looking forward to spring

Also looking forward to gardening. I'm hoping a lot of folks are because I got very good news today: it's official - Tulip Tree Hill has been accepted as a vendor at the Pennsylvania Herb Festival, April 16-17, in York, PA! The farm's first big event. Just six weeks away. Oh my. On one hand I can hardly wait, but on the other hand, the logistics make me more than a little bit nervous. My biggest issue will be the transportation of all those plants, I mean a VW Bug just isn't going to cut it no matter how cute it is. My plan is to rent a van, but even so, I'll need to figure out some sort of shelving or some such thing. If anyone has ideas, I'd be more than open to hearing them! But you know, somehow I do believe it'll all work out. That the many flats of seedlings will safely make their way to the festival and a good time will be had by all. And by all means, if you attend the festival, be sure to stop by and say hello!

thoughts of spring salads

Here's something I found and wanted to share with you. Yugoslavian Red Lettuce from The Cook's Garden. Isn't it beautiful? After seeing the picture and reading the description, I just had to order a pack of seeds to try it out even though I already had all the lettuce seeds needed for this season. Here's what the Cooks Garden has to say about it...

Saved by a peasant family in Marburg, Yugoslavia, this beautiful butterhead is as decorative as it is tasty. Large, full heads grow to a foot across, with deeply puckered, apple green leaves tinged with pomegranate red. The buttery, succulent flavor pairs well with apples or strawberries for a sweet summer salad.

How can you resist that? Makes the mouth water, is what it does. Especially in the dead of winter when thoughts of fresh greens are dancing in your head. 

If you haven't gotten The Cook's Garden catalog, check it out. Perhaps they don't have as big of a selection as some seed companies, but what they have is certainly appealing. And if you try this lettuce, let me know what you think of it.

you saw it here first

The worldwide unveiling of the Tulip Tree Hill farm logo! (as though you care.)

I've been wanting to work on the logo and for months have had this idea floating around in my head and also on little scraps of paper littering my desk. Finally, this week I buckled down and got it done. It's very close to my sketches and so it must be good to let an idea percolate before proceeding. Or at least that's what I'll tell myself from now on as I agitate about personal tendencies towards procrastination.

At any rate, I'm pretty happy with the end result, however it came about, and am excited about using it on business cards, flyers, signage, you name it.

The new logo has been added to the 2010 plant list so if you haven't downloaded it yet, now's a good time. It's also the farm's new facebook image.

There's another big announcement coming up in the next couple of days. I don't want to spoil the surprise by saying more, but do check back to see what's going on.

early potatoes go in

A cold and rainy day here today – such a contrast to the sunny weekend, part of which was spent in a t-shirt in the greenhouse, prepping and planting the first bed of the year with early Rose Gold potatoes. I started out by tilling the bed twice, before adding a bale of peat moss, some organic rock phosphate, greensand, blood meal, and bone meal. I then tilled it one more time, made a furrow, dropped in the seed potatoes at one foot spacing, and covered them up. Now we wait. Hopefully, this planting was timed so that new potatoes will be on the market stand by early June.

Next on the planting agenda are the tomato seedlings. A little early to put them in, maybe, but they are growing like nobody's business and need to get in the ground.

Also, in the next couple of weeks many of the seeds will be planted for seedling sales at the herb and plant fairs in York, Lancaster, and Quarryville. More details on those events later.

future residents

I got busy this morning and made arrangements for some additional residents here on the hill.

First, chickens. Specifically, Blue Silkies. When you have truly free-ranging chickens, things happen to them. Often unpleasant things. Becoming dinner for hawks, drowning in the sheep's water tank, or falling behind a stack of hay and getting stuck there. Like that. It's sad to find the evidence of a mishap, and thankfully, so far I haven't become immune to it. After all, it should touch us when a creature in our care comes to a bad end. This past year was tougher than most for the chickens and just a remnant remains. And so thirty peeps will be arriving in early May. Silkies, because they can't fly over the fence and make trouble in the market garden. Plus, they're cute as heck. And hey, I need my animals to be aesthetically pleasing.

Next, something I've been pondering for the past year and a half - honey bees. These girls are at least as big a step for me as the bumbles. Although I won't have to work near their home on a daily basis like the bumbles, I will need to actually get into their hive every once in a while. At least once a year if I want any honey. I can see it now - I'll be bundled up like that little kid in "A Christmas Story", except in white. Should be a hoot.

oops, too soon

I received a package today that wasn't expected until early April. Potatoes. Specifically, Russian Banana fingerling seed potatoes. When I placed my order, I accidentally selected early delivery on these puppies. I'll definitely be keeping what I need for planting here, but there are twenty extra pounds that were meant to be sold at the herb and plant fairs in the spring. Perhaps they will still look nice by then, but perhaps not (although, even if they don't look nice and are all sprouty, they'll still be good to plant). Sooooo, my mistake can be your gain! If anyone wants some Russian Bananas at a really good price, make arrangements to stop by the farm to pick them up.  I'll be selling them for $2.50 a pound, and a pound of fingerlings will plant about twenty feet of row. Not a bad deal, really.

spring preparations

Anxious to get started planting, but needing to wait for the proper timing, I finished three projects inside the greenhouse. All using salvaged lumber from old fencing here on the hill. Even though they are "new" pieces, they're pretty rough-looking due to the age of the wood. But since the only cost was some nails and my time they were a pretty good deal, really.

