Circle of the Sun

How to Grow More Vegetables, 8th Edition

2012-02-08T07:45:00.000-08:00

How to Grow More Vegetables, by John Jeavons, was initially published in 1974 by John and Ecology Action with the help of copying machines. While that happened before I was even born, I have heard the claim substantiated by folks who bought the first edition long ago, and 35 years later made it to their first tour of Ecology Action's gardens. A few editions down the line it was picked up by Ten Speed Press, of Berkeley, which also publishes a number of other great books (and which has been recently bought by Random House).

It became thicker, edition by edition, as EA's work progressed and the concept of biointensive, and then GROW BIOINTENSIVE, mini-farming was further developed. And, as those of us who have owned recent copies know, it contained nearly sixty pages at the back known as The Bibliography that listed thousands of resources that pertained to sustainability, agriculture, simple living, solar cooking, and the like.

When Margo and I began our agricultural life we had the 6th edition, and soon after coming to EA the 7th edition was published.

Some folks, depending on their philosophy of sustainability, count it as the Bible of sustainable agriculture. We found it as a combination of three sections: a great introduction to principles of successful gardening (in general) and biointensive gardening (specifically), a constant reference for crop-specific flatting, transplanting, and diet information, and a collection of sample garden plans modeling true sustainability.

The first section, once read and understood, I seldom returned to except as a teaching aid. After practicing it the information has been internalized. The second section is known, infamously to some, as the Master Charts. Before attending a workshop at EA they were a mystery of numbers and lists, and now they are a constant companion in our planning. I never took much time with the third section, because it came across as too technical, and I didn't have the attention span for that kind of reading.

For the Master Charts, though, our book has accompanied us everywhere from dining room table to garden bed, California to North Carolina.

The 8th Edition has been published and is now on sale. Small and medium changes have been made throughout, with three large ones I've noticed so far: the technical "sample garden plan" section I talked about above has been boiled down from 20 pages in the earlier edition to 9 pages in the new one, and presents itself in a more approachable way. The Bibliography has been cut out entirely, and is now available online at EA's website on this page. In its place is a list of helpful tools and plans on how to build them. And, most pertinent in our long-term use of the book, the Master Charts have undergone a transformation. In previous editions each set of 20 crops would span four pages, requiring the planner to flip back and forth to get all the information. In the new edition crops are in sets of 10, and span two facing pages. Those who own a copy and have used the Master Charts will know what I mean; it will require some adjustment for us, but will likely be a big improvement.

In other news, we have flatted our alfalfa, clover, onions, and leeks, and will flat our green onions next week. Our pseudo-greenhouse has maintained temperatures above freezing for the last few weeks, which is good. I finished processing the last of our crops from 2011 and now have the yields for all of them calculated and logged, and plan to add a page to the blog that lists our high yields. So our sights are set on 2012 now, with EA's March Three-Day Workshop in Willits coming right up, classes at our local Audubon center on seedling propagation, compost, and bed preparation soon after, and then planting!

Winter, for all practical purposes, seems to be over...

9825

Garden Report 2011

2012-01-30T07:57:00.000-08:00

Every winter we crunch our numbers and do a write-up that summarizes the garden's experience and progress in the past year. (Our 2010 report was posted January 13, 2011.)

Circle of the Sun’s 2011 growing season was a welcome contrast to 2010. We got sufficient rainfall for most crops, welcomed two interns from Kenya for three months (see the November 2011 issue), brought almost the entire 4,200 square feet into cultivation, built enough compost piles to meet our bed amendment and flat soil needs, and started expanding into the corner of the neighboring field.

We noticed a big difference in soil structure this year, in terms of ease of digging, between beds that were dug last year and those dug for the first time this year. We expect the 2012 addition of compost (at the rate of one 5-gallon-bucket per 100 sq ft) will also be a big help to the soil, both in terms of drainage and ease of working. We also found that, despite the heavy rains we had early in the season, our garden drained much better than the surrounding area. Our conclusion, then, is that double-digging alone is quite helpful to a heavy clay garden simply through the creation of pore space, which benefited the root systems of our crops in addition to the advantages already listed. And now, thanks to the “jar test” method, we can give an objective description of our heavy clay soil. During the internship each of us chose a spot in the garden, took a sample, and ran the jar test. The outcome ranged between 73% and 84% clay, 15% and 26% sand, and no silt registering whatsoever. That’s what they call “heavy clay”.

Weather was much more pleasant than last year regarding rainfall, erring slightly on the side of too much. We received 58.35” of rain in 2011. Readers may remember that we put our rain gauge out in 2010 mid-April, so we can’t compare last year’s reading directly with this year’s. But taking that into account, between April 15 and December 31 of 2010 we received 22”, compared with 45.75” for the same span in 2011. Wow! The National Weather Service states our average annual rainfall as 39.58”, so our reading this year registers as nearly 20” above average. Most of that rain came at convenient times, filling our rain barrels just as they became empty. And our crops were grateful for the regular water, giving us generally much better yields than in 2010.

Our temperatures were not notable, with the exception of two-and-a-half weeks in July when the highs stuck in the upper 90’s (a nasty shock to our interns Peris and Mary, who had just arrived from a more moderate climate). It was hot enough that beans had trouble pollinating, and the price of green beans doubled. We were glad, when we asked around, that we weren’t the only ones suffering from that problem! Our highest temperature of 2011 was 102° F in August, our lowest was -16° F in January. Last frost was 30° F on May 5, and our first frost was a hard one, 25° F on October 22.

