So we moved to the apartment and I was worried that I would be bored. Well it hasn't happened yet!
On Monday this week I'm working. So I'll need to clean before I go in. Oh and get some sleep since I will have worked until 4 am.
On Tuesday Lydia and I are heading for KY to visit Emily, Anders, Joel and the soon to be Joel's little brother. I'm looking forward to seeing the new lambs and all the neat new stuff they've planted and all the work they've done on the place since we were there last. Oh and we're bringing them some more of their things from up here.
I'm going to stay over at Lydia and Travis's Tuesday night, then Wednesday Lyd's and I will weed the greenhouse and clean the garages. Oh and mow the grass and get the trimming done that I didn't get to last week.
Thursday is my day to go out to Tranquil Ridge Farm and make good on my commitment to work for my CSA share. I even bought a bicycle so I can go green while going to the farm for my greens. Now I just have to build up enough strength in the leg/knee that I had surgery on last October. Recovery has been frustrating!
Thursday night I'm coming in to work for a little OT. Then Friday my real work week starts again.
I'm sure I forgot something I need to do, but I'll think of it later.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Another Tranquil Thursday
At Tranquil Ridge farm that is. This was my second Thursday spent working out at the farm. I get there about eight in the morning and stay until two in the afternoon. It works out well now, but I'm thinking in July, August and part of September I'll be getting up a good bit earlier to avoid the heat of the afternoon.
Today I planted 2000 Romaine lettuce seeds in the green house. Then crawled around in the nice brown dirt tucking in strawberry plants. I had dirt on my hands, dirt on my knees and dirt on my backside. It was a wonderful relaxing morning. I got to meet the young man who is working for the farm and we had a nice talk about where we came from and where we are going while we crawled down the paths digging holes with our hands in the soft beds that Nate had tilled and setting strawberry plants.
All too soon it was time to go home. Once again I forgot to bring something to cover my car seat. It had a lovely coating of brown dust by the time I got home. If I keep taking home so much soil they are going to start charging me for it!
Today I planted 2000 Romaine lettuce seeds in the green house. Then crawled around in the nice brown dirt tucking in strawberry plants. I had dirt on my hands, dirt on my knees and dirt on my backside. It was a wonderful relaxing morning. I got to meet the young man who is working for the farm and we had a nice talk about where we came from and where we are going while we crawled down the paths digging holes with our hands in the soft beds that Nate had tilled and setting strawberry plants.
All too soon it was time to go home. Once again I forgot to bring something to cover my car seat. It had a lovely coating of brown dust by the time I got home. If I keep taking home so much soil they are going to start charging me for it!
Monday, April 11, 2011
A strange walk with the dog
Living in an apartment is requiring us and our dog, Honey to adjust. Honey has to be on a leash at all times. And she has to learn that every little kid or old lady does not think she is cute and that she should be petted and played with. I have to learn that people do things that I consider odd, and unsafe and to pick up dog doodoo. (Yuck!)
When I woke up today, I took Honey out for a brisk hike around the apartment complex. (OK so hike maybe is a stretch.) We went out the back door of our building. Squirrel--- Honey tried to chase it up a tree. Along the back of the building to where the sidewalk ends and there is a bit of grass along the fence --- potty stop. Good thing I remembered the required poo bag. Then on toward the play ground.
Oddly as we were walking along between the parking lot and the fence, a car pulled up in front of us. A little boy about 4 or 5 years old got out and the car drove away. Who does that? Just drop your kid off in the parking lot and drive away. He said "Hi!" as he scampered by avoiding Honey's best efforts to get him to pet her. Odd.
We walked on toward the playground. Two little girls maybe 6 or 7 years old were playing there. I couldn't see an adult anywhere. I would never have allowed my kids to play unattended at a public playground with out supervision. Wow!
We walked on making a big circle back toward the dumpster (still carrying the poo bag) and our building. As we were coming down the straight stretch toward the dumpster, I looked out across the parking area toward our building. I stopped. I looked again. Yep, I really did see a tiny little girl wearing nothing but pink cowboy boots and a smile climbing into the driver's seat of that car!! OMG Then I saw another little girl - this one had on a dress but no shoes climb into the passenger side. I just stood there gaping.
Just as I'd decided I'd better do something about these two would-be car thieves, a lady stepped out on the balcony just above the car. I won't repeat what she yelled at those little ones, but they high-tailed it into the building.
I am amazed.
What will we see on our walk tomorrow?