First, a potting/work table...

A heated transplant bed...

Wondering what those two pipes sticking up are? They hold up the heating unit in the southeast corner. There's a matching unit in the opposite corner. While these areas are awkward, square footage is at a premium so every nook and cranny needs to be used. Since the opposite corner is the shadiest and also the coolest (due to the attached barn), I've been pondering what to do with it. Now, with the likelihood of bumbles being part of the equation, that'll probably be their home since they need some shade in the summer heat.

And an unheated seedling bed...

The seedling bed will be used for starting leeks and onions, later to be transplanted outdoors. According to my self-imposed schedule, this seeding needs to start next week.

The main planting beds are marked out and ready to be prepared for planting - just as soon as the replacement belt arrives for the tiller. Maybe by the weekend, which is good since early potatoes are also scheduled for next week.

Seriously, all this talk of planting in the ground seems so very wrong when we are in the midst of our second blizzard within a week. This morning I re-shoveled a path to the barn so the sheep, geese, and chickens could be fed and watered. Looking out the window, it's as though the path was never there. Completely filled in. I'll be shoveling again for the evening feeding. If it weren't for the animals I wouldn't step foot outside in this kind of weather. I hate winter. Is hate too strong a word? Doesn't matter, it's true. Hate it.

hello, spring... are you there? hello?

There is something like two feet of fresh snow out there and although slowing, it's still coming down. Not my idea of a good time at all. The sheep and chickens are huddled in the barn, not wanting to go out and risk getting stuck in a drift. The geese are seemingly happily sitting outside even though they can get in if they want. Weirdos. The dogs went out and played for awhile, bouncing around, enjoying the novelty of snow above their backs, but then came in shivering and covered in snowballs. As for me, after going out early this morning to make sure everyone had food and water, I came back in to quietly go crazy. Happens every year about this time, mid-January through February. A pressure from within starts building, the place deep inside of me that craves dewey mornings and balmy evenings, the scent of freshly mown grass, warm soil, and the feeling of sunshine on bare arms. Winter is to be endured. Spring, celebrated. I'm ready to celebrate. Past ready, really.

vegetables and the bees that love them

I attended the 2010 Mid-Atlantic Fruit and Vegetable Growers Convention this week. So much information! There were educational lectures all day long as well as a trade show which was useful for learning about new products (and I also bought a very nice harvest knife and sharpener for about half what it sells for in catalogs). I'll tell you, since starting on this path of market gardening, there has been almost an information overload. So much to learn and know in so little time. And of course for once in my life I'm not starting out slowly, but instead am jumping in whole hog - so to speak. Of course, this is like heaven to me - I love to read, learn, and keep my mind busy. And busy it has been. For instance: just last week, I learned that a lot of folks use bumble bees in their green/hoop houses for pollination of tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, and squash. Exactly the summer vegetables I'll be growing in mine. Apparently it's better than hand pollination in increasing the number and size of the vegetables. But, I thought, how could a semi-recovering bee-phobe like me intentionally bring bumbles into my greenhouse? No Way, nope, not going to happen. Then yesterday at the convention trade show, was an exhibitor with a display of the little monsters... in a clear plexiglass box to better see them in all their gruesome glory. ick. ugh. eeeeeew. But as a recovering anything, sometimes you have to face your fears. And so I spent some time talking with the very nice bee woman and learning about her "product". Sigh. There could well be bumbles in this farm's future. We'll see.

life

tomatoes

the roving band of hoodlums

This morning, the dogs alerted me to the fact that we had visitors. Going to the door to see who was here, I found the local roving band of hoodlums in the driveway. Looking for trouble. As I went out to greet them, they laughed at me. I laughed right back. We stood there chuckling together for a few minutes before they decided to move along.

These guys have been seen hanging around the area for the past couple of weeks and I'm so happy they decided to stop in for a brief visit today. It's so nice to get company, don't you think?

I offered them a little corn and some chicken food, but they didn't seem all that interested.

'Bye guys, see you around!

got dirt?

This is what my garage looks like right now.

planting for the future

Yesterday the first of this year's seeds were planted. Each plug tray has 288 cells, and two of them are full of seeds now, so there are 576 future plants germinating on my kitchen counter.

Is it normal to love running your fingers through dirt? To love the smell of fresh, moist soil? It's almost as good as puppy-breath. And you dog lovers, you know what I'm talking about here. Smells that make you close your eyes, breathe deeply and sigh. Because for just that one moment, all is well with the world*. How could it be otherwise when innocent puppies and freshly sown earth both exist? So much potential, so much life waiting inside these tiny packages.

