em in the cooler to chill. It was getting late in the day, only a half hour left-- but time enough to get a few more chores done. I took the boss's van to the forest field to take the cloth cover off the zucchini and summer squash. I pulled all the stakes, rolled up the cloth and checked in on the rows-- things weren't looking good. First-- the woodchucks tore straight through the cloth and dug up some zucchini just for spite. But I thought-- could have been worse-- most of the plants were okay. Then I looked at the Patty Pan squash, out of the entire row there were 20 plants left (480+ lost). Nothing I could do-- so back to farm central and told the boss about the sad state of the squash.
Tomorrow is another day. All out war on the vermin might be coming, but for now the boss is content to bide our time. The clouds are looking awfully dark from home, could be a wet morning tomorrow-- full sun isn't due till the end of the week. Looks like the Farmer's Almanac was dead on-- calling for a cool, wet summer.
Asides:
Talked to the boss at closing, and the days are gonna start getting longer. So much needs to be done, and I don't mind doing it.
The animal population is rising all around here. While typing from the porch a fox ran by with something in his mouth and then a doe just galloped off along the wood's edge. Last Friday two deer nearly ran onto the porch as I sat here.
We'll get by without the squash, but they'd better not touch the tomatoes.
On to tomorrow
The boss was in a great mood this morning. There have been some rough seasons behind us, but last year was a major turning point. The weather was just right-- hot, sunny and dry. In the 300 some years (no exaggeration) that the boss's family has worked this farm, the streams have not once run dry. With water covered, there was nothing to do but grow. With the growing market for small farm foods, last year made him a fortune. This season is riding on the coattails of the last one-- weather isn't as great, but the slack has been made up in muscle. The boss spent a good part of the day basking in success, we're running far ahead of schedule (allowing time to cover all the little details usually overlooked in the rush).
We started the day-- foreman, boss and I-- fixing the a plow/trench attachment for the tractor. It's been a while since I delved a little into our mechanical fun time, so here we go--
The attachment is a wheel-less frame which attaches to the 3 adjustable arms at the back of the tractor. 2 parallel bars, spaced half a foot or so, run width-wise along the frame. Curved plow "tyes" can be placed according to need along the two bars. This attachment has been used around the farm since the 1940s, so it needed a major overhaul. In the past, the boss had bolted tyes together flush-- in order to reinforce them against the soil's drag. The first step was for the boss to take the disk cutter, saw through decades of rusted bolts and separate the tyes. The tyes have three parts: a thick iron attachment to lock onto the frame, a curved ribbon of iron and a thick bolt/housing to connect the ribbon and frame attachment. With the reinforcement's removed, it was my job to muscle off the bolts so they could be replaced. I attached a heavy monkey wrench onto the screw's back (stood on it), then attached the socket wrench and bar to the bolt (and kicked it repeatedly). Once I separated a tye, the foreman set to work. He'd procured a series of spade shaped plow heads to attach to the end of each iron ribbon. The foreman cleaned over all the pieces, attached the spade heads and put the entire tye back together with new bolts.
Once I finished pulling off all the rusted bolts, the boss sent me off on another task-- it was time to string up the raspberry trellises in the lower fields. So I took two rolls of line and headed out. The stringing was slow but easy-- just keep the string tight and avoid snapping raspberry canes. Each row needed two lines to brace up each side. I finished the stringing the 5 rows right before lunch.
After lunch I returned to finish up the string process-- carefully lifted all the stray canes up over the line. The honey bees have been going crazy over the raspberry buds. When Rhode Island and I hammered in the trellises last week, one step into a row and it sounded like a beehive- sometimes 6 or 7 bees on the same plant. Today wasn't much different-- thousands of honey bees. They're pretty docile, anything short of hurting or startling them won't make 'em angry. So I lightly shook each plant to send off the bees before maneuvering the canes into place.
It took a lot longer than I'd anticipated to get the raspberries squared away. Then again time does weird things when you're working alone. NYU never showed up this morning, must washing off the White Mountain haze. And the foreman was tied up finishing over the tractor attachment-- then using it to turn over the soil in between rows in the tomato field. It was a one man work crew today.
Back at the farm store I got my next assignment-- cut 5 bushels of broccoli rabe for the CSA later this week. The rains last night cleaned off the plant leaves, perfect for the picking. I towered up my 5 crates, grabbed a long knife, a pair of shears and a bag of elastic bands-- then it was back to the lower fields. Some of the rabe has gone along a day too far and had begun to flower, so I started by marching down the rows shearing off any yellow flower stems-- easiest to get that outta the way first. Then I carried on down the line cutting clean through the base of each plant, clump a fair amount together-- middle finger to thumb (packed tight) making a bunch. 20 bunches fill a crate. I made cut down 2/3s of the rabe row-- so there's still a good 2 1/2 crates left out there. This was my first picking session of the season and it took a few minutes to get up to speed.