When I woke up today, I took Honey out for a brisk hike around the apartment complex. (OK so hike maybe is a stretch.) We went out the back door of our building. Squirrel--- Honey tried to chase it up a tree. Along the back of the building to where the sidewalk ends and there is a bit of grass along the fence --- potty stop. Good thing I remembered the required poo bag. Then on toward the play ground.
Oddly as we were walking along between the parking lot and the fence, a car pulled up in front of us. A little boy about 4 or 5 years old got out and the car drove away. Who does that? Just drop your kid off in the parking lot and drive away. He said "Hi!" as he scampered by avoiding Honey's best efforts to get him to pet her. Odd.
We walked on toward the playground. Two little girls maybe 6 or 7 years old were playing there. I couldn't see an adult anywhere. I would never have allowed my kids to play unattended at a public playground with out supervision. Wow!
We walked on making a big circle back toward the dumpster (still carrying the poo bag) and our building. As we were coming down the straight stretch toward the dumpster, I looked out across the parking area toward our building. I stopped. I looked again. Yep, I really did see a tiny little girl wearing nothing but pink cowboy boots and a smile climbing into the driver's seat of that car!! OMG Then I saw another little girl - this one had on a dress but no shoes climb into the passenger side. I just stood there gaping.
Just as I'd decided I'd better do something about these two would-be car thieves, a lady stepped out on the balcony just above the car. I won't repeat what she yelled at those little ones, but they high-tailed it into the building.
I am amazed.
What will we see on our walk tomorrow?
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Taters, taters, taters
Thursday was my first day working out at Tranquil Ridge Farm. I am doing a working share there.
What's a "Working Share"? As part of the farm's CSA program I am putting in work hours to pay for my CSA share. Elbow grease for veggies!!
Thursdays I will spend 6 hours working on the farm. Last Thursday we planted potatoes-lots and lots of potatoes. Nate (the farmer) drove the tractor pulling the setting machine. I'd post a pic of this thing but I don't have a camera right now. I'll see if I can draw you a word picture.The setter is green metal it has places to hold baskets of taters or plants and 2 seats at the back with foot rests. You sit on the seat with your feet on the foot rests and a big green basket of seed potatoes cradled between your knees. It has a big yellow tank up top with tubing that runs down to a wheel with triangular cogs. The tank is full of fish emulsion fertilizer (did I mention this is an organic farm). The fertilizer water travels down the tube and fills each hole as the wheel goes around punching holes in the tilled soil. My job was to stick a seed tater in each hole and make sure it got covered with a bit of dirt. Sounds simple- well that's what I thought.
Things I learned sitting on the setter:
1. Keep your eye on the hole!! Every time I looked up or looked away I got behind and had to hustle to get back in time with the speed of the setter.
2. Free range hens can undo all of your hard work if you aren't careful. Nate's hens were pecking up the taters about as fast as we could set them until I got the hang of dragging soil over them and Nate got on another interesting piece of equipment that looked sort of like a cross between a dune buggy and a daddy long legs - the hiller. He made short work of hilling all of those taters.
3. Working on the setter is sort of like playing the piano. You have to have eye-hand coordination, but the left hand needs to be able to do it's own thing not the same thing the right hand is doing. Pick up a tater with the left hand (without looking - remember you have to keep your eye on the hole). Pass it to the right hand. Push the tater in the hole and drag some dirt over it while at the same time you are picking up the next tater.... repeat until the end of the row.
4. Change seats often. There are 2 seats one: on the left and one on the right. When you are on the left you are perpetually leaning right to set your taters. I got pretty sore pretty quick. So I moved to the right seat to even out how sore I knew I was going to be later.
5. Fish emulsion smells like the sea or maybe the sea smells like emulsified fish. Either way by the end of the morning I smelled like the sea or like emulsified fish depending on your point of view.
6. Wring out your gloves and knock off the mud every couple of rows. It's amazing how much mud can cake onto a glove. I looked like I had mud paws.
7. Remember to bring something to sit on for the ride home. I didn't and I had mud on my car seat - lots of it.
8. It is amazing that two people not working all that very hard can plant and hill about 300 pounds of potatoes in a morning.
When we finished I spent a pleasant hour or so plucking baby weeds from the flats in the cozy warm greenhouse.
My first day impressions: I LOVED IT!! I miss our farm a lot. I'm learning a lot about how a larger CSA functions and I'm getting plenty of fresh air, sunshine, exercise and good company not to mention veggies. Who could ask for anything more. :^)
What's a "Working Share"? As part of the farm's CSA program I am putting in work hours to pay for my CSA share. Elbow grease for veggies!!