I started with the strawberry seeds. Ordered one hundred and was surprised at how small the packet was. And inside that packet was an even smaller glassine envelope. That's when I knew I was in trouble. Strawberry seeds are incredibly miniscule, and nearly impossible to pick up. And whatever you do, don't drop one - you'll never in a million years find it again. You know how the seeds in strawberry jam are so tiny you barely notice them? Until one gets stuck in your teeth? Like that. I poured them out onto a saucer and thought "there's no way there are a hundred seeds here." (There were 108.) And by the way, who's job is it to count and package seeds that are smaller than a pinhead?

Trees were also sown. Yup, trees. Planting for the future. With trees, you are often planting for the next generation. It's a different sort of feeling. First I seeded a couple dozen tulip poplars, or "tulip trees" as they're known hereabouts. Also going in were nearly a hundred apple trees. Un-named, open-pollinated seeds from trees grown from seed that came from Kazakhstan, which is believed to be the original source of all apple trees. After reading The Botany of Desire: A Plant's-Eye View of the World, I contacted the person at Cornell University who is in charge of the apple genetics program or some such thing. As the book says, he'll send seeds to anyone that asks. It must be true because he sent some to me. Now apparently open pollinated apple seeds do not breed true. In Kazakhstan, they grow as shrubs and big tall trees and everything in between. Bitter, sour, sweet, you never know what sort of apple you're going to get. So these seeds I got? They're a mystery. I'll be planting a bunch of seedlings here on fence rows and along the edges of the woods. The rest I'll offer up for sale along with all the other plants. But if you'd like to grow your own, read the book, contact the guy at Cornell and have fun!

*And no, I'm not making light of the terrible tragedies that happen every day all over the world, but sometimes, just for a moment, all is well.

mid-atlantic fruit & vegetable convention

The Mid-Atlantic Fruit and Vegetable Convention is being held February 2-4 in Hershey, PA. Just like this  is my first year to grow commercially, it will also be the first time I attend this event. There are some good speakers and workshops, but what I'm most looking forward to is the trade show. I have my heart set on getting a small hoop house before November of this year, and hopefully the show will have some good vendors. That's right, the big greenhouse project was just completed, nothing is even growing in it yet, and already I'm looking to expand. See, here's the thing - by January of 2011 I'd like to be in year-around production. Which means having enough square footage under cover to make that feasible. So what I'm looking for is a down and dirty, simple, unheated cold house in order to over-winter and winter-harvest carrots and leeks. That will allow the main greenhouse to be reserved mostly for winter salad greens. If I keep it small enough to be moveable, clearly unattached to anything, and totally non-permanent, then dealing with the (no, you're not a farm) zoning officer won't have to be a part of my life this year. And that's a good great thing!

2010 plant list

The 2010 plant list is now official, and starting in mid-April, plants will be available for purchase. All different colors and varieties of tomatoes and potatoes and eggplants, oh my! Seriously though, if you're into growing things, it's pretty exciting.

Now for some facts and figures...

With the exception of potatoes, all items offered are well-grown seedlings in 4" pots and are priced at $2.50/pot. Potatoes are sold by the pound at $2.50/pound. Onions are planted 4 to a pot and can be planted as a bunch of four, straight from the pot into your garden.

To purchase seedlings...

You can find us at three different plant shows this spring*. (I'll post about these shows again as their dates draw nearer.):

Pennsylvania Herb Festival in York, PA, April 16-17

Landis Valley Herb Fair in Lancaster, PA, May 7-8

SECA Plant Sale in Quarryville, PA

If you cannot make it to one of these shows and will simply perish if you can't find a Listada de Gandia eggplant, a Petite Gris de Rennes melon, or a Bloody Butcher tomato, then by all means send an email or give a call to make arrangements for farm pick-up. We'll also be at Eastern Market in Lancaster, but that doesn't start until the end of May, which is pretty late for planting anything other than the true heat loving plants.

*Tulip Tree Hill participation in these events is not yet official, so check back to make sure we'll be there. 

already!

Wow. Let's here it for Johnny's Seeds! I placed my order the day before yesterday, with normal (cheapest) shipping, and today the box of potentialities arrived! My goodness, what great service.

One of the things I'd like to try is making hanging baskets of strawberries. There were plants available specifically for that purpose, but were rather expensive. So instead, I ordered seeds. That will keep costs down for me as well as my customers. If it works, everyone's a winner. Ideally, these puppies will at least be blooming, if not already setting fruit by the middle of May - just in time for Mother's day. What a nice gift, right? One that tastes good, looks good, and keeps on giving.

making lists, and ordering everything on them...

So far, about half of this year's seeds have been ordered - everything I plan to get from Johnny's seeds. The next order to go in will be to Baker Creek. Then just a few odds and ends that neither of these places provide such as sweet potatoes and weird stuff like cotton and licorice. I have to admit to loving the oddball species and varieties - just wait until you see my seedling list! Can you even stand the suspense? Speaking of which, it should soon be available here for anyone who's interested in starting their own plant-buying list.