Carried the full crates back to the farm store, gave them a rinse and then put 'em in the cooler to chill. It was getting late in the day, only a half hour left-- but time enough to get a few more chores done. I took the boss's van to the forest field to take the cloth cover off the zucchini and summer squash. I pulled all the stakes, rolled up the cloth and checked in on the rows-- things weren't looking good. First-- the woodchucks tore straight through the cloth and dug up some zucchini just for spite. But I thought-- could have been worse-- most of the plants were okay. Then I looked at the Patty Pan squash, out of the entire row there were 20 plants left (480+ lost). Nothing I could do-- so back to farm central and told the boss about the sad state of the squash.
Tomorrow is another day. All out war on the vermin might be coming, but for now the boss is content to bide our time. The clouds are looking awfully dark from home, could be a wet morning tomorrow-- full sun isn't due till the end of the week. Looks like the Farmer's Almanac was dead on-- calling for a cool, wet summer.
Asides:
Talked to the boss at closing, and the days are gonna start getting longer. So much needs to be done, and I don't mind doing it.
The animal population is rising all around here. While typing from the porch a fox ran by with something in his mouth and then a doe just galloped off along the wood's edge. Last Friday two deer nearly ran onto the porch as I sat here.
We'll get by without the squash, but they'd better not touch the tomatoes.
On to tomorrow
Friday, June 10, 2011
Go!
Today's weather was a pleasant change. Mostly cloudy throughout the day, but the sun was never far off. The temperature danced between the upper 70Fs and low 80Fs.
The boss was in a difficult state this morning-- I did my best to stay out of his way and busy. Rhode Island and I put the back of the farm store in order: re-hung the tarp awning, arranged the produce wagons, installed the air conditioner unit into the kitchen wall and replaced all the trash barrels.
I loaded all the left over trial tomatoes into the new tractor's front loader. Earlier this spring a friend of the boss sent us a package full of different of tomato seeds-- there were maybe 30 different varieties, but also multiple packets of each variety from different seed companies. We started half a tray of every seed type-- to test out the differences between companies and try out some new tomato varieties. The boss gave his friend back 8 or so germinated plants from every bunch of seed, the rest we kept. I headed down to the vacant 1 and 1/2 row by the cherry tomatoes. The boss dropped off the plants and I got to transplanting.
I chugged along and finished a bit before noon. There were more plants than space, so I half buried the leftovers at the woods edge-- Darlin and Viking are rubbing off on me. I headed back to the greenhouse and spent the rest of the morning reorganizing a mountain of now unused planting trays.
Two new kids came in today. The girl came in to get the kitchens started. She's pretty mousey, but she gave me hell last year on account of her disapproving of the high school I went to (long years ago)-- I don't talk to her much. The new guy started cold, but warmed up fast-- he's Easy. I chatted around with him and Viking after lunch. After a bit of talking I set off on a little quest from the boss-- the storm last night passed over without a problem (those erosion trenches worked wonders), but the ground cloth the foreman and I covered over the zucchini and summer squash blew off and was stuck up a tree in the forest field.
I walked through the tomato fields and hiked up the hill path. On the way I found a length of old rope in the field and finally fashioned a solution for carrying around my water. Up in the forest field, after some looking around, I found the cloth and pulled it from the trees. I brought a pocket full of long stakes and re-covered the zucchini/summer squash. No problem.
Leisurely strolled back to the farm store and met up with Easy-- we took up our hoes and the boss sent us to the lettuce fields. On the way down to the lower fields we stopped to sample the gooseberries and strawberries. There were three beds of lettuce, four rows in each-- one bed of loose leaf and two beds of romaine. The lettuce is getting very big-- we decided it would definitely be ready for the CSA next week. Unfortunately, the weeds were just as big. Easy is easy-- we hoed along inch by slow inch, talking about every damn thing that came to mind. He worked last summer in a work crew with the foreman and the foreman's friend. We swapped farm stories and the boss came by (in much better spirits) to share some of his lettuce wisdom.
All the summer men on this farm are fiercely territorial over their tasks, and go to any length to find out what all the others are doing. The same way Jockey had a problem with NYU and Rhode Island in the fields, Easy was eager for a status update. Somehow I've become a middle man of sorts between the mythical boss/foreman and everyone else. Despite myself, I caught Easy up to sped as we finished the loose leaf.
After a quick water-refill break (and getting my paycheck from the boss, who was headed up to the hilltop fields with the foreman to prep more soil for planting), we got started on the romaine. This bed was completely overgrown in a foot high sea of weeds-- it was slow hoeing. We finished up the bed (we didn't touch the 3rd bed) just before closing. Easy and I quickly moved over two irrigation lines-- they were placed in the middle of 2 unused beds the boss wants to till and plant.