Our season got off to a great start with timely flatting, thanks to an early spring project. With scavenged lumber and used windows from other people’s renovations, we framed out the south-facing garage door in an out-building and covered it in glazing. As a result, we had a place to put our seedlings that got good sun and never fell below freezing.

Our tally of crops this year looks much better than last year. I’ll start with our two big successes: kale (at left), and sorghum, which also did well last year. Our kale yield astounded us - our 20 ft² area gave us a total of 34.78 lb in its six-month life. That works out to 173.9 lb/100 ft², which is well over the Grow Biointensive high yield! With sorghum we exceeded the intermediate yield again for air-dry biomass, with 52.03 lb/100 ft², and raised the seed yield from last year’s 7.43 lb/100 ft² up to 12.8 lb/100 ft², halfway in between beginning and intermediate yields. Sweet potatoes also performed much better for us this year, the best section of which produced at the rate of 101.9 lb/100 ft². That puts it slightly higher than beginning yield, but more notable yet is that it marks the first time we have successfully grown sweet potatoes bigger around than our thumbs (some this year exceeded 1lb in weight). Also worth mentioning is that the most successful of our varieties came from a friend whose family has been cultivating it locally for over 100 years. That’s acclimatization.

Our other root crops - potatoes, carrots, onions and parsnips among them - continue to have difficulty thriving in our heavy soils, though we expect they will perform better as we add compost.

Cereal grains were a mixed bag in 2011. We grew out seeds from Bountiful Gardens’ rare-seed collection of barley and spring wheat, planting 4 ft² sections of each variety. While some sections only amounted to 7 or 8 plants, we managed to bring all of them to maturity and end up with 3 or 4 times the number of seed we started with. Our winter wheat and rye were a disappointment, maturing to give us well under beginning yields for both seed and biomass, and we attribute that to last year’s drought. We were not able to dig or transplant due to the hard dry soil in October and ended up broadcasting the seed, doing our best to chop it in with a rake.

Many experiments in the garden are devised as a matter of circumstance, and so it was that we decided to do a test comparing transplanted vs. broadcast flax and parsnips. Transplanting the entire sections of each would have required more flats than we had built, so we transplanted half of each crop and broadcast the other half. The results were noteworthy - poor germination and difficulty weeding their random spacing meant total failure of both broadcast sections, while the transplanted sections flourished. It may be worth doing the same comparison each year, simply for the dramatic visual during garden tours.

As part of the Grow Biointensive method we grow open-pollinated varieties of our crops, and put some energy into saving seed from year to year. With beans and wheat that is a simple matter, since the same thing we are saving to eat is what we will plant. Other crops are a little more complicated, but worth the effort for the satisfaction. This year, in addition to the crops whose seeds we eat, we saved from our lettuce, tomatoes, basil and squash plants, and from last year’s parsnips and parsley (at right) which, as biennials, had to survive winter to produce seed. Additionally, we went to great lengths to save seed from two varieties of flour corn. Corn crosses very easily, and our garden had GM corn planted within 20 feet of it this year, so we practiced our hand-pollinating skills and taught Mary and Peris how as well.

I’ll wrap up with one of the highlights of the growing season, which was our first garden tour. We intend to make it an annual event, open to the public, but tested the waters this year by inviting all of our friends and family. Over 50 people came to share food, get guided tours of the garden, hear our vision for the farm, and play in the sun. We look forward to an annual event that showcases the potential for small-scale sustainable agriculture to feed households and neighborhoods in our community.

Many thanks to all who helped to make this season a success for Circle of the Sun through organizing and funding the internship, hosting and supporting interns, coming over to work with us, and giving us advice and encouragement.

Time to set our sights on 2012!

9610

The Perfect Shoes

2012-01-16T07:35:00.000-08:00

I've had many different styles of shoes that I can recall in the past couple of decades. I really started caring in middle school and dove in full-tilt with L.A. Gear high-tops, using the two sets of six-foot-long laces per shoe they provided (in lieu of a photo of my shoes, this one is a good example of their version for girls). Then I moved on to Nike Air, retaining my preference for fluorescent colors with successive generations of the Agassi (at left), named for the tennis star.

But pretty soon, and before I finished high-school (though I'd have to consult my yearly photos), I moved on to Adidas Sambas. I'm not sure why, since they are about as far as I could get from my previous choices and still be in the mass-produced mainstream sportish shoe market (they're number two in this blog's list of "Four Essential Pairs of Shoes and Casual Trainers"). But I think I was growing into myself more, wanting less attention and more simplicity. These shoes have been made in the same style since the 50's - they're just black and white, have a half-inch or so of sole, are relatively cheap, and last for a good while. I would milk them for two years before they would be worn through, then I'd buy another pair. I had at least three, maybe four pairs.

Once I got a pair of Adidas' Campus shoes, which were similar in design but were suede. They tore through the toe within a month, but the store wouldn't take them back. So after I wore them long enough to feel like I'd got my money's worth I went back to the Sambas. Ironically, the defective Campus pair got a much longer second life as garden shoes after I cut the toe and heel off - as seen in EA's harvesting and threshing video at a little past the five-minute mark - nice!