Thursdays I will spend 6 hours working on the farm. Last Thursday we planted potatoes-lots and lots of potatoes. Nate (the farmer) drove the tractor pulling the setting machine. I'd post a pic of this thing but I don't have a camera right now. I'll see if I can draw you a word picture.The setter is green metal it has places to hold baskets of taters or plants and 2 seats at the back with foot rests. You sit on the seat with your feet on the foot rests and a big green basket of seed potatoes cradled between your knees. It has a big yellow tank up top with tubing that runs down to a wheel with triangular cogs. The tank is full of fish emulsion fertilizer (did I mention this is an organic farm). The fertilizer water travels down the tube and fills each hole as the wheel goes around punching holes in the tilled soil. My job was to stick a seed tater in each hole and make sure it got covered with a bit of dirt. Sounds simple- well that's what I thought.
Things I learned sitting on the setter:
1. Keep your eye on the hole!! Every time I looked up or looked away I got behind and had to hustle to get back in time with the speed of the setter.
2. Free range hens can undo all of your hard work if you aren't careful. Nate's hens were pecking up the taters about as fast as we could set them until I got the hang of dragging soil over them and Nate got on another interesting piece of equipment that looked sort of like a cross between a dune buggy and a daddy long legs - the hiller. He made short work of hilling all of those taters.
3. Working on the setter is sort of like playing the piano. You have to have eye-hand coordination, but the left hand needs to be able to do it's own thing not the same thing the right hand is doing. Pick up a tater with the left hand (without looking - remember you have to keep your eye on the hole). Pass it to the right hand. Push the tater in the hole and drag some dirt over it while at the same time you are picking up the next tater.... repeat until the end of the row.
4. Change seats often. There are 2 seats one: on the left and one on the right. When you are on the left you are perpetually leaning right to set your taters. I got pretty sore pretty quick. So I moved to the right seat to even out how sore I knew I was going to be later.
5. Fish emulsion smells like the sea or maybe the sea smells like emulsified fish. Either way by the end of the morning I smelled like the sea or like emulsified fish depending on your point of view.
6. Wring out your gloves and knock off the mud every couple of rows. It's amazing how much mud can cake onto a glove. I looked like I had mud paws.
7. Remember to bring something to sit on for the ride home. I didn't and I had mud on my car seat - lots of it.
8. It is amazing that two people not working all that very hard can plant and hill about 300 pounds of potatoes in a morning.
When we finished I spent a pleasant hour or so plucking baby weeds from the flats in the cozy warm greenhouse.
My first day impressions: I LOVED IT!! I miss our farm a lot. I'm learning a lot about how a larger CSA functions and I'm getting plenty of fresh air, sunshine, exercise and good company not to mention veggies. Who could ask for anything more. :^)
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The end of the world as we know it!
Let me explain. My daughter grew up in the country consistently insisting she would never live on a farm. When she was a teenager, she would rather stay in and clean house- including toilets than do any of the outside work. She was adamant that she would live in town in a condo. Then she moved back to the farm in the house next door and got married. Still she didn't want to farm. Not even garden.
For Christmas we gave Lydia and Travis two Red Wattle Hogs. For the 11th of February, the gilt, Lucy, gave Lydia and Travis nine adorable piglets. I caught Lydia petting Lucy over the fence the other day.
Then I got a strange phone call. "Mom can you order me this homesteading book I've been looking for." I shook my head and looked at the face of my cell phone. Yep, it said it was Lydia on the line. It sounded like Lydia.
"What did you say?" I asked. I admit I made her repeat it several times just to hear her say it.
Of course I ordered the book right away. I also called my son and told him about it right away. His reaction: "It's the end of the world as we know it!! Lydia's converted!! " He followed that with "What books should I send her? I'll hatch some replacement chicks for her from the Buckeyes."
Since that conversation, Lydia has read The Eater's Manifesto, Animal Vegetable Miracle, purchased her own Carhaarts and barn boots, planned her garden and counted all the canning jars she's inherited. She's asked me to help her garden this year while she gets the hang of it. She's picked through my how to and homesteading library and carried off more than one armload of books.
I was out at her house last week when Lydia plunked herself into a chair and announce, "Mom, I drank the Coolaid. We're homesteaders!"
It sure took long enough! lol Welcome to our world dear daughter.
For Christmas we gave Lydia and Travis two Red Wattle Hogs. For the 11th of February, the gilt, Lucy, gave Lydia and Travis nine adorable piglets. I caught Lydia petting Lucy over the fence the other day.
Then I got a strange phone call. "Mom can you order me this homesteading book I've been looking for." I shook my head and looked at the face of my cell phone. Yep, it said it was Lydia on the line. It sounded like Lydia.
