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

This February, tiny farming for me is mostly about, inside, watching seedlings in a growing number of plug sheets under lights, and outside, watching the weather. In this zone, Feb is a little early for thinking about garden conditions. Well, “normally”, it would be. Now, given the increasingly erratic winter, I’m trying to figure out a new early season production strategy. Conceivably, end of March could be shockingly warm and the ground dry enough to work, and instead of just seeding early peas, I could try some super early field transplants. But then, what if winter happened to come back, not for a day or two of April snow, as sometimes happens, but for a week or two, with freezing temperatures. Early plantings could get killed off, and then I’d need a second set of seedlings! This is how I’m kinda starting to think, about trying to plant around the weather, take advantage of unpredictably good conditions, while expecting some weird bad turns as well. What do last and first average frost dates really mean, given the last five years? Is a 30-year local rainfall average still in any way a useful guideline? Am I…exaggerating? Two days ago, it was 40°F (5°C) and raining right through the night. I was sure the forecast for an even warmer Wednesday would come through to finish off another, fourth big melt-off. Instead, yesterday morning it did a sudden 180, froze up and dumped a ton of snow. Today, there are 7-8′ snowbanks all around the barnyard (from snow plowing). The once and future chickenhouse practically disappeared… ;) Will spring and summer be different from that?!

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!!

This morning, there was a phone company tech at work on the junction box at the top of the drive into the farm. I’m not sure what the guy and his logo-truck were up to exactly, but the picture made me think about tiny farming and the Web. Right now, Bell and an independent telecom company are in an extravagant, introductory-offer battle for subscribers to the newly available DSL broadband service. High speed Internet access has been in this area for years, in towns and even villages, but dial-up was the only easy, painfully slow connection for most farms (we’re on the edge of a village, so we’ve had cable modem all the while). Now, word-of-mouth is that people are signing up for DSL. This could be interesting because, out of 30+ vendors at the farmers’ market, I think this farm is still the only one with a web site. An odd situation, considering that online is really the only practical place for small producers to let people know what they’re up to. With the novelty of DSL, maybe more farms will finally get around to getting online, which is probably a good thing, because it takes more than a few people to make a local market thrive. Just as Tiny Farm Blog has rapidly become embedded in my farming life (BTW, TFB isn’t the farm site), maybe this technology, where you sit in front of a screen and TYPE, is what it takes these days to hook people up in the communities where they actually live… I suspect, in some ways, to at least some people, you’re not all that REAL if you’re not represented online… Even if you’re practically next door! A little weird, but whatever works!

We haven’t had much sun lately, but it came out for the top half of the day today. What a difference sunshine makes, if you have any choice at all, you certainly can’t stay indoors (especially in front of a computer!). In my slow and steady exploration of all the many parts of the barn not used in tiny farming, I snapped a shot of the silo at the south end, looking quite imposing in the bright light, kinda industrial, and still in good shape. This is an old concrete silo, about 40′ (12m) high, used mainly for silage (partially fermented crops used for livestock feed). It was last filled around 15 years ago, when this was a full-fledged dairy operation. Field corn was chopped up and blown up the tube on the left. Packed in, the corn would start to ferment, which helps preserve it for winter feed. Cows apparently love silage! At times, the silo was also used to store dried corn (the kernels) for feed. Hmmm, wonder how to reuse a silo…

The big melt-off is well underway. The weather is not scary, it’s not like a violent storm, we’re wired to appreciate the warmth, but my body knows this is rather strange. A heavy, swirling mist has been everywhere since yesterday afternoon. The temperature remained steady in the 40’s (F, that’s 5°C+) right through the night. Ground is rapidly breaking through the snow cover, which was 1′-2′ (30-60cm) across the garden field. The fog effect is always nice: just about everything looks mysterious and cool, like the nearly dead black locust tree in the farmhouse front yard (actually, that tree always looks good)… View from the field »

New Year’s Day in the field. I wasn’t up to catch the sunrise, so I snapped a pic of the barn…instead. Happy New Year!!

As the day faded into New Year’s Eve, I did a little walkaround, checking the goats and visiting Jack the Miniature Donkey, who’s a pretty good barnyard pal. I don’t see him up close that often (I hear him all summer), but we get along. He’s cool. Along with the goats and half-dozen cows, they’re Bob and Karen’s charges. I helped care for the goats daily for a couple of years, winter and summer, watering and feeding twice a day, experienced the goat cycle of life and death (well, birth, and occasionally, off to the slaughter). But my tiny farming career has yet to directly encompass livestock. Another thing to do! I think, this spring, CHICKENS!

Here’s what I see coming out from the Milkhouse at night, as I head to the house. Facing is the goat barn, with the big old barn out of frame to the right, the farmhouse off to the left behind the rail fence, and the curve turning into the on-farm lane that meets the road. (I borrowed a tripod to check out photos by available light. It’s cool, way more picture possibilities. I’ve been using it for a couple of weeks, avoiding the annoying flash.) The light from the street light-type lamp pools brightly right below and fades across the yard. (Without that lamp, it would be pretty near pitch black around here unless the moon was out.) The scene seems sometimes picturesque, sometimes a little ominous, that desolate, deserted parking lot look…but it’s only the Farm. As far as anyone remembers, the lamp fixture was rented 20 years ago from the provincial hydro company, they still come around every few years in a huge truck with a cherry picker to change the bulb, or tube or whatever it is up there. I could call and find out the details, but at the moment, they’re not important…

Finally got the tiny tractors in out of the weather. The diesel Kubota took hours and some warming and recharging to get started (I should’ve put ‘em in sooner, but I wasn’t believing in the COLD). You can just make out the John Deere riding mower, parked sideways and in for the winter. The Kubota I fire up every few days to keep it limber, and it goes on snow clearing outings, mainly to make paths to the greenhouse. Unheated and uninsulated, the Drive Shed is still the place to be for machines in the cold! This version was built in the 1940s (here’s a view from the other side, it’s sticking in on the left), and like most things on the farm, has quite the history of…use All manner of vehicles, probably in the hundreds, have been stored or repaired here: tractors, cars and trucks, dirt bikes, snowmobiles, buggies and sleighs (that’s a 1977 Ford F-150 pick-up on the right, slowly being repaired by Bob’s son, Robert). The upper level is quite huge. It’s now mainly crammed with parts and pieces—assorted useful “junk”—but back in the day, a pulley system raised and lowered a wooden platform (it’s a manual, open elevator), and as the seasons changed, the farm’s various horse-drawn carts and buggies would be swapped up and down with sleds and sleighs for different purposes. Now, they’re long gone—one sleigh and no horses remain—but maybe they’ll be back!