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.