During our first year at EA I got frustrated with the idea that, once my shoes were really shot, they would have to go into the trash. I decided that, from then on, I was going to buy shoes that were made of natural materials (as much as possible), looking specifically for hemp or leather. We went out to the town of Mendocino and visited a store called Mendo Twist where they specialized in "natural" things, and I settled on a pair of La Fuma shoes with hemp uppers and natural rubber soles (at right, threshing). They were on discount. While I believe in the relative strength of hemp, these shoes were not a great example. They wore through, unraveled, and shredded within a year, so I took them back and traded them in for a pair of leather Patagonias. The soles were synthetic, but Patagonia is well known for good sourcing and good treatment of their workers and the environment so I went with them anyway.

They were also more expensive, but in the years since college I have realized that cheap in the short-run can easily be pricey in the long-run. If I pay $35 for a pair of shoes, that seems great. But if they only last one year through my hard labor, I am better off buying the $80 shoes (which is what the Patagonias cost) if they are going to last 4-5 years, which they did. Then they end up costing $16-20 a year, and I save $60 or more over their life by investing up front. But like all things, they do eventually wear out, and these particular shoes were not made to be re-soled. So this fall, after stepping in puddles only to wick water through the holes in the bottom of the shoes into my socks, I started looking again.

Now I was ready to make a bigger step, beyond generally simple, natural, and environmentally thoughtful. I wanted to find something endlessly repairable and completely natural. Repairable, so the shoe doesn't need to be discarded when the sole finally wears through, and natural so that, if it ever does fall completely to pieces, it will break down and not need to be stored till the end of time in a landfill. If a shoe is natural and repairable, I came to believe that it must be leather. Achieving this conclusion, I realized I was going to need to look for the shoes they made "back in the day," when my current criteria were the only way it was done anyway.

I dug up two options. The first were modeled by a friend who does livestock on an 1880's-era working farm north of Dayton, the Carriage Hill Metropark. His shoes, he confessed, are actually the style of the 1860's, which are reproduced in large quantities for Civil War reenactment. They were Brogans, made of leather stitched together with wooden pegs to hold the soles on. Very cool looking, and very durable. He got his from C & D Jarnagin Company, if you want to see the goods.

The second were moccasins, in the general style of any native American culture. I ran into a friend who had gotten a simple pair from Minnetonka Moccasins, and she used them sock-less in all weather to great effect. The advantage of moccasin over brogans is that you can feel the ground underneath you. Alternatively, you can't do digging in them, because the shoulder of the shovel won't feel so good on your foot.

To make a long story - a few months of hemming and hawing, then another month of deciding where to get them - somewhat shorter, I decided on the moccasins. I have some old hiking boots I can use for digging. I went with the Arrow Moccasin Company and got a pair of lace boots with a double sole (at left on my feet, and at right on Alten's). They are expensive to me (having never "invested" in those $170 Nike Air Force 180 Pumps back in 1992) but they will last years before the sole wears through, and then the sole can be replaced.

Being leather, there is a little break-in time required. For the first 10 hours or so these were the most painful thing I have voluntarily done to my feet, short of removing splinters. Since then they have become the most comfortable shoes I've ever owned, and they are not even fully broken-in yet.

Of course, I intend to wear them while working, playing, and walking through mud, but like any new shoe I will be treating them very nicely till they get the first scratch. You will see them on my feet in many photos to come!

9000

Liebster and Other Shouts

2011-12-08T13:02:00.000-08:00

Our friend Cindy Conner labeled us lately as one of her five Liebster Award choices. For those unfamiliar with the movement, as I was till last month, it is a cross between an acknowledgment of your own reading choices, an advertisement to your own readers for those blogs, and a chain letter.

Recipients are supposed to link to the giver's blog, choose five of their own favorite blogs (having less than 200 followers) to pass the award on to, leave a comment in each blog notifying the writer that you chose them, and paste the award icon on your blog.I think this is a great idea for two reasons. Number one, it encourages me to do what I have wanted to do since starting this blog; namely, give credit to the people and organizations that I think people should know about. Number two, there are only six blogs I follow that I read to gain information beyond updates on friends and family, and the award was passed on by one of them.
So let the naming commence!I hereby dedicate as my Liebster Blogs The Gardenerd Blog, My Corner of Japan, Postilius, Turkeysong Blog, and Mojeji Farm's Blog.

Gardenerd.com is a project (company?) of Christy Wilhelmi, who offers classes, consulting, garden design, garden maintenance services, and speaks at events. As if it weren't enough that she does all of that, she is also a prolific blogger, posting on gardening topics so diverse I dare not even attempt to outline the range. Some of her posts center on events and region-specific garden tips for southern California, but many are pertinent to any growing situation. She's a treat to read, and is an excellent resource through the information she provides.

My Corner of Japan is written by a guy named Eric who does some wonderful documentation of yet more wonderful homesteading projects in Japan. Have I ever met Eric? I don't think so... He posted a comment on a post of mine once, and I have been reading his blog ever since. Eric's writing also covers a wide variety of topics. There's the cob oven, the parabolic solar cooker, the rice paddy, the rocket stove, and, of course, the kusakariki, not to mention his family's experience with the earthquake and Fukushima nuclear reactor issues. His posts are short and to the point, but don't lack in amusement or lessons.

Postilius is written by a couple who are friends of my sister. I would describe it as more of a sociologists' kind of commentary, but with child-raising as the focus. Their child, specifically. And it is most interesting to me both because they have a similar philosophy of parenting and my kind of humor. A look at the Positilius "labels" sidebar gives a good indication of their subject matter.