It's all coming together and starting to happen, folks! Before you know it, spring will be here and all the preparations will begin paying off.

greetings from the gang

Aster (on the far right) seems to be on the mend and doing well.

rosemary buttermilk potato bread

Today just felt like a bread-making sort of day. So while looking through "The Joy of Cooking", which is my favorite cookbook ever (I mean it's good enough to just sit and read like a novel), I found a recipe for buttermilk potato bread. So I made some. But with a couple minor changes, because that's how I am. I added crushed rosemary to the dough and then topped it with more rosemary and some sea salt before baking it.

The book says that after you take it out of the oven, you're supposed to let it cool for a half hour before slicing and eating. Who are they kidding? My whole house smelled like warm bread and it was hours since breakfast! I only held out about 15 minutes before caving in and slicing a piece off, slathered it with butter and orange marmalade.

It was so good,

I had another.

And that was lunch.

yum.

lesson learned

This is Aster. One of the two shetland ewes I brought home in the back of my VW Bug this summer. And of all the sheep here, she's my favorite. Sweet, friendly, gentle, innocent. And as most sheep are, also fairly helpless when confronted by predators. Their only defense, really, is to bunch up and run. So far around here, the only sheep-type predators I have to worry about are dogs. My dogs. aka "the destroyers". And so I have a good fence. However, when thoughtlessness is added to the mix, the innocent pay. This fall, I stacked some spoiled hay next to the fence, planning to use it as mulch next summer in the cut flower garden. On Saturday, two of the dogs climbed up on top of the hay and used it as a platform to jump into the pasture. When I found them, Aster was lying on the ground with the dogs lying next to her, pulling out wool. Like a live stuffed toy. They were so happy and then so surprised when I went berserk. Quickly removing said canines from the pasture, I examined Aster and found she had a rather large tear on the inside of her upper thigh. Of course, this was on a weekend. During a blizzard. Unable to come, the vet talked me through what I needed to do for her, and my brother-in-law (owner of a big 4WD pick-up) kindly went to the local farm store for the supplies.

On the upside, the vet came out today to stitch her up. In the meantime, I became pretty comfortable giving intramuscular injections of penicillin. Funny what you can do when you have to. But it also brings home the fact that veterinary supplies need to be on hand, that you can't always count on outside help. Another lesson learned.

And Aster? She's looking pretty good, so far no infection. I'm cautiously optimistic about her recovery.

The dogs are also still alive.

in the nick of time

Thankfully, the last of the work was completed (wiring and heating) on Thursday in the greenhouse. Just in time, too, because Friday night the snow arrived. Knowing it was coming and that we'd see significant accumulation, I set the heaters to 35°F, just enough to help the snow to slide off. Why? Because allowing a heavy snow load could cause the whole structure to collapse. Unlikely perhaps, but a possibility.

If any of you are considering a greenhouse in the future and want to know how and why I chose what I did, feel free to contact me. I'd be happy to help.

guilty (or is it innocent?) pleasure

Construction on the greenhouse is complete! The only things left are for the electrician to run wire to the heaters, fans, and roof vent; and for the fuel company to deliver propane tanks and hook them up.

I've been going out to check on the temperature the last couple of days and I must say that when the sun is shining, it is just delicious in there, even without supplemental heat. Today it was just to much for me - it was 26° outside with a bitter wind, while in the greenhouse, it was balmy and extremely humid. As the moisture from the soil evaporated, it condensed on the roof before dripping back down - my own personal rain forest. What can I say? I caved. Brought a lawn chair and a book and sat for an hour, basking in the sunshine and warm mist, reading. Heaven on earth.

first snow

The woodland path, decked out in the season's first snow.

greenhouse construction

Construction is underway! However, it's been slow-going due to the weather - one day of sun, then two to four days of rain. They started at the beginning of last week, but have only gotten in three days of work so far. Frustrating for everyone involved. I'm concerned about being in December and not having this thing built. Hopefully the cold and snow will hold off a little while longer.

in December?

Look, fresh flowers in December! In zone 6! They are growing in a protected spot at the front yard gate and must have been fooled by the warmer-than-usual fall weather into thinking it's time to bloom. Their exuberance makes me smile every time I pass by.

Not to be out done are these wonderful irises. Since they are a re-blooming variety their season of enjoyment is longer than you might think, but it doesn't normally last this late in the year. They smell heavenly, so a couple just might find their way inside to brighten the house a bit.

Admittedly, I am a sucker for fresh flowers. If I'm tense, burying my face deep in a bouquet and breathing in their fragrance can make my chest unclench. And in the depths of winter, visiting a conservatory to feel the warm and humid air, and enjoy the smell of living, growing things is hard to beat. It's elemental, and in some way, nearly essential. I highly recommend it.

it has arrived!

The greenhouse arrived yesterday. Or at least all of it's bits and pieces did. There are now boxes of parts and bundles of pipes stowed in the garage. I put a call in to the construction crew so they could get me on their schedule.

Now, the nervousness returns. Next to my home, this is the single largest purchase I've ever made. Normally I go into new things slow and easy. Test the water to see if I like it, so to speak. This time I'm diving in and the water is deep.

