Everyone knows,
who knows about farming,
knows that there is no rest
Even with everything I've accomplished,
this past year has really flown by,
so I thought I would share exactly what it is
that I do here on Le Farm, from month to month.
January and February...
This is my only chance to do major work outside,
without having to douse myself in DEET.
(I hate the stuff, but I literally would be just bones
with itchy, bloody flesh hanging on them without it.)
(Dead serious. I would be seriously dead.)
This winter work involves pruning blackberries and blueberries,
pruning an acre of grapevines (and to exercise sustainability I
make wreaths and spheres from the vines),
digging new garden space and planning the garden for next year.
pruning an acre of grapevines (and to exercise sustainability I
make wreaths and spheres from the vines),
digging new garden space and planning the garden for next year.
Did I mention that seeds need to be started now?
And, I have to be very diligent to keep them warm.
Good luck. HA!
(Insert a very snide giggle here, unless you have a heated greenhouse, you lucky, lucky dog.)
(Insert a very snide giggle here, unless you have a heated greenhouse, you lucky, lucky dog.)
March...
The ides of March made a mark on Roman history
with the assassination of Julius Caesar...
or the movie directed by George Clooney,
whichever you choose to remember.
I see it as a cleverly disguised impostor that always,
without fail,
brings a heavy, wet snow to the southern states,
destroying any hope of an early spring planting,
unless it is one of the few cold loving plants
that does not mind a thick blanket of slush,
but also notoriously bolts as soon as the sun shines.
... a catch 22.
... a catch 22.
All I can do is wait.
Dream of spring... drink beaucoup amounts
of red wine,
green beer,
and wait.
of red wine,
green beer,
and wait.
April...
I never get too anxious early on,
or I will pay the price and need to replant everything
that took weeks to get grown and into the ground.
The garden has been sleeping under a huge thick blanket of mulch
loaded up from my many leaves last fall.
Can't wait to see that beautiful black loam it produces.
Some spinach and lettuce may have survived the winter garden, but nonetheless, it is very sad to see them go.
They can't survive the impending heat that forces them to go to seed,
so, I have to concede and say, "Aurevoir".
that took weeks to get grown and into the ground.
The garden has been sleeping under a huge thick blanket of mulch
loaded up from my many leaves last fall.
Can't wait to see that beautiful black loam it produces.
Some spinach and lettuce may have survived the winter garden, but nonetheless, it is very sad to see them go.
They can't survive the impending heat that forces them to go to seed,
so, I have to concede and say, "Aurevoir".
A week past the last frost is a good bet for planting.
(I have to be clairvoyant to know when that is...another talent that comes in very handy.)
But patience is a virtue necessity, my friend.
This year, I built a high tunnel that weighed over 500 lbs,
to extend my growing season.
I moved all the pieces 4 times; from truck to gate, from gate to trailer,
from trailer to ground, from ground to tunnel.
(So, basically, I moved 2000# myself, who cannot even bench press 100#.)
May...
This year, I built a high tunnel that weighed over 500 lbs,
to extend my growing season.
I moved all the pieces 4 times; from truck to gate, from gate to trailer,
from trailer to ground, from ground to tunnel.
(So, basically, I moved 2000# myself, who cannot even bench press 100#.)
May...
I have just a few weeks before the heat sets in
to get everything in the ground.
(Btw...Get out the DEET.)
Early blueberries have me hopeful.
They taste amazing and fool me into wanting to pick more.
Early blueberries have me hopeful.
They taste amazing and fool me into wanting to pick more.
I take the bait and become a picking fool, as sweat drips down my back,
and carpal tunnel sets in.
and carpal tunnel sets in.
June...
Ahhhhh, June.
Up to my gills in blueberries.
There's little time for anything else but picking and selling.
Believe me, money is a motivator.
(And, even as fabulously wonderful as they are,
there is only so much you can do with blueberries
before you are really sick and tired of them. Into the freezer they go.)
Blackberries also ripen now, and the window of opportunity
to have my arms look like I have been the prime contender
in a cat fight shuts tight after a few short weeks.
(But, they sure are goooood!)
July and August...
As the dog days of summer arrive,
the unbearable heat cannot be escaped
when you are in the garden every waking moment,
and ironically,
my dogs choose to enjoy the comfort of air conditioning.
I pray for rain, then pray for reprieve from the mosquitoes
that could carry me away...like Calgon.
The garden is in full swing, figs came and went, and by now
I am getting ready for a break. Can't take one, but I am more than ready.
I dream of snow and an arctic blast.
September, October, November...
The garden holds out until the first frost. It turns brown overnight and is my cue to rake and pile mounds of leaves on top,
to nourish it and keep weeds at bay without the need for tilling.
The winter garden is planted early September, after the high heat ends.
Germination needs cooler temps for spinach, lettuce, broccoli, cabbage and kale. Mustard greens and turnips are sown, too.
It really is amazing to have these crops all winter here in the south.
We former northerners are programmed to wait until spring for these beauties.
December...
Time to put up the 12 ft. Christmas tree
and get out the seed catalogues, as my mustard greens
simmer on the stove.
(And boy, those frozen blueberries taste like
spring again, on top of my morning crepes!)
Hmmm...Tonight, I just might pick some lettuce and spinach
and make a nice salad for dinner.
Looking back, it is all worth it...the hard work all year long,
to live this healthy farm life.
Yeah...I get tired,
dog tired,
but it is definitely worth it.
There's little time for anything else but picking and selling.
Believe me, money is a motivator.
(And, even as fabulously wonderful as they are,
there is only so much you can do with blueberries
before you are really sick and tired of them. Into the freezer they go.)
Blackberries also ripen now, and the window of opportunity
to have my arms look like I have been the prime contender
in a cat fight shuts tight after a few short weeks.
(But, they sure are goooood!)
July and August...
As the dog days of summer arrive,
the unbearable heat cannot be escaped
when you are in the garden every waking moment,
and ironically,
my dogs choose to enjoy the comfort of air conditioning.
I pray for rain, then pray for reprieve from the mosquitoes
that could carry me away...like Calgon.
The garden is in full swing, figs came and went, and by now
I am getting ready for a break. Can't take one, but I am more than ready.
I dream of snow and an arctic blast.
September, October, November...
The garden holds out until the first frost. It turns brown overnight and is my cue to rake and pile mounds of leaves on top,
to nourish it and keep weeds at bay without the need for tilling.
The winter garden is planted early September, after the high heat ends.
Germination needs cooler temps for spinach, lettuce, broccoli, cabbage and kale. Mustard greens and turnips are sown, too.
It really is amazing to have these crops all winter here in the south.
We former northerners are programmed to wait until spring for these beauties.
December...
Time to put up the 12 ft. Christmas tree
and get out the seed catalogues, as my mustard greens
simmer on the stove.
(And boy, those frozen blueberries taste like
spring again, on top of my morning crepes!)
Hmmm...Tonight, I just might pick some lettuce and spinach
and make a nice salad for dinner.
Looking back, it is all worth it...the hard work all year long,
to live this healthy farm life.
Yeah...I get tired,
dog tired,
but it is definitely worth it.