Turkeysong is the name of a homestead belonging to friends we met during our time in northern California. Steven and Tamara are two of the most incredible primitive-skills practitioners I know, and seem driven to share the information they have. Consequently the Turkeysong Blog, written by Steven, is not a weak, trivial, or watered-down thing that only takes up space. His choice of topic and degree of detail are not for everyone, but when he chooses to write about something it is because he's either already very knowledgeable or is currently learning a great deal about it. It's like The Economist of my blogroll. With our little boy running around, I can't usually make it through an entire Turkeysong post at one sitting. One disclaimer - while Steven is a committed and experienced gardener, his leeks are of uncommonly notable size and he is quite proud on that point. You've been warned...

Finally, Mojeji Ranch is the home of two generations of our Schrock friends. Roger and Carolyn have been raising beef and goats for a regional market for many years. Jon and Janelle Flory-Schrock joined them in the past couple of years, expanding the herd (of cattle), brood (of chickens), flock (of goats), confusion (of guinea fowl), drove (of pigs) and whatnot that now call Mojeji home. Incidentally, out of all these blogs, Mojeji's location is the only one I've physically visited. They post somewhat sporadically, and I follow to keep up with what they are doing, but I think that collectively they would have a vast store of knowledge to share if they chose to put it down on the blog. And I think they should :)

Cindy, who passed on the award to me, writes a blog that goes by the name of Homeplace Earth. Cindy is a tireless educator, and her writings are always inspiring to me. She's been living the life we are working into for a good long time, and in that way sets a good example of a practical pace to maintain joyful simplicity. I'd pass her a Liebster, too, but she's already got one, you see.

There you have it - my choice of online reading for the topics of sustainability, farming, and simple living.

As for the other shouts, I'm taking this opportunity to initiate another set of sidebars [coming in the next couple of days] to list some websites and organizations that I find pertinent to our work. As I mentioned above, it's something I have been wanting to do for a while. One of the benefits of the internet is the ability to form loose and flexible affiliations, associations, and webs of knowledge that can build on and enhance a person's interests. On that note, I'll end with one of my favorite Indigo Girls quotes from their song, Tether:

"I see this world battered, but not broken. See, there's a fallow heart, and it's waiting on a sowing hand. You can grow what you want, but one day it's gonna rise up, so plant what you need to make a better stand."

8280

California, 11/11

2011-11-30T12:21:00.000-08:00

We're still catching our breath from the trip west that we took towards the end of October. Since we left nearly two years ago we have been returning to the Willits area each March and November to teach at Ecology Action's Three-Day Workshop, as previously noted in posts last November and this past March. It's a great opportunity to teach and stay closely connected with happenings on site at Ecology and the Golden Rule Garden, but it's also a chance to see friends out there. In March the timing is tight; since much of our garden is in its infancy as needy seedlings in flats, we rush out to the workshop and back. But in November the winter crops are in, growth is slow, and we have more time.

So this November we decided to do the big trip, swinging through southern California where I lived for a couple of years and made friends that remain important to us. Then on the other side of the workshop we visited as many of our friends in the Bay Area as we could. In all, we were away from home for three weeks. We both imagined Alten would have a hard time with the trip, but he thrived on the time spent with folks we know well, who all wanted to meet him badly. A brief account follows:

First stop was LAX, that beast of an airport that is simply too big and busy to be pleasant. Luckily our time there was short, and our friend Robin (at right, giving Alten her watch) picked us right up. We had to wait on the checked bag, of course. I want it noted, by the way, that we had only one checked bag, two backpacks, and a car seat, for three weeks of travel with a 17-month-old. Thank you for your applause.

We stayed with Robin in Carbon Canyon, an unlikely piece of land in the LA area in that it is not completely encrusted with concrete. Her place is an approximately 575 ft² cabin which, having now experienced it, we consider to be a great size for a home. You can clean the whole thing thoroughly in an hour! Robin has noted that the same people who seem shocked at how small her space is also comment how much easier life would be for them if their own house were that size. She took us hiking, seeing friends, surfing, and hanging out. Alten is still talking about the surfing.

Then we stayed a few days with Shawn and Ryan, who pursue music, gardening, healthy living, and delicious food. While during waking hours Alten competed with their small dog Meeko for food scraps, they were seen to sleep happily together at nap time. And Alten got his first up-close look at a squirrel, which was in turn looking for food right outside the front window (at left are pictured me, Alten and Shawn). While there, we saw all our friends, rode motorcycles with Kevin, played volleyball, ate Mediterranean, had great conversation, and got to see our friend Frank Wayne's urban homestead in Cypress.. Alten would add that he saw a zebra truck (you can see the very one here), saw palm trees, and got to play on a slide for the first time.

We then traveled to Willits via Amtrak, which involved a two hour bus ride, five hour train ride, then another three hours on the bus. So, really, only slightly different from Greyhound. It was an exhausting day, but we did get where we were going. Ellen Bartholomew picked us up and took us to Christ's Church of the Golden Rule, where we had lived for the second two years of our time with Ecology Action.