Although tendrils of fear curl around the edges of my thoughts, I'm still definitely excited about beginning. Saturday I borrowed a pick-up truck and got a load of leaf compost (for just 10 bucks - what a deal, right?), then on Monday spread it as a top dressing over the topsoil where the greenhouse will be. Once the house is built, I'll be able to start preparing the growing beds.

Fear and excitement - sort of like being on a roller coaster. Hopefully just like an amusement park ride, I'll also have a lot of fun. I think I will.

final fall planting

Yesterday afternoon I decided that it was the perfect day for putting in the garlic. We've had our first hard frost, but the soil is still warm. I tilled under the eight inch high spring oats cover crop and saw some truly beautiful soil - soft and dark and crumbly (all of the mulching and composting and rock-picking is paying off). The sky was overcast and rain was in the forecast, but the air felt almost balmy as I pushed the cloves into the earth. Working steadily, I could see my neighbors were also trying to beat the oncoming twilight and the next round of rain as one baled corn fodder and another brought in hay for their dairy cows. The shorter day length catches me by surprise sometimes and so planting was finished by the day's last light.

pickled peppers

The weather this summer was not real conducive to ripening hot peppers. They grew like gangbusters, set flowers, and even produced many, many peppers - that then mostly just sat there waiting for it to get hot enough to ripen. Poor things. A few hungarians and jalapenos ripened to make red and green hot pepper jellies as well as a bit of hot sauce, but the others just seemed to be holding their breath. Then finally, last week, the lemon drops decided to go for it and there were about a half dozen cayennes that also took the plunge. So this weekend I picked all I could find and made a small batch of lemon drop hot pepper jelly and an even smaller batch of mixed hot pickled peppers. I haven't tried either of them yet, but they sure do look good. And I'm grateful they managed to hang on long enough to give me this much.

Next year about half the tomatoes and all of the peppers and eggplants will be grown in the greenhouse. They should love the extra heat.

twins

I have nothing to say about this piece, really. It was just a bit of fun.

waiting and unfair

waiting...

All the prep work has been done for the "great greenhouse project of 2009". Now I wait. Wait for the greenhouse bits and pieces to arrive, and wait for the actual construction of said structure. So until these things happen, there won't be much new news.

hey, unfair!

This past week, a neighbor just down the road, not 1/4 mile from me, also put up a greenhouse. I mean to say he put it up in a week. I drove by last week and there was nothing there. This week he had a greenhouse full of drying tobacco. And according to my excavator, they didn't have to dig trenches and fill them with stones for storm water control. Apparently the township wanted them to, but relented when told it wasn't a permanent structure! Now wait just one doggone minute! Neither. Is. Mine. Two standards? Or is there something I'm missing? Could it be because he's a real farmer with many acres? Well, not if you're actually going to follow the zoning regulations. If anyone in their right mind would bother to actually look at the two situations, they would be able to see that my land is flat and the likelihood of storm water causing any damage is nil. The greenhouse is surrounded by seeded pasture and there is no possibility of erosion. They would also see that my neighbor's greenhouse sits at the edge of a plowed field which slopes down to the road and from there to the local creek. Huge potential for storm water run-off and erosion damage, not to mention increased potential for pollution of said creek. I am angered and frustrated, but at this point, it's all water under the bridge (or into the creek), so to speak. The trenches are dug and filled, the money is spent. I wish my neighbor had put his structure up before I went for zoning approval, because perhaps then I would have had an argument for them allowing me the same leeway.

I want to believe that this other greenhouse is truly temporary and will be taken down after the tobacco is dry and gone, but that's hardly likely. A more distinct possibility is that it will be there for years, growing tobacco seedlings in the spring and drying it in the fall and winter. If that's the case, I may have words with the zoning officer. Not that it will get my money back for work that shouldn't have to have been done, but so they know I know.

Seriously - priorities, folks. Food or tobacco? Which grower would you give a little leeway to?

Now, I need to go relax and calm down. Perhaps have a glass of wine and read a good novel. Something not about farming.

the princess and the pea

Inspired by the old children's story, this princess is resting on a stack of seven cushions. Near the bottom is a pea in a pod, keeping her up at night.

The cushions are made of ceramic, as is the princess, but she also has wire for hair and a tin crown.

budgets and seeds

This weekend I spent more rainy-day time working on my planting plans and seed lists. And yes, it's very early to be doing this - most folks do it in January. But, working within a very tight budget, I wanted to see if my seed cost guesstimate was accurate. If not, then other things would have to be adjusted down because, well, when growing plants, seeds are sort of non-negotiable. Necessary. Crucial. As it turns out, the seed budget will be a bit higher than previously anticipated. Part of that is because I want to grow several varieties of each vegetable, and so there isn't a lot of savings that could be had by ordering bulk packages of just a few. For instance, there will be over 20 varieties of heirloom tomatoes in all the colors you can think of - pink, white, green, orange, yellow, purple, and of course red. And then there are different shapes and sizes - beefsteak, plum, cherry, oxheart, and others. It all adds up. And that's just the tomatoes. But what fun would it be to just plant "Big Boy" or "Early Girl"? Yeah, not much. So the seed list is long.