At the farm store, I kicked around with Viking for a bit. The girl in the kitchen had pushed out the very first round of strawberry pies, so we stared at them as they cooled. Told Viking where I left all the abandoned trial tomatoes in case she wanted to pick out a few for home.
Wrote out my time card and here I am at home.
Sippin' cold beer on the porch and ready for a shower-- its been a long week. I must have the itch bad-- because as I'm thinking over today to write, half-wish I was working this weekend to get back out there.
Then again, maybe I can finally prepare some soil and plant those tobacco seeds . I need to do some research first-- the father of my brother's friend grows his own, maybe I'll try him for some tips.
Take it easy.
The boss was in a difficult state this morning-- I did my best to stay out of his way and busy. Rhode Island and I put the back of the farm store in order: re-hung the tarp awning, arranged the produce wagons, installed the air conditioner unit into the kitchen wall and replaced all the trash barrels.
I loaded all the left over trial tomatoes into the new tractor's front loader. Earlier this spring a friend of the boss sent us a package full of different of tomato seeds-- there were maybe 30 different varieties, but also multiple packets of each variety from different seed companies. We started half a tray of every seed type-- to test out the differences between companies and try out some new tomato varieties. The boss gave his friend back 8 or so germinated plants from every bunch of seed, the rest we kept. I headed down to the vacant 1 and 1/2 row by the cherry tomatoes. The boss dropped off the plants and I got to transplanting.
I chugged along and finished a bit before noon. There were more plants than space, so I half buried the leftovers at the woods edge-- Darlin and Viking are rubbing off on me. I headed back to the greenhouse and spent the rest of the morning reorganizing a mountain of now unused planting trays.
Two new kids came in today. The girl came in to get the kitchens started. She's pretty mousey, but she gave me hell last year on account of her disapproving of the high school I went to (long years ago)-- I don't talk to her much. The new guy started cold, but warmed up fast-- he's Easy. I chatted around with him and Viking after lunch. After a bit of talking I set off on a little quest from the boss-- the storm last night passed over without a problem (those erosion trenches worked wonders), but the ground cloth the foreman and I covered over the zucchini and summer squash blew off and was stuck up a tree in the forest field.
I walked through the tomato fields and hiked up the hill path. On the way I found a length of old rope in the field and finally fashioned a solution for carrying around my water. Up in the forest field, after some looking around, I found the cloth and pulled it from the trees. I brought a pocket full of long stakes and re-covered the zucchini/summer squash. No problem.
Leisurely strolled back to the farm store and met up with Easy-- we took up our hoes and the boss sent us to the lettuce fields. On the way down to the lower fields we stopped to sample the gooseberries and strawberries. There were three beds of lettuce, four rows in each-- one bed of loose leaf and two beds of romaine. The lettuce is getting very big-- we decided it would definitely be ready for the CSA next week. Unfortunately, the weeds were just as big. Easy is easy-- we hoed along inch by slow inch, talking about every damn thing that came to mind. He worked last summer in a work crew with the foreman and the foreman's friend. We swapped farm stories and the boss came by (in much better spirits) to share some of his lettuce wisdom.
All the summer men on this farm are fiercely territorial over their tasks, and go to any length to find out what all the others are doing. The same way Jockey had a problem with NYU and Rhode Island in the fields, Easy was eager for a status update. Somehow I've become a middle man of sorts between the mythical boss/foreman and everyone else. Despite myself, I caught Easy up to sped as we finished the loose leaf.
After a quick water-refill break (and getting my paycheck from the boss, who was headed up to the hilltop fields with the foreman to prep more soil for planting), we got started on the romaine. This bed was completely overgrown in a foot high sea of weeds-- it was slow hoeing. We finished up the bed (we didn't touch the 3rd bed) just before closing. Easy and I quickly moved over two irrigation lines-- they were placed in the middle of 2 unused beds the boss wants to till and plant.
At the farm store, I kicked around with Viking for a bit. The girl in the kitchen had pushed out the very first round of strawberry pies, so we stared at them as they cooled. Told Viking where I left all the abandoned trial tomatoes in case she wanted to pick out a few for home.
Wrote out my time card and here I am at home.
Sippin' cold beer on the porch and ready for a shower-- its been a long week. I must have the itch bad-- because as I'm thinking over today to write, half-wish I was working this weekend to get back out there.
Then again, maybe I can finally prepare some soil and plant those tobacco seeds . I need to do some research first-- the father of my brother's friend grows his own, maybe I'll try him for some tips.
Take it easy.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
From No Worries to Worries
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.
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.
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!
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