"What did you say?" I asked. I admit I made her repeat it several times just to hear her say it.
Of course I ordered the book right away. I also called my son and told him about it right away. His reaction: "It's the end of the world as we know it!! Lydia's converted!! " He followed that with "What books should I send her? I'll hatch some replacement chicks for her from the Buckeyes."
Since that conversation, Lydia has read The Eater's Manifesto, Animal Vegetable Miracle, purchased her own Carhaarts and barn boots, planned her garden and counted all the canning jars she's inherited. She's asked me to help her garden this year while she gets the hang of it. She's picked through my how to and homesteading library and carried off more than one armload of books.
I was out at her house last week when Lydia plunked herself into a chair and announce, "Mom, I drank the Coolaid. We're homesteaders!"
It sure took long enough! lol Welcome to our world dear daughter.
Chicken houses I have known
My first chickens were the result of much research by my 10 year old self and continually begging my parents. Fifty nondescript white hens found in a classified ad were carried home in carboard boxes in the back of my dad's pickup. And a dog - but that's another story.
My dad partitioned off part of our little barn with old storm sash windows scavenged from somewhere I nolonger remember. A feeder came courtesy of my grandma and her propensity for buying things at estate auctions. Water was supplied in a pan on the floor. For roosts there were limbs nailed higgly piggly across one corner of the new "hen room".
These poor birds never got to go outside. Outside was where the chicken-eating beagle that belonged to my brother lived. Outside - no matter how sunny and green- was no safe place for chickens on our farm.
Later, when my kids where small, we had a mini-henhouse in West Virginia. It was just 3' X 6' and 3 feet tall. The house stood on legs so it was about 30 inches off the ground. One whole side was a "picture window" to let in the light and there were 2 nest boxes you could get into through a drop down door. I liked that henhouse it was easy to clean out through a door set low on the back. You could park the wheelbarrow right up under the edge and use a hoe to pull out all the litter.
We had 3 great hens and a rotten rooster some friends had given us. They spent most of their time in the big chicken yard attached to the house. The three hens laid just enough eggs to keep our family of four well supplied. The rooster was a great defender of his harem from maurauding wildlife, the family dog and anybody else who happened by. We stayed out of the chicken yard as much as possible.
If I did have to enter the yard I used a long piece of stiff metal wire bent into a hook on both ends. I'd reach over the fence and snag that mean rooster's legs in one hook then I'd hang him up from a convenient tree limb by the hook on the other end. I sort of felt bad for hanging him up like that so I'd hurry and finish up what needed doing. Then I'd take him down from the limb. Get my body outside the gate and the rooster still in the hook on the inside. Then I'd set him down and slip the hook lose. He was indignant, but no worse for wear.
More recently when we came back to the family farm we had chicken tractors: big ones, little ones, fat ones, skinny ones, tall ones and short ones. They worked well but all that moving got tiresome. And incidently chicken tractors won't keep out weasels. A couple of late night dashes out to the pens with the rifle in hand and losing an entire pen of half grown turkeys convinced us of that fact.
Then we had an egg mobile built on an old melon wagon. I loved it for the big laying flock we had. The nestboxes were all on the back wall. You lifted up the flap and collected the eggs. Brian had put drinking cups suspended under the wagon. A water barrel inside the egg mobile kept the cups full. Every few days after we locked the hens up for the night we'd hitch it to the tractor and move it to a new spot. Unfortunately, it was the victim of straight line winds. It's amazing how many times an eggmobile can roll down a hill. The carnage was horrible. We lost most of a 100 hen laying flock. Then we went back to chicken tractors. They are low to the ground and low maintianance and the weasels didn't seem so bad afterall. We modified the old chicken tractors with doors to let the hens out during the day. The chickens loved being able to roam during the day. It worked great until we had a plague of hawks and got tired of loosing a hen a day to the Red Tail menace. So we modified what had been our first pig house and and added big outdoor runs for the hens - with bird netting over the top to foil the hawks. And that's where we stopped. My daughter and son in law have inherited the hens and this hen house. It works well for their household flock. There are two seperate sides so the hens can be rotated or one side can be used to raise up replacement pullets. Lydia says there is only one thing she wants to change. She wants to be able to gather the eggs without actually going into the hen house. Having all those chickens milling around her feet makes her nervous.
So what have I learned from this hen house history? First you can have too many chickens. And you can have too few. Second there is beauty in simplicity and ease of access. Third there is no such thing as a varmint tight henhouse. Fourth I think I know what my next henhouse will look like. I'm thinking something along the lines of the West Virgina henhouse, but mobile. Perhaps with wheels on one end and wheelbarrow handles on the other so that it can be moved. Hmmm....