Which brings me back to the fact that other areas of the budget will have to be trimmed. Because I'd like one of these. A lot. I mean I really, really want one before the mesclun and other closely-spaced seed needs to be planted. This puppy can plant six rows of baby greens, or radishes, or carrots, or, well, you get the picture. Can you imagine trying to plant 240 square feet of baby greens by hand? At two-inch spacing between each microscopic seed? I can. It's not pretty. So between now and January, I'll be pushing numbers around trying to see how to get this into the budget.

we have water!

Big and Ava are posing with our new outdoor water hydrant. They don't look very impressed, do they? To them, it's a non-issue. They'd much rather be sniffing everywhere that all the strange men have been walking and working. That is to say, strangers to the dogs, not that the men are strange. They've all been very nice. In the last two weeks, there have been tree trimmers, electricians, plumbers, and an excavator here doing work. All in preparation for the greenhouse. Then, in early November, the greenhouse bits and pieces should be delivered, followed shortly by the construction crew. Add to this the four loads of firewood delivered earlier this week, and, well, the dogs are just about to go nuts. There have been more people in and out of here than they've ever experienced before, and while they desperately want to defend the property against all these strangers, I won't let them, so they're quite frustrated. I keep trying to explain that all these strange men have been invited, but only Big seems to believe me.

All that aside, I'm very excited about the new water hydrant. It's a frost-free sort of set-up and so can be used all winter. No more pulling hoses across the yard to water the animals in the summer. No more carrying buckets from the house in the middle of January. Let's all give a hearty "wahooooo"!

I've hauled hoses and buckets for the four+ years I've lived here because when you're on a tight budget, running a new water line is a luxury. BUT, if you have to trench for electric anyway, then adding just a couple hundred bucks more for water seems to suddenly make sense.

digging in the dirt

Instead of digging the run-off trenches, the excavator spent much of the day trenching and laying conduit for the electric and water lines...

From the house,

To the barn. (The greenhouse will be at the other end of this barn.)

Take a good, close look at that pile of dirt. A lot of rocks, with just enough dirt to hold them together. This is why it drains so well here and it's rare you'll ever see standing water, even after days of steady rain. This is also why I hate digging any sort of hole, whether it's for fence posts or trees or anything else, really.

Tomorrow the plumber comes to connect the pipes in the basement. Hopefully the run-off trenches and any final earth-moving will also get done because I'd really like to get things re-seeded as quickly as possible while there's still a chance for new grass to grow before it gets cold.

breaking ground

Today's a big day at Tulip Tree Hill! First thing this morning saw me at the zoning office to pay my fines, I mean fees, and to pick up my permits. Then back home to have some coffee and await the arrival of the excavator. After measuring and staking it all out, he began work with the heavy equipment by first scraping off the topsoil and setting it aside. Tomorrow he'll dig the run-off trenches and use that dirt to build up the greenhouse pad, topping it up with the reserved topsoil.

I just can't tell you how excited I am right now. It's ridiculous, really. But how often do dreams become reality? When does something that is so outside of what you imagine to be possible for your life actually happen?

And by the way, look at that beautiful, low, mid-afternoon October light in the photo.

perched

Above it all, perched on her very tall chair and enjoying it, or wanting to get down if she can just figure out how? Maybe both. As she is torn by conflicting desires, blackbirds are watching and waiting to see what happens, but not helping.

At Diddywopps & Keeffers gallery in Monkton, MD.

endless rainy days

What better way to spend a cold, rainy Saturday in October than to sit with seed catalogs to begin plotting out a plan for next year's garden? And so that's how I spent my afternoon yesterday - sitting at the kitchen table with a gentle fire crackling in the wood stove, dogs lying at my feet, and a hot drink* to take away any remaining chill. Outside, an industrious squirrel ran back and forth, up and down the hickory tree, collecting all the nuts he could, their husks falling, making a hollow kerplunking sound as they bounced among the tulip poplar leaves glued by the rain to the wet deck.

Yes, even endlessly dreary, rainy days have their moments.

The hot drink? Milky coffee with a tiny shot of walnut liqueur.

food for profit

On October 28, I'll be attending Food for Profit, a state-wide entrepreneurship training program which is being offered by the Penn State cooperative extension. It's a one day overview of how to best go about starting and running a food-based business. Best of all, it includes a tour of the Lancaster Edibles Venture Kitchen - a local certified commercial kitchen which is available to food entrepreneurs and producers.

I'm mentioning this now in case anyone else is interested in attending. There's still time to sign up. You never know what you might learn!