Our trips to Willits are always full with visiting friends, so on this one we scheduled an extra few days to slow the pace a little. Despite that our time quickly filled. Tuesday night of our visits always means Aikido at the Willits dojo, and Wednesday is Aikido at the Ukiah dojo. We have meals with the Golden Rule community, Carol Cox, the Jeavons', our Willits Spinning Guild people, and a few other friends. We stop by Bountiful Gardens, we try to see our Quaker meeting friends, the head librarian of the Willits branch, and our good ol' dentist's office. And this time we added to the mix a trip up the road a ways to Polcum Springs, an intentional community that seeks to nurture the natural world as well as its own members. We visited a friend who lives there, and through the tour and explanation of its history were impressed with the creativity and forethought that has been a part of its foundation. And next time we go we will follow the advice of the hand-painted sign posted as you turn off of Highway 101: "Use 4WD. If you don't have it, buy a truck that does."

Throughout the visit we got to spend time here and there with the current Golden Rule Garden interns, Fernanda, Luke, and Rashid, and the field coordinator and his wife, Randy and Amy.

Then, of course, comes the workshop! I can't speak highly enough of the participants in general, but the attendees of this workshop, specifically, were incredibly positive. It is always a joy to interact with folks who are all there to learn more about treating their own piece of land better. There are beginners, there are folks working in other countries, there are entrepreneurs, and there are experienced gardeners who'd like to learn more about GB. And their energy always leaves me empowered to continue our work here with renewed vigor.

I'd post photos from the workshop, but our camera was out of commission just then. If anyone wants to send some of their own, I'd gladly post them :)

After the Three Day Workshop we had a few more days planned to visit friends in the Bay Area. First came Bridget, who has a boat in Oakland. It's beautiful inside and out, and inspires me to sail around the world. Unfortunately I could only spend about 20 minutes on it at a time before feeling quite ill from motion sickness. The next day we got a chance to meet Samuel Nderitu, Peris' husband. He was attending the Community Food Security Coalition conference, where he accepted an honorable mention for the 2011 Food Sovereignty Prize on behalf of G-BIACK. It was great to meet him, and encouraging to hear how active G-BIACK is and how much more they will be doing in the coming year.

We headed over to visit our friend Tina for the next evening, and spent some relaxing time talking and singing with her. It is a mark of how familiar we are with her space that, though the BART roars past less than a block away, we slept fine.
Finally, we traveled (by that very same BART) to Pacifica/Monterra to visit Loretta and Alan, who have active roles in the Pacifica Gardens project (above). I am inspired by the accomplishments that have come from its 3½ year history, and can't wait to see what the next few years bring. The project just had its 3rd annual "100-Mile Meal" fundraising dinner, which is a big hit, and which I wish I could have attended. The nasturtium-leaf pesto alone would have been worth it.

As a bonus trip, mere days after returning, we left for northern Ohio to attend a camping conference. Among the highlights of that trip were 1) hand-cranking ice-cream, 2) presenting a 2-hour class on Grow Biointensive and the relevance of a functional garden to a camp, and 3) visiting Lehman's Hardware and Appliances, which was about five times more overwhelming than their mail-order catalog. As part of our class we had participants come up with creative ideas for designing sustainable gardens with summer camp applications (pictured at left).

Now, with our travels behind us, we are left to contemplate the rest of our winter season. Before the ground thaws out in the spring we hope to have formed the bones of a 10-year plan for Circle of the Sun, including housing, water, land use, educational program, garden expansion, and perennials. Whew! Hope this winter is a long, harsh one...

8020

Composting 102

2011-10-31T00:27:00.000-07:00

This post is meant to follow Composting 101 . Originally published in the Golden Rule Garden blog, it's been updated for Circle of the Sun.

Alright, now for some application of the principles. First, where does one acquire such copious amounts of mature and immature material? There are three options: don't worry about it and build piles with what you've got, scavenge from your neighborhood or surrounding land, or plan to grow enough of what you need. Each option has its upside and downside.

Using what you have available is easiest, but does not always end in a balanced pile. Usually you will be heavier on the immature material, unless you buy a bale of straw, which leads to the second option.

