An interesting surprise discovery today, my own little transplanted patch of pigweed, accidentally imported from the old farm, growing strong in the shelter of three relocated and thriving rhubarbs (top right). I suppose some pigweed seed got shaken out of the root clumps of the transplants, and eventually made their way to germination. This is the first time I’ve seen pigweed on the new farm, and it instantly brought back a flood of memories from our multi-year…relationship at the old place. Not unpleasant memories, pigweed is forever a part of this tiny farm experience, still, it’s not missed. Nice visiting, now it’s time for a quick hand-weeding!
moving
Tiny farm moving – Part 4
When you’ve seen one 20-foot trailer loaded with tiny farm gear, you’ve seen ’em all?! Well, something like that… Headed back to the old farm today for the final move, and the only photos I ended up taking were of three buckets crammed with dug-up transplants: thyme, oregano, sage, chives, lovage, tarragon, rhubarb… It’s enough for a small herb garden start—we’re growing new herbs from seed, and may get some seedlings as well—but the feeling of continuity is cool. As for the rest of the load, it was mainly the dismantled farm stand (that is, lots of wood), more spare wood, and a few more hoses. The only more exciting item: the trusty old snowmobile trailer that serves as an all-purpose giant garden cart! And the move is complete…
Fieldwork: Day 1
Sunny and quite warm (not as chilly as Mel’s deep-winter-ready, ear-flapped headgear might suggest). Probably 50°F+ (10°C) in the sun. Not the first nice, dry day this season, but this one became this farm’s official first fieldwork day of the year, just like that. We were only out for around three hours (including a walk to check on the beehives—there are some bees!—and the creek), but got a lot done, so it definitely counts as work in the field!
First, we selected a spot for the greenhouse, moving it from where we’d originally planned, to a more sheltered, overall all more PLEASING site. Pound in stakes at the roughly measured-in four corners, and admire the spot. The stakes are graphite tent pole sections Bob got at a yard sale long ago; flagged with orange surveyor’s tape, they’re great field markers. Normally you can just push ’em in, but here, Mel is using a mini-sledgehammer (above), because the ground is still frozen from a couple of inches (5cm) down…
Next up, sort all the hoophouse pieces. The steel ribs and braces are on the right. There’s a surprising amount of wood involved, and that’s now divided into what goes where. And then, we dumped all the hardware out of the barrel it’d been moved in: a bucket of assorted, screws, nuts and bolts, plus springlock (wire that attaches the plastic to the frame) and aluminum springlock channels.
A surprise find: the last five potted wintergreen plants (Mel is chosing some to take home). I’d put them in the barrel on top of a bunch of parts when we were moving the greenhouse, and forgotten them there. After spending an entire winter totally exposed outdoors, and the last couple of weeks tumbled down into a barrel full of wiry metal, they’re still alive and looking cheerful. Tough and pretty. With minty berries…
And so, the return of the greenhouse is underway. The GH is sorely missed and really needed! Just gotta wait till the ground thaws, so the area can be tilled up and the 3′ (0.9m) t-bar anchors that keep it from blowing away can be driven into the ground…!
Tiny farm moving – Part 3
Headed to the old farm to pick up the greenhouse. It’s only been a month since the main move, but the return to a place where I spent practically every day of the last six years felt strange. Inside the farmhouse, it was just a familiar space, but rounding the corner into the barnyard, surrounded by all the old red buildings—barn, goat barn, drive shed—and then, walking into the field, that was different.
I guess this is the first real attachment to LAND that I’ve experienced. It was definitely unusual, not at all emotional, just a really strong, quiet sensation, a deep familiarity maybe describes it. I suppose the memories of all that thinking, observing, and working, tying together place and weather and ground conditions and seasons coming and going in one long, continuous arc, couldn’t help but leave their own type of mark. So that was interesting! :)
Bob had already started dismantling the farm stand, but that was so solidly put together, with thick, rough-cut cedar, heavy old fence boards, and 3″ nails (if you ever expect to move the things you build, for a few dollars more, consider screws!), that’s gonna be for another day. On to the hoophouse teardown…
The hoophouse is all screwed together, so taking it apart was easy. I’d considered lining up some extra hands for removing the plastic—there was a breeze, gusting to 4-5 mph (6-8kmph)—but Bob thought we’d be fine. And we were: the plastic skinned off amazingly easily, without catching the wind at all, and it didn’t disintegrate or tear…it will live again.
Around five hours later, and it’s all in pieces, ready to load up and take down the road. Going up and coming down are exactly the same, so I decided to take step-by-step pictures when we put it up again at the new farm…
Plug sheets, get ready!
It’s getting near that time when a whole lotta seed gets started—company is on the way for the onions and parsley! I’m still sorting and setting up around here, doing a bit of this and a bit of that every day (an INCREMENTAL approach to the many different things to do on the tiny farm that would drive some people…nuts, but works for me right now! :). On the getting-ready-for-seed-starting front, today I unpacked all of the plug sheets and trays from inside the composting toilet home where they made the farm move. It’s a stack about 5-1/2′ (1.7m) high, still dusty from months of storage on the Big Shelf. It’s a bit of a head rush to imagine all of them being filled, tended, and then moved out to the field in the next three months. Crazy.
Loaded
The Kubota compact tractor is a real work horse, it can do just about anything you set it to. On a tiny farming scale, of course. It’s had to winter outside this time around, but it’s been starting no problem, on first try, after the recent battery change. Who knew that a fresh, premium battery could make such a difference (well, many know, and now I’m one of them!)? Today’s beast of burden mission: moving a dozen bales of rock wool insulation—a last bit of the new seedling room—from the lower barn, up a slope, to the upper level doors on the other side of the building. Three trips instead of 12. They’re not particularly heavy, just big and bulky, so no problem wedging them on the hood. When loading up like this, it’s important not to mess with the hydraulic lines that run along the arms and across the front of the loader. Besides that, just pile ’em on!
Seedling room settling in
Things are moving along on all fronts, some less visible on the farm than others, like calls to locate various local suppliers, supply runs to the nearby village (pop. 2,400) and the bigger nearby town (pop. 70,000), and so on. The actual UNPACKING is going at a steady pace. The photo above pretty much sums things up so far for the new seedling room. There’s still a fair bit of finishing to do, and for that, we’re going to have to work from one side to the other, moving things back and forth. The computer is online, which is good, being able to check things out on the web is a big part of my tiny farming this time of year. I set up a couple of light rack shelves for the seedlings that’ve been started, but most of the lights are still packed away with the composting toilet. Around 25 harvest bins, doing moving duty, are still stacked, contents waiting for shelves—I labeled each one, so it’s not too hard too find stuff needed now. And the calendar is getting ready to flip again!