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

Chamomile tea prevents damping off—I’m a believer! It’s one of those natural but-do-they-really-work remedies, used where more product-minded folks would fork over a few bucks for a bottle of No Damp fungicide… Damping off is the name for a bunch of different fungal infections that can hit seedlings in trays with similar effect. Typically, they attack right below the soil line, strangling the stem just out of sight. Dig up a stricken seedling and there’s a small section of the stem, all pale and shriveling to nothing. It’s pretty shocking to see in action. One minute, your seedlings are looking all perky, and then you touch one…and it topples over! Whooaa! Up to a couple of years back, I’d lose a few seedlings, usually PEPPERS for some reason, never anything major, parts of a tray or two, but enough to be scary. I seed-start in soilless mix, trays and tools are given a good disinfection at the beginning of the season, there’s always plenty of air circulation—all the things these soil-borne fungi don’t like. Still, damping off was sneaking in, until chamomile tea spray came along… Coincidence?

What an odd thought, what image comes to mind: the world of kerosene… And now I’m in it! Purchased new today, at a healthy 35% discount, this small, rather inexpensive, KeroWorld-brand indoor kerosene heater is the core technology in the extended-spring greenhouse plan. The idea is to turn the unheated hoophouse into a barely heated one, by warming it at night so that it stays above 38°F (4°C). That way, I can put out seedlings weeks early, instead of crowding them under scarce indoor lighting until it warms up in April. It should also give the earlier-than-ever lettuce, going into the ground in the greenhouse, a smoother start. This heater is low-powered—10,000 BTU, recommended for 420 sq ft, it’s 640 sq ft out there—but only a wee bit of heat is required. I think. Last year’s propane space heater was quite efficient, but burned too much gas for every-night use, it often went out by itself, and it required lots of ventilation. Plus, I don’t really like relying on pressurized tanks. This heater will hopefully burn low and steady, and it’s pour-to-fill! Aided by a fan to keep the air moving, and row cover on the coldest nights, it should get the job done. This all reminds me of Patrick of Bifurcated Carrots’ comment a while ago about the line between good and bad technology. It seems a personal decision as much as anything. Why don’t I dream about full-blown winter greenhouses, with high-intensity lighting and industrial-strength heating and ventilation, I wonder? Dunno. I just don’t. But an extra growing month in the strengthening sun, and a little less reliance on indoor lights, traded off against some kerosene, well, THAT would be cool!

These technical drawings of a lettuce root system are from Root Development of Vegetable Crops*, first published in 1927 and now in the public domain. This is an incredible book that I just discovered. The text is like a complete gardening course delivered from underground. The drawings record direct observation, the result of years of root excavation. Over 30 (North American) common garden veggies are covered, a chapter each. I can hardly describe how satisfying and…enlightening it is to simply look at page after page of painstakingly drawn root systems! Here, the top two pictures are lettuce at two months and then at three months and flowering. Each square in the grid is one foot. The little side-by-side illustratation shows 3-week-old seedlings, grown on the left in loose soil (nearly 2′ down!!), on the right in compacted soil (and to think, I have 3-week seedlings in tiny plug sheet cells, 2-1/2″ deep!). One look at this and your mind expands!
*I downloaded it from the fantastic Soil & Health Holistic Agriculture Library, an online repository for dozens of excellent books, mostly from 1910-1960, and all entirely free—there are many organic farming classics, tons of great, practical stuff!

The fan is oscillating and the grow racks are slowly filling up. Parsley—curly and flat-leaf—are underway, and there’s more lettuce and some herbs… Fanning the seedlings is particularly satisfying because it does a lot for such a simple thing. I forget where I heard about it, probably from a book, and I’ve been doing it since Year 1 or 2. The idea is that plants develop differently when they have to deal with wind, or rain, or otherwise being pushed about. Seedlings raised indoors lead an extremely sheltered life; providing a bit of a breeze toughens them up, and this sort of mechanical stimulation (brushing is another approach) also encourages stockier growth instead of stretching. It makes sense to me—seedlings definitely wouldn’t be so coddled growing out in the field! I don’t follow a particular schedule, just give ‘em at least an hour or two a day, sometimes more, turn the fan on and move it around every once in a while. It’s easy, sounds good, hasn’t hurt! (I couldn’t remember the arcane term for this, so I hunted it down online and wasn’t disappointed: thigmomorphogenesis! While at it, found an interesting article as well.) The fanning also dries the soil surface, which helps prevent damping-off, so you can’t lose!