My dad partitioned off part of our little barn with old storm sash windows scavenged from somewhere I nolonger remember. A feeder came courtesy of my grandma and her propensity for buying things at estate auctions. Water was supplied in a pan on the floor. For roosts there were limbs nailed higgly piggly across one corner of the new "hen room".
These poor birds never got to go outside. Outside was where the chicken-eating beagle that belonged to my brother lived. Outside - no matter how sunny and green- was no safe place for chickens on our farm.
Later, when my kids where small, we had a mini-henhouse in West Virginia. It was just 3' X 6' and 3 feet tall. The house stood on legs so it was about 30 inches off the ground. One whole side was a "picture window" to let in the light and there were 2 nest boxes you could get into through a drop down door. I liked that henhouse it was easy to clean out through a door set low on the back. You could park the wheelbarrow right up under the edge and use a hoe to pull out all the litter.
We had 3 great hens and a rotten rooster some friends had given us. They spent most of their time in the big chicken yard attached to the house. The three hens laid just enough eggs to keep our family of four well supplied. The rooster was a great defender of his harem from maurauding wildlife, the family dog and anybody else who happened by. We stayed out of the chicken yard as much as possible.
If I did have to enter the yard I used a long piece of stiff metal wire bent into a hook on both ends. I'd reach over the fence and snag that mean rooster's legs in one hook then I'd hang him up from a convenient tree limb by the hook on the other end. I sort of felt bad for hanging him up like that so I'd hurry and finish up what needed doing. Then I'd take him down from the limb. Get my body outside the gate and the rooster still in the hook on the inside. Then I'd set him down and slip the hook lose. He was indignant, but no worse for wear.
More recently when we came back to the family farm we had chicken tractors: big ones, little ones, fat ones, skinny ones, tall ones and short ones. They worked well but all that moving got tiresome. And incidently chicken tractors won't keep out weasels. A couple of late night dashes out to the pens with the rifle in hand and losing an entire pen of half grown turkeys convinced us of that fact.
Then we had an egg mobile built on an old melon wagon. I loved it for the big laying flock we had. The nestboxes were all on the back wall. You lifted up the flap and collected the eggs. Brian had put drinking cups suspended under the wagon. A water barrel inside the egg mobile kept the cups full. Every few days after we locked the hens up for the night we'd hitch it to the tractor and move it to a new spot. Unfortunately, it was the victim of straight line winds. It's amazing how many times an eggmobile can roll down a hill. The carnage was horrible. We lost most of a 100 hen laying flock. Then we went back to chicken tractors. They are low to the ground and low maintianance and the weasels didn't seem so bad afterall. We modified the old chicken tractors with doors to let the hens out during the day. The chickens loved being able to roam during the day. It worked great until we had a plague of hawks and got tired of loosing a hen a day to the Red Tail menace. So we modified what had been our first pig house and and added big outdoor runs for the hens - with bird netting over the top to foil the hawks. And that's where we stopped. My daughter and son in law have inherited the hens and this hen house. It works well for their household flock. There are two seperate sides so the hens can be rotated or one side can be used to raise up replacement pullets. Lydia says there is only one thing she wants to change. She wants to be able to gather the eggs without actually going into the hen house. Having all those chickens milling around her feet makes her nervous.
So what have I learned from this hen house history? First you can have too many chickens. And you can have too few. Second there is beauty in simplicity and ease of access. Third there is no such thing as a varmint tight henhouse. Fourth I think I know what my next henhouse will look like. I'm thinking something along the lines of the West Virgina henhouse, but mobile. Perhaps with wheels on one end and wheelbarrow handles on the other so that it can be moved. Hmmm....
Learning a new climate
No not the apartment climate, silly. Though balcony gardening is on my to do list when we get moved in. In the mean time, I'm reading about how to garden in the wild, wet and oh so wonderful Willamette Valley. Why, you may ask, would I want to know such a thing? Well, it's not exactly a secret that Brian and I want to move to Oregon when Brian completes his undergraduate work and starts his grad work. So I'm getting a jump on the learning curve or gardening curve in this case.
Steve Solomon should know what he's talking about he's spent lots of time living and gardening in Oregon. In fact he founded Territorial Seed Company. So I am gleaning new knowledge for my future garden. At the same time, I've found quite a few tips and tricks that will work here in the midwest, so I'm passing those on to my daughter and son. One question he hasn't answered yet is: what do you do about the giant Banana Slugs!?! Just thinking about them gives me the creeps. Yuck!!
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