Scavenging from the woods, fields, lawns and farm supply stores can also lead to an unbalanced pile, but that is less likely. The only three objections I can think of are that it might cost money, the material may have qualities you don't want to introduce to your system (like pesticides, weed seeds, etc.), and you would technically be stealing fertility from another source. Granted, the local coffee shop may only have one other outlet for all those grounds (the trash) but you are still importing it to your system. Obviously this last objection is more philosophy than practicality. The farmer we learned from in our first internship made a deal with the township that, when they went around in the fall collecting leaves from curbs, they would dump them on his farm. He would then mix these massive piles with some nitrogenous material (horse manure) and let it compost. Often, when spreading this compost, we would find little plastic toys that got raked up with the leaves. It kept us amused... and sometimes made us wonder what else the leaves carried with them. But this farmer had found an incredible amount of mature material, delivered right to his farm, for free. And you can't really argue about the practicality of that. He was farming on a market scale, though, where most of the farm's nutrients are being exported as food. You have to balance things somehow.
Ok, so addressing the first point of the second paragraph: a pile that is unbalanced, favoring the immature. For the record, "unbalanced" is completely relative here, because things will compost no matter what. But when we are trying to get the best possible result, we should keep an eye on what goes in. Allow me to dig briefly into the biology of the compost pile: Once you have built it, the microorganisms in the environment go to work, assuming there is enough moisture. They consume, among other items, nitrogen, carbon, and oxygen. Unless the pile is too wet, in which case the pile turns anaerobic, meaning the microorganisms doing the work operate without oxygen. This will smell bad, your neighbors will resent you, and the finished product will not be so pleasant. I speak from experience.
But assuming it is aerobic, meaning oxygen is involved, your compost will smell nice or not at all. As the microorganisms go to work their metabolisms rise and with it their temperature, so much so that the temperature of the whole pile rises. Eventually it will get too hot for the active population of microbes, at which point other populations will become active. This continues until the material available to the microbes is consumed by them.
How hot does it get? That depends on the food you are presenting to the microbes. Two things will affect temperature most: the amount of immature material and the amount of oxygen. If you build a pile only out of grass clippings your pile may get quite hot, upwards of 180° F. If you forget to apply water to a pile of grass clippings and chicken manure (which is HIGH in available nitrogen) it can conceivably get hot enough to combust. Don't try this at home, kids. When a pile gets turned, oxygen is brought into the system in new quantities, which will cause the microbes to become active again, heating up the pile.
Heat is beneficial, to a degree (ha!). It means things are working, and at a faster pace than if the temperature were lower. But at a certain level heat becomes unproductive, causing some of the nutrients to which you'd like to hold on turn into gases and exit the pile. Additionally, high heat will kill populations of microbes. Which is actually the point in some composting schools of thought. If you can get your compost pile to reach 160° F or more it will kill most of the disease-causing microbes and many of the seeds that made it into the pile. The downside is that, along with most of the pathogens, all of the beneficial microbes will be killed off. And what holds your garden's diseases in check? Beneficial microbes. So all you have left in your pile is the most tenacious population. In Grow Biointensive we aim not to eradicate negative populations, but keep them balanced by the beneficial populations.
What, then, is the ideal temperature? We aim for no higher than 140° F. Oops! How did that picture get there? We have compost thermometers with 18" probes to get to the middle - a very handy educational tool. This pile got a little too warm by our standards. The photo at right showcases a more reasonable temperature.
These are both examples of classic late-spring piles. Our mature materials from the year before are almost used up, but we still have immature cover crops to pull out. These immature crops are becoming more and more mature in quality, but still have that slightly higher nitrogen content. So the piles, like the days, tend to be warmer. In the fall we have lots and lots of mature material but not much immature. They tend to be cooler. The air temperature plays a role, too. If it is freezing outside you probably won't have a 140° F pile.
As to the turning, it is a trade-off. Some nutrients will be lost in the turning, it's true, but if you don't turn it at least once the materials on the edges of the pile will not break down. We generally compromise by turning each pile once. (For the uninitiated, turning involves taking the pile, fork-full by fork-full, and rebuilding it in a neighboring location. Not flipping it over all at once.) There are contraptions called "Compost Tumblers", which are drums that pivot on a horizontal axis. They allow you to put your materials in and turn them as often as you like. Once again, more oxygen, higher heat, and cured compost faster. With greater nutrient loss.
What is turning into a series will probably wrap up with the third post, which will cover manure, undesirable material, compost quantities, and miscellaneous other. Enjoy!

7491

Adventures in Solar Cookery

2011-10-20T05:00:00.000-07:00

This summer with Peris and Mary we explored a subject that has great potential in Kenya, as it does here: solar cooking. In Kenya a significant amount of time and/or money goes into fuel for cooking. Either you pay for coal, gas, or wood, or you wander far and wide (and risk assault) looking for a source of wood, which is scarce in the largely deforested country. The capacity of sunlight to heat a surface offers an endless supply of energy which, when used passively, doesn't even require much in the way of raw materials to harness it.

Much credit for spreading the word about solar cooking must go to the organization aptly named Solar Cookers International. Former Ecology Action Garden Manager Carol Cox was fascinated by their work, and taught many years' worth of EA interns how to make simple and cheap cardboard box cookers. Which is how we, in turn, learned how to share the low-tech, high efficiency tool with others.
Our first foray into the world of solar cooking actually came in the form of a wedding present from our friends Sarah and Jim. This Sun Oven is a portable, high-powered solar cooker that involves a collapsible reflector, adjustable prop, and and a few other features that even make it possible to bake bread (at left) on a clear day.
The one Carol taught us to make, while not as powerful, is still capable of cooking grains, potatoes, meat, etc., pasteurizing water, and canning fruit and tomatoes. It involves two cardboard boxes, some glue, aluminum foil, silicon caulk, and a piece of glass. Plans can be found on the SCI website in book form for a mere $7. The book includes recipes and principles of using the box cooker.
Last but not least, the product of another gift... The Jeavons' gave me a book called The Solar Food Dryer which, among other things, gives plans for building an entirely passive-solar food dehydrator (no electricity involved). Aficionados of the Golden Rule Garden blog will undoubtedly have read my post on constructing it back in 2009, but for a much clearer explanation of the process check out the Gardenerd blog post on the topic. After building a third iteration, pictured at right, I only have a couple points of advice to add to the dialogue. First, the book recommends using stove paint on the metal heat collector. While this paint is good to 1,200°F, it is faaar from environmentally friendly. Plus it's $13 a can. This time I used a few coats of black tempura paint, which is not as durable, but is much cheaper and much less toxic. Second, this time I had to actually go out and buy a piece of metal for the heat collector, and found sheets of galvanized steel for something around $22. But galvanized ductwork was more like $13 for the same area, so I got that and banged it flat. And finally, the screen that the food sits on to dry: I like cheap, but this time I bought the stuff that the book recommends instead of using free (but icky) aluminum or fiberglass screen. And you know what? The dried food comes off like a dream! Well worth the $18-$20.
Without going into great depth on cooking pointers, the basics to solar cooking are as follows: It generally takes more time to cook with the sun, and this is the only downside. The upsides are many. Since there is no danger of your food (or your house) burning if you leave solar cooking food unattended, you can put out a dish in the morning and leave it till lunch or supper. Because of the nature of solar cooking your food will not dry out, and will often be much more moist and flavorful than food cooked on a stove or in a standard oven. And the cardboard box cookers (at left) are very inexpensive to build, so by making a few of them you'd have the capacity to cook for a great many people at once, with no fuel, while you are yourself working somewhere else the whole day long! Even in our climate, with the presence of cloudy days, solar cooking is tremendously practical. It merely takes an understanding of the principles and a willingness to work with the weather.
The solar food dryer, too, is dreamy. In its very first batch, our new one simultaneously dried tomatoes, basil, and bananas (see the close-up at top). The tomatoes and basil have been gracing our sourdough bread for the past couple of months, but I must confess that the bananas didn't last a day before being consumed. I don't have as much experience as others in its use yet, but the aforementioned Gardenerd blog has advice on making Flax Chips and Kale Chips, and drying mint and leeks with the solar dryer. I can tell you, though, that even in this humid climate this simple dryer works well.
I'd encourage anyone interested to give it a shot. In the worst case you'll come out with a conversation piece. In the best case you will change your diet, cut your fuel costs drastically, and become a calmer, happier, and more charmingly eccentric person!