"no one with land should be without a job"

I just read a blog post by Gene Logsdon on this subject. Logsdon is a wonderful writer with strong opinions about small farms and farmers - he very much believes in them. Maybe it's just the times, but my thoughts have been running along the same path. There is so much you can do with just a little land, and it really doesn't take all that much. It doesn't even have to be your own, (although if you're going to use someone else's land to farm, you should probably ask first... just saying). Anyway, there are folks farming in cities and suburbs whose total combined acreage, between their own and the rented/borrowed land, is between 1/4 and 1/2 acre. And they are making at least a part, if not all, of their living from it! Amazing, right? Yes, it's hard work. The days are long and during the summer you may be out in the garden every day of the week. But if it's something you love, then it's worth it.

As you know, I'm putting in a greenhouse and starting a market garden. Hopefully next year, a not-insignificant portion of my income will come from these endeavors. But that's all I'm going to say about that - I don't want to run the risk of jinxing myself by putting too much out there, too soon, if you know what I mean.

(If you haven't read any of Gene Logsdon's work, check him out. My favorite book of his is "The Contrary Farmer".)

lasagna gardening

No, it's not about raising vegetables for lasagna. It's about a method of gardening that utilizes a layering system (basically sheet composting on steroids) to reduce the work it takes to make and maintain a garden.

Rather than digging or tilling the soil, the author encourages us to build it up by layering organic materials on top of the soil before planting and then keeping it mulched once the plants are growing and throughout the season.

I'm giving it a whirl on two new gardens this fall in preparation for spring planting. For the herb/perennial bed a thick layer of spoiled hay has been laid down already and more will be added on top of that as fall progresses. By spring the soil underneath should be soft and loose from the work of microbes and earthworms, and then I'll plant the herb seedlings right into it without any tilling at all. For the new cut flower garden, it will be a modified version of this method. the beds were spread with manure, tilled and planted in spring oats as a cover crop with the paths left untilled and covered with wood chips. Once the spring oats have been winter-killed, the beds will get layered with various mulches. Next spring, flower seeds and seedlings will be planted directly without further tilling.

Eventually, I want to do all of the gardens in permanent beds with walkways in between and hopefully do away with tilling altogether. As with all of this, a little bit at a time and we'll see how it goes.

the wonder of flight

Perhaps it's just me, but I think the sensation of flying is one we'd all like to experience. Soaring through the air, the wind rushing past us, the utter feeling of freedom. Getting outside ourselves, out of time and place, and just being in the moment...

This is a subject I've explored several times, but seemingly one that I'm not yet done with.

At Diddywopps & Keeffers gallery in Monkton, MD.

the new low tunnel

Here you can see the start of my new low tunnel for winter growing. (in the foreground is a small fall radish patch, way overgrown.) The hoops are simple flexible electrical conduit (1/2" x 10'). They are fitted over bamboo stakes which were pounded into the ground. Through the middle of each pipe I drilled a small hole and threaded some strong twine. I made a loop with the twine over each hoop so it would stay in place, then at each end, it was tied off to a notched stake. Hopefully this will give the whole thing some stability. Now, don't be too impressed because I didn't come up with any of this on my own - it came from Coleman's book.

Once this was all together, with the onions and carrots planted and watered, I got the roll of plastic out of the barn, unrolled it, and measured it to make sure it was long enough. Of course not. That would be way too easy. Off to the local hardware store.

Back home, it took me most of the rest of the afternoon to get the plastic on and weighed down on the edges. I hope most of this time can be attributed to learning curve because that's way too long for something that's supposed to be quick. But either way, most likely next year I'll do something a bit more permanent by way of structure for any low tunnels that are used. Maybe a wooden base that both hoops and plastic are attached to. Because I have a sneaking suspicion that as windy as it gets here, that plastic may end up in the next county sometime in January. If not before. I may tinker with this a bit more because the way it is now, it's not easy to get into or to vent. And as warm as it still is this fall, it certainly will need venting to let some of the heat out in order to not cook the seedlings.

imagine the possibilities...

After reading a couple books by Eliot Coleman, I am pretty excited about exploring the possibility of growing crops all year long. No, we're not talking tomatoes in January. The expense and struggle of keeping a heat-loving vegetable happy in the dead of winter holds very little appeal. But - cold-loving crops - now there's something to give some thought to! There are numerous salad greens as well as root vegetables that thrive in cool or even cold temperatures.

So this could be a solution to the question of how to keep the greenhouse productive all year long. After all, it's a very large expense which needs to be kept busy. This fall I'll prep the indoor beds, adding any soil amendments that may be necessary. In February and March heirloom vegetable seeds will be started in pots and grown until about May or June. Then the beds will be planted with the heat-lovers - tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, squash, sweet potatoes. In August, Those same beds will be underplanted with salad greens and root vegetables. By the time the summer vegetables are done, the salads should be ready to start harvesting. If the timing of successive plantings is done correctly harvesting should go on all winter with the greenhouse being kept just above freezing, at about 35°.