Better than Christmas! The first half of the first big seed order, and my first book order in months, both arrived today. Seed every year comes almost entirely from three companies: William Dam, Veseys and Terra Edibles. The first two are both bigger, family run companies, one definitely slicker and more marketing-oriented, with a series of color catalogs through the year in addition to their main one, all kinds of enticing special offers involving free shipping, a call center with almost no waits, y’know, the works. The other is definitely more…”indie”, with a single annual catalog, a written commitment to untreated seed only, and a busy signal more likely than not right through the order season: keep calling till you get through. The third is a tiny company specializing in heirloom seed, grown in-house or directly sourced from small growers. The cool thing about all three is that you’re actually dealing wtih the owners, right to the top. Even in the case of the slickest one, when a seed potato order was a WEEK late last year, the prez himself called to apologize. And I’ve had great, informative chats with various people from all. It’s another small satisfaction, knowing to a degree from where and whom your seed arrives. The book situation is a little different: Amazon.com (Amazon.ca, in my case). It seems like a sprawling, faceless, digital megacorporation, and I long ago stopped keeping track of who bought out who, but as far as I know, it’s still…OK (like, not like Facebook). And it’s downright depressing/futile to browse a small-town bookstore if you’re looking for specific titles (of course, they can always order in, so I do it myself instead). Anyhow, the few titles (selected from a long list of must-reads): The Complete Vegetable & Herb Gardener: A Guide to Growing Your Garden Organically (based on a recommendation), The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (finally…eek! :), The Art of Simple Food: Notes, Lessons, and Recipes from a Delicious Revolution (hmm, high hopes for this one, based largely on a Charlie Rose PBS (US public TV) interview with author Alice Waters; I WILL cook more, but we’ll see if this helps…), Micro Eco-Farming: Prospering from Backyard to Small Acreage in Partnership with the Earth (I have NO IDEA how this came to the long list, I forget, but I did mark it with a bunch of stars…). And then there’s the Linux Pocket Guide, ’cause with blogs and web sites, like tiny farms, it’s usually best to know your way around the territory… Off to start some rosemary really late, and read!

During the growing season, decay is the last thing you want to see, let alone watch. This time of year, what with culling veggies from cool storage, I’m a little more thoughtful about…decomposition. This miniature butternut caught my eye as it slowly returns to its essence in the Milkhouse. I’ve watched it instead of tossing it out. I like it! It’s soft, but seems to be drying faster than it’s rotting… Those little amber crystals, the product of ooze, are interesting: hard, transparent, sort of brittle, almost tasteless… I wonder what they are? I’m sure chemistry and biology would give me great, detailed explanations of the entire process of winter squash decay. But is that…good? Is that what I want? I used to think that understanding how EVERYTHING worked was kinda the goal, you’d learn and learn and learn stuff and become…better. But tiny farming doesn’t seem to lead that way. You watch and you do learn lots of things when they’re useful, but simply tearing everything apart into little chunks of measurement and description, just for the sake of it, isn’t as appealing as it once seemed to be. I think I want to know LESS. Demand simplicity! Let the squash rot in peace… (Of course, things don’t really work that way, do they…) ...here's another photo!

It’s not the politics, it’s kinda common sense… I was drawn into a link today on the Seasons Eatings Farm blog: “This article is informative.” That’s a pretty seductive word, “informative.” Click! And, lo and behold, a whole new chapter to the rather mind-boggling mess of the “organic debate.” Sure, it’s yet another study, and it’s only the preliminary findings, and so forth, BUT, it’s also the first full-blown, government-funded (European Union) scientific investigation of organic food, with seemingly unequivocal results. The reporter of this article is pressuring the UK’s government food agency to change its official stance that eating organic is a “lifestyle” choice and that organic food has not proven to be better for you, to reflect these findings. That’s interesting… Will it be like cigarettes and cancer down the road, class action lawsuits against Big Dairy for knowingly supplying crappy milk that caused premature osteoporosis that led to complications like unnecessarily broken bones…and death? Holy heck! More »

Today, I took advantage of a one-day reprieve from the cold—it was a pleasant 9°C (48°F)—to test the new grass-alfalfa mulch on a bed of garlic. I suspected spreading the light, loosely clumped mix would be more of a chore than tossing around straw, and it was. I first tried dumping it out, but the big clumps took forever to break up and spread, so I switched to pulling it apart by hand. The large bags of mulch weigh next to nothing, so that wasn’t hard, but you wouldn’t want to do it in the wind. Next, spreading it evenly. This proved to be a bit of a puzzle. I started with a hay rake, with three widely spaced tines, but this just slid through the grass, not catching enough to move it around. Out came an unlikely array of other hand tools to try: the compost fork (dark tines, right at the bottom of the pic), the 3-tine cultivator, a regular rake, and a leaf rake with round tines (the wide landscape rake was for marking rows in another bed). None of these worked well. Closely-spaced tines caught too much and cleared areas rather than covering them. I eventually used a combo of the 3-tine cultivator to break up the clumps, then skimming with the small rake to even it out. The results were pretty good, with a fluffy 2-3″ layer down the 50′. But it was delicate, picky work as the grass is very light. There are five more beds to go to refine my method (basically, figure out a better way)! I also planted a final 50′x5-row bed, using up the last of my seed reserve, bringing the garlic total to about 3,000…

The fall rye has stayed low and not gotten too dense, but filled out nicely. As a cover crop/green manure experiment, I guess it’s doing fine. It’ll be there overwinter, and we’ll see how it does come spring. My only concern is that it gets too established and turns into a weed—it’s supposed to be potentially invasive—and that we’ll find out when the time comes!