Strolling on the new field

With the sun setting on a long day of packing and unpacking, we took a walk along the frozen ridges of the moldboard-plowed fields. The plowing, custom work by the organic beef and grain farm down the road, happened on the very last two of days before the snow and cold took over last November. The timing couldn’t have been luckier. One big step towards the new market garden. Well, after all the waiting and work-up, it feels great to be here!

North field in snow

The North Field—I think that’s what I’ve taken to calling it; there’s also the South Field and the South Slope—somewhere around two acres including the sloping perimeter, is the main market garden at the new farm. It looks suitably inscrutable under more than a foot of unbroken snow: what does the soil under there have in store? My look-around in November didn’t turn up anything immediately alarming, and that’s mainly what I looked for, things that could make farming these fields really tough. The few handfuls of soil I dug up were a nice clay-loam similar to the old farm. I didn’t find any super-invasive and tenacious quack grass, and the equally troublesome Canada thistle showed up only here and there in the strips beside the fences and paths. So far, so good, but that’s only the most obvious stuff. On the list of a million things to do over the next three months to get ready for the May plant-out, beginning to know the soil and the lay of the land is way up there. We’ll soon find out. For now, I have to wait…

After the market

Somehow, I always forget to take enough pictures at the market, of things like setting up the stand. It’s really great, how a plain old small town street, in about an hour, turns into a…farmers’ market. For our stand, basic set-up and teardown—canopy, table, sales gear—is only a matter of maybe 20 minutes at each end. Because I don’t drive, our stand is different from most, where a truck or trailer is the usual veggie stand backdrop. Bob drops us off in the morning in a pick-up: a self-contained veggie sales outpost. When it’s all over, with empty containers nested and packing volume much reduced, we get picked up by truck or smaller mini-van. Here, Lynn and I wait for our ride. There are garlic and potatoes left in a basket and a trug, and the four bins contain mostly crop residue, a bit of miscellaneous garbage, and odds and ends of unsold produce. Neat!

Three minutes of mayhem

What at first seemed like a mild three-minute hail storm this afternoon did an impressive amount of crop damage right across the market garden. One of those sudden, short storms that’ve been popping up more or less several times a day built up, rain started to come down quite heavily, this time with a sharp wind, and after a couple of minutes, HAIL joined the action. I went out to check on the trays of seedlings sitting outside the Milkhouse: you could hardly feel the ice pellets on bare arms and the seedlings didn’t seem bothered by the brief pounding. The pellets were pea-sized, in two configurations: smooth, and jagged (the sample in the pic is from a few minutes after the storm ended, with the sharper edges on the rougher pieces already melted off). The hail soon stopped, a few minutes later the rain ended and…sunshine. Great! Not particularly concerned, I went out to inspect (we’ve had small hail a couple of times with absolutely no plant effect that I could notice). Well, SURPRISE!

Crops with fairly large leaves, the squash here and more mature beets, had leaf edges sliced and holes punched right through.

Snapped stems was the most surprising effect. Here, beets were pummeled…

…beans were also quite heavily hit, with severed tops of plants lying in the paths…

…and tomatoes took a good hit as well. I didn’t closely examine the developing fruit, like tomatoes, peppers and eggplant. It looks like there’s some bruising, but I’ll wait a couple of days when any damage will be easier to spot. Overall, not the end of the world, but a definite setback…not welcome.

Tiny farming: it’s a garden party!?

For the month of June, after Shannon, who’d been in the field just about every day in May, and while waiting for Lynn to start full-time for the rest of the season (July 1st!), I’ve been back working in solo mode, which has been, surprisingly to me, a little strange and…unfamiliar. Right now, there are several great people sharing the tiny farm experience (TFE ;) each week, but coming on single days. Here, with Lynn and Raechelle (Tuesdays!), we take an extended Endless Salad lunch break in the backyard. It’s as relaxed and fun as it looks. This, I think, is how it SHOULD BE, a laid back mix of fieldwork and practical leisure. It’s a lot different than the 10-12-hour, garden-obsessed days of the first 3-4 start-up years, when I worked largely alone. After working with Conall right through the season last year, I realized that my original solo mission, one-farmer-one-field mode had…changed. Evolved. To continue to grow on this tiny farm, it seems I’ve taken the path that needs not more production acreage or machinery or straight, head-down hours of labor, but simply more happily committed PEOPLE. Hmmm… Not a brand new discovery, but driven home over the last month. An interesting twist on tiny!

Found: chives, spinach, rhubarb…

Harvest for the second farmers’ market of the season was OK, but still what I think of as kinda found crops. There’s the first market harvest ever of rhubarb, a binful (20 bundles or so) from the fairly giant patch (about 60 divisions) planted three years ago—kinda stubby, compared to the more sheltered rhubarb behind the farmhouse, but tasty all the same. There’s also 15 lbs (6.8kg) of all-lettuce mesclun from the greenhouse, around 10lbs (4.5kg) of new-growth spinach from a few beds planted last fall, 15 pounds of Jerusalem artichoke, some chives, overwintered and in full return in the herb garden, and a few bags of arugula. Enough to keep our hand in at the market, but I’m really waiting on new stuff from the field…!