Tiny Farm Blog Organic micro-farming with two acres and some tools ~ a daily photo journal...

After being there for their birth nine days ago, I couldn’t not keep track of these guys. For about a week now, during the days, they’ve been in one of the yards just outside the barn, eating, resting and ambling around, exploring. They do grow up fast. It was sunny, but icy cold today, with a bitter wind, but the cows seem unconcerned.

Yesterday, the temperature decided to climb up to just over 40°F (5°C) and stay there for the day…and well into the night. Around midnight, it began to rain. By the time I peeked out this morning, it was back to bitter cold and frozen ground, but not before most of the snow had melted away. This seems really unusual, even for the weather extremes we’ve been having the last five years. It’s the second meltoff so far where the ground actually thawed out. Bob, who has an old school farmer’s memory of conditions going back a good 40 farming years, says THIS is the single weirdest winter he can recall…and it’s only half through. I’m not shocked. As I often (kinda… cheerfully) say to people, having started into this growing life exactly five seasons ago, crazy weather is all I’ve known! Before that, notable weather events were absolutely discrete, novelty items in my mind, there was no practical reason to connect one to the other and maintain any sort of continuous memory of conditions over the years…like farmers and gardeners do. Now that I do have a short bit of weather memory to work with, what it tells me is that, in the field, you really can’t count on ANYTHING at all, from one month to the next, and even less so from year to year. “Gone completely haywire” comes to mind. Garden accordingly… It really is tiny farming as an extreme sport!

Started the first seeds of the year today: lettuce and arugula. At night, the grow racks remind me of a lab experiment, with the plugsheets in trays, carefully labelled and sheathed in plastic under the intense white light (fluorescents up close are pretty bright). And there’s the digital min/max thermometer, keeping score. The whole set-up looks like what it is. It’s great! In the beginning, I kind of obsessively (and largely unnecessarily) check every few hours to make sure the soil mix is sufficiently moist, the temperature is above 60°F, to see if anything’s emerged and it’s time to take off the plastic. Maybe after another five or 10 years, it will become simply routine, but for now, every single plant to emerge is still cool and exciting… For this, the earliest lettuce attempt yet, I’ve started five varieties, all with maturity dates of 50 days or less. There’s Simpson Elite (a really fast 40-day) and Two Stars, both green leaf, Granada and Red Salad Bowl, both red, and Sierra, which is red tinged. As a salad mix in any combination or all together, they’re a great blend of colors, textures and tastes. The arugula, Rocket and Skyrocket, intended for the mix, is faster growing than lettuce, but I felt like starting some now (I’ll start some more, later). If all goes well, these will hit the unheated greenhouse in the beginning of March, a good three weeks ahead of last year!

Hard to believe that three weeks ago, after nearly two months of looking like this, it all melted off and stayed clear for a whole week. Well, winter seems to be back for good, although there’s a little bit of warming in the forecast. Snow in a field is interesting for a minute, but…nothing changes. Right about now, it’d be great to have an unheated production-sized greenhouse (at least 24′x60′) , filled with carrots, spinach, leek, some parsley and kale,… One day soon. Until then, it’s this!

The greenhouse is small, and the layout hasn’t really changed in its three full seasons. A row of tables on the north side are where the seedlings go. On the south side, unshaded by the tables, is an open strip, about 8′x32′ (2.4×9m), where I pursue ever earlier lettuce, trying to have something for the very first farmers’ market of the year (it’s the first Saturday in May; last year’s second Saturday is the earliest so far). It’s a simple set-up. Still, every year, there’s one day when I head out there to assess the clean-up requirements and plan what to do. This year, today was that day. A lot of different gear gets stored on and under the tables. It varies each year. Here, it’s mostly floating row cover, kept up off the ground because, apparently, voles don’t like to climb (voles gnawed a hole through a good part of a roll one year…very annoying, imagine unrolling a neat row of ragged holes). Exposure to UV from the sun is not good for plastics particularly, and I do store most things in the drive shed, or the Milkhouse and barn, or under the tables, but things do get left out… Anyhow, this year’s action plan is settled: clean up!