7245

Bracing for Reentry

2011-09-28T08:43:00.000-07:00

It has been a whirlwind of a summer, which officially ended last Friday with both Autumn Equinox and the last day of the internship we were leading for Peris and Mary. Two days later we took them to the airport, and two days after that we got word that they had arrived safely in Nairobi. Big sighs of relief all the way around.

As a result of our combined attentions we dug all that could be dug in the garden, kept weeds at bay, harvested reliably, threw a great garden tour, built a solar food dehydrator, built a solar box cooker, and froze, canned, and dried food. The rest of the workday was spent with lecture time, discussion, presentations by Peris and Mary on the topics we were covering, and working through the 10 forms Ecology Action has devised to bind diet, sustainability, and income together (quantitatively) in a small area.
Outside of garden time Peris and Mary had the opportunity to experience many potlucks, share their traditional food with the friends they made, speak to a number of groups about the situation in Kenya and the work of G-BIACK, play cornhole, visit the Great Darke County Fair, tour a few market gardens and a conventional farming operation, see an Aikido ranking, and read just about every book on the topic of agriculture available in the Dayton Public Library system (thanks to Zach and Wendy). As I mentioned in my last post, I plan to write more about some highlights in the future.
The internship took nearly all of our energy, but was extremely rewarding in that Peris and Mary both feel better prepared to work against the poverty, sickness, and food insecurity that are a constant pressure on Kenya. We, in turn, have learned effective techniques to care for certain crops, concepts in water efficiency, and countless other pieces of wisdom to help us run the garden better, to say nothing of the inspiration we were given every time one of them would say "Just wait, in ten years this place will be beautiful. It will be worth all the hard work you are doing now."
So now, as we face a short Fall of corn and sorghum harvest and grain and cover crop planting, then a long winter of planning for next year, we'll also be looking back in gratitude for the time we've had with Peris and Mary. If you have a moment, please take some time to consider the state of the world, and be grateful that there are people like Peris and Mary out there working tirelessly on a community level to make it better.

6850

What Happened to July?

2011-08-04T18:23:00.000-07:00

I've been asking myself the same question.

The answer explains a lot in terms of the absence of blog posts, given the number of 11:30 pm bedtimes, 6 am wakeups, and days scheduled completely full.
Literally, the answer is Interns.
In partnership with Ecology Action we are hosting two women from Thika, Kenya for a nearly 3-month internship in Grow Biointensive agriculture. Both are connected with Grow-Biointensive Agricultural Center of Kenya (G-BIACK), which is an incredibly productive non-governmental agency that serves as a resource for orphans, individuals with AIDS, and the elderly as well as local and regional farmers. I recommend checking out the G-BIACK website and this 12-minute video about their work. And, actually, you should send links to any friends or family who don't think anything good is happening in the world these days, because this organization's efforts are truly noteworthy.
The two women who are joining us are Peris Wanjiru and Mary Wangui. Peris (at left) and her husband, Samuel Nderitu, who have been teachers and practitioners of Grow Biointensive for thirteen years, are the founders of G-BIACK. Mary (at right) is one of the extension agents G-BIACK employs to travel locally and regionally teaching sustainable farming techniques.
Naturally we are honored to be sharing our knowledge with two such motivated and committed women, and have been gaining plenty from our side of the relationship.
You'll see a lot of them in the coming months' posts.
We learned early on that the range of temperatures they generally experience is from 60°F to 77°F. So the brutally hot and humid weather we had during July was especially difficult for them, and they get high marks for acclimating as well as they have so far. (For the record, our daily schedule has us in the garden during the morning, lunch around noon, and class in the afternoon under a tree.)
Needless to say, the garden is in excellent shape. We are right around 83% completion of the total area, with our sights set on around 4100 sq ft by the time Peris and Mary leave (the final 100 sq ft have a poison ivy infestation that is waiting for winter). The Garden Stats at right will reflect this when I get the numbers crunched.
So fear not, constant readers! We have not evaporated or succumbed to heat-stroke. We've been up to some great things, to which future posts will attest...