But for now, although October is way behind the optimum schedule for fall planting, I'm doing a test bed anyway. Just a small one, 4' x 15', covered with a low plastic-covered tunnel. Half will be onions and half will be carrots. Ideally the onions will put on some growth this fall and then just lie in wait for spring. If all goes according to plan, I'll have onions for market next summer before most other growers. I'm also hoping the carrots get some decent growth on them before winter. If they do, then I should be able to harvest them all winter for my own kitchen. There's no guarantee this will work, especially with the late planting, but if it does it'll be well worth it.

things to do, places to go, people to see

At 7 a.m. sharp, the tree guys came and began removing five trees right next to where the greenhouse will live. I hate cutting down trees. For me, it's on a par with ruining books or tearing apart musical instruments. But it needed to be done. Two were silver maples, two bradford pears, and one white pine. All weak trees that could easily have dropped limbs on the new structure. And that structure, I hope, will be a good part of my future livelihood. So bye-bye trees. On the plus side, I have quite a lot of wood chips for garden paths as well as a decent pile of future firewood! Not a bit will go to waste.

Just after noon, I went back to the zoning (no, you're not a farm) office to drop off my paperwork and make sure I have all my ducks in a row. It appears that I do. Next week they'll be out to see the site and by the following week, I should have my permit.

This evening, the electrician came by to give me a rough estimate on hooking the greenhouse up to my existing electrical system. Not as easy as I thought it would be. We're talking trenches and breaker boxes and who knows what else.

Not much about this whole process is as straightforward as I imagined back in the spring. Everything, it seems, is more involved and more expensive than one would think. I mean the project is bleeding money. Every time some new expense pops up the anxiety mounts and the pressure to make this thing pay gets stronger. But it's happening and it's moving forward. And I'm still excited about the possibilities...

books and dogs, two things I love

I love my dogs - I really do. But sometimes...

I bought a new book last week, something rarely done anymore since re-discovering the library as an adult. I used to buy books all the time because I love them so much, but they are just so expensive when the budget is tight. Therefore, new book purchases are few and far between these days and are reserved for those that will certainly be re-read. Multiple times. Which makes buying and owning a new book something to look forward to.

How is this pertinent to the tiny little farm? Well, after recently discovering Eliot Coleman and his writing, I promptly went online to the local library's web site and reserved all of his books that were available. And saw he had a new one out - "The Winter Harvest Handbook: Year Round Vegetable Production Using Deep Organic Techniques and Unheated Greenhouses". Since it's a new book and won't be available for inter-library loan for a year, I splurged and ordered a copy from Amazon. It came on Wednesday and by Thursday I was reading and thoroughly enjoying it. A beautiful book, I was taking great care to not mess it up. (Can you see where this is going? No? Hang on.) So yesterday morning after enjoying the book with my morning coffee, I carefully put it on the end table and left to go to the ceramic studio to glaze a couple of pieces. Coming home, I found my beautiful new book on the floor with it's cover eaten off. Eaten. Completely off. Oh, the book is still okay. None of the pages were chewed and so certainly it's still totally readable, but it no longer has it's shiny new cover. That's in somebody's stomach.

I love my dogs - I really do.

morning has broken

Morning has broken,

like the first morning.

Blackbird has spoken,

like the first bird.

Praise for the singing!

Praise for the morning!

Praise for them springing,

fresh from the word!

Sweet the rain's new fall,

sunlit from heaven.

Like the first dew fall,

on the first grass.

Praise for the sweetness

of the wet garden,

Sprung in completeness

where his feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight,

mine is the morning,

Born of the one light

Eden saw play.

Praise with elation,

praise every morning,

God's re-creation of the new day.

That old hymn, originally an even older gaelic tune, and popularized by Cat Stevens was the inspiration for this piece. It's this sort of song and performance that makes me wish I was a musician and singer. The best I can do is to try to capture the mood, feeling, and emotion the piece evokes.

I might take another shot at this, perhaps making the scene more lush in order to better capture the mood of the song. I'll have to think on it...

At Diddywopps & Keeffers gallery in Monkton, MD.

panic rears it's ugly head and tries to kill the dream

The night before last, while working on the greenhouse budget, I was looking at various flats and seedling trays, and trying to decide which ones to buy. When comparing the different configurations, I thought that if I get these instead of those and arrange them this way instead of that way I could fit 9,000 plants instead of my original estimate of 8,000 in the greenhouse. And that's when I had my moment of panic. Well, several moments really. Okay, it lasted the rest of the night. Because how on God's green earth am I going to sell 8,000 plants let alone 9,000? WHAT DO I THINK I'M DOING? I am a graphic designer and artist, not a farmer! Oh, I ranted - if I could just sell retail off the farm the worry wouldn't be so strong because I could advertise and draw customers here. And I know how to advertise!

Then yesterday, after a bad night's sleep, I decided to forget about it. I mean, if you don't look at the big green drooling monster peeking in your window, then he's not there right? So instead of spending the day worrying and agitating, I tilled the beds in the cut flower garden. Amazing what a little physical labor and positive action will do for your mental health. I can't immediately solve the marketing issue, but I can do this. For me at least, working the earth is calming, relaxing, and centering. No the concerns didn't go away, but some perspective was regained. I mean, if there can't be any on-farm retail, then marketing will just have to get that much more creative.

I can do this.