Ahhh, nothing quite like a pile of blank forms, waiting to be filled in, fitted with checks, and returned by deadline. January is the month to get the market garden squared away with the various powers that be. There are renewal forms for the farmers’ market (this form I like to see every year), farm business registration (need it for agricultural property tax rates, and to generally be considered an “official” farm), organic certification (a LOT of forms for that one), and for our spot on the small farm promotional map put out by the municipality. This farm is tiny and local and sells fresh veggies, all of which exempts it from a whole other world of paperwork that comes with organic wholesale, larger scale livestock, and anything to do with food processing. Once my forms are filled in and sent out, I’m luckily able to more or less forget about rules and registrations, and turn to the big garden for another year!

Grow rack lights went on today for the first time this season. They’re only for the rescued…houseplants (orchids, winterberry, heather)—I guess every plant deserves a place in the sun—but, I’ll be starting super-early lettuce soon, a month earlier than ever, for an experiment in planting them out to the greenhouse at the beginning of March. Getting the grow racks ready is another familiar routine. In early summer, I remove the fluorescent light fixtures and the chains and dowels they hang from and store ‘em somewhere (last year, it was on the new Big Shelf). For spring, I dust them off, wipe them down, hang them, and a new seedling season begins!

I suppose you could call these the dog days of winter! Our freakish week of warmth and melt-off are already faint memories, and this year, it seems like snow and cold have been around forever. January is an odd time for me on the tiny farm. Five years have gone by, and I’m still cruising on the original discovery that this is incredibly absorbing FUN, and there’s still a ways to go before the start-up is really done. Heading south for sun isn’t even at the back of mind. Ice fishing is only vaguely tempting. From what I’ve picked up, farming used to be a full-time, day-in-day-out kinda thing. Old school farmers generally had animals, which meant getting away from the farm was not really practical at any time. Of course, in recent decades, working off the farm became a necessity just to pay the bills. And now, the original farmers have all but vanished. Which leaves the new farmers, who I imagine are usually smaller and more specialized, and can treat farming as a seasonal thing if they like. For me, sticking to the farm seems only natural. Right now, I’m buried in bits of paperwork, reading, clipboards of jotted ideas, lists, notes, and it’s now time to set up the grow racks and start the first of the new seedlings. If the clouds and whiteness everywhere do get a little trying, here and there, well, it’s all part of farm living! And spring IS just around the corner!!

There was action in the barn in the wee hours today. A couple of the cows gave birth. Here’s the first new one, around five minutes after his 4 am delivery into the cold barn. This is the second time I’ve watched the whole thing unfold. The first was maybe a year ago. In both cases, human intervention was required, which consisted of Bob with a length of chain wrapped around a pair of calf’s feet, pulling. Last time, he explained it was a dry birth, where the embryonic sac breaks too soon, the head dries out, and, less lubricated, it sticks on the way out. A little feet-planted-firmly tug-o-war type pulling and…a new cow! This time was a little more complicated, a breech birth, with the calf turned right around so its back end was aiming out instead of the head. Particularly with first-time births, the mothers aren’t relaxed enough to let the bigger back end out first. So, the chain was wrapped around the hind legs and attached to a cable with a ratchet, in turn attached to a steel fence post set in concrete. The long-handled ratchet allows the cable to be pulled with more force than a person alone could manage, as long as the cow stays put and sets herself against the pull (which it seems to do, since I guess it too wants the baby out!). Anyhow, some minutes of pulling and then out popped the calf! There’s lots of bloody fluid and trailing bits, and the calf lies there at first like a limp, wet, bloody corpse. But the mother is right on it, licking away, and within minutes its head is up and peering around, and if all’s well, it’ll awkwardly stagger to its feet in under half an hour. Pretty cool! The second mother gave birth around four hours later. The first time watching all this was interesting, a little sensational with all the bloody fluid, the second time it’s simply…satisfying, another really basic part of life that most of us in the modern world just plain miss (we eat meat and drink milk, don’t we…well, a lot us do). I’m not sure about the breeding timing or anything like that, like, Why calves now? With Bob’s cows, I’m an observer, sometime consumer, occasional chaser.

Here’s the second calf, three hours after an 8am arrival, up and tottering around! Sturdy!! It’s fascinating to watch them rapidly get used to their legs, steadier by the hour.