6175

Spring 2011 Wrap-Up

2011-06-18T05:00:00.000-07:00

I intended to publish this post last weekend, but the same storm that changed our moisture situation sent a lightening bolt from the very heavens to fry our modem, router, and desktop computer. The Time Warner guy just came out today to fix the problem. So here's the post, updated and modified...

Solstice is less than a week away, and spring feels quite over. We'd been facing temperatures just grazing 100° F the week before last, and the sogginess of the excessive rain had long since worn off by the Thursday before last. In fact, for the first time this year it was too dry to dig. That's a problem we didn't face until mid July last year. Additionally, our 330 gallons of rain catchment were almost gone from watering seedlings.

That said, we were already in a much better place than we were this time last year. In fact, in terms of area dug and planted, we were in a better place than we were by the end of last season. As of June 7th we had completed 1,852 ft², 44.1% of the total, which exceeds last year's approximately 42%. As of the 8th we passed the halfway mark, which, though it is only symbolic, is a great boost to morale around here. And by last Thursday, the 16th, we had 62.8% of the garden prepared and planted!

How is it possible that our completed area grew so rapidly? It's all because Margo was off doing good works for days at a time, Alten dutifully by her side. They were off site for about 8 whole days, and that allowed me to obsess about how much work there was to do in the garden. Most of that amounted to bed preparation, compost sifting, and miscellaneous projects like putting up fencing and a tool rack. It has, of course, been good to have them both back. Margo returned to plant flowers (our first nasturtium bloom is at right), harvest our alfalfa and clover, build compost, weed, and remind me of the order of priorities.

Weatherwise, in the past month we've had 8 days in the 90's, and a concurrent run of 13 days with no more than .25" of rain, which is only a problem because we have so many young plants out right now. That spate of dry was broken by the aforementioned storm, which dumped 1.7" on us. A bit much all at once, but far better than nothing. We are now up to a titch over 28" for the year, with more rain in our near future.

Most of the garden is doing very well. We were a bit late in planting our sorghum, amaranth, tomatoes, cucumbers and zucchini, but they look like they are catching on well. The large sections that need to go in yet are sweet potatoes, sweet corn, 300 more ft² of flour corn, and the dry beans that will be interplanted with that and the rest of the corn.

We've learned a few things already this season. We always try to keep experimenting in the garden, and often the experiments are results of compromise between what would be best for the plants versus what is possible for us. Our parsnips, for instance, which we flat and transplant. It would have required 10 or more flats for the area we planned, and we didn't have that many. We decided to plant 2 flats and broadcast the rest directly on the bed. It is clear at this point that we will get great results from the ones we flatted and transplanted, while the broadcast section has not come up well at all and is much weedier. At left are this year's flowers from last year's parsnip planting (since they're biennial), attracting beneficials.

Another lesson was compost in the flat soil. We don't currently have enough compost to either mix our ideal flat soil for all the flats or apply compost to all the beds, so we decided to use it on the beds that will produce our major biomass, like corn, millet, and sorghum. But it was becoming clear that our germination was suffering for the lack of organic matter and humus in the flat soil, so we started mixing it in for at least some of the important seeds. The result was much better germination, better drainage for the flats, and greater ease in removing seedlings when transplanting.

Along with flatting and transplanting, we have gained more insight into when seedlings have gotten too big to plant.

We learned the importance of cover-cropping, too. The one bed that was prepared last year but not cover-cropped for the winter has significant weed issues, in contrast with the cover-cropped ones, which have relatively few weeds.

The last example of lessons learned follows along with cover-crops. Our overwintered cover was a broadcast mix of wheat, rye, and Canadian field peas, the latter of which died without any significant growth. The wheat and rye, however, looked great (notice the yellowing band in the photo at top). So great, in fact, that we decided to leave many of them to grow to maturity. The learning is related to timing. The best-looking CC'd beds were planted on time. The beds we planned for winter grains, however, were planted very late. As a result the CC grains got a big boost and are healthier and fuller-looking (yield data will tell the whole story) than those planted specifically to harvest for grain.

And we came out of dandelion season with $116.46 worth of fictitious "Dandy Dollars", wherein each head plucked is worth 1¢ and each plant pulled is worth 10¢. Whew!

So we continue plugging away, proud of ourselves (and our cabbages) for the successes we're experiencing and the failures we're learning from.

5605

Barrels of Fun

2011-06-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

One of our site challenges is a lack of on-demand water. As you might note from the earlier post, there is plenty of water, but it is either falling from the sky or stuck in the ground. Or flowing across the ground, in which case we're not usually thinking of irrigating.

For all those other times, though, we need a source from which we can fill our watering can. Eventually we hope to get a well, maybe even a wind-powered pump to go with it. For now we can make use of one of our site advantages: an equipment shed with a footprint larger than the garden (upwards of 5,000 sq ft) and the roof that covers it. This means that for every inch of rain we get the roof can collect about 3100 gallons of water. Wow! Specifically, the downspouts at each corner spit out 775 gallons of water for each inch of rain. Doesn't that sound enticing? It did to us, too. So Margo and our friend, Knoll, went to a Rainwater Harvesting workshop at the Montgomery County Soil and Water Conservation District this time last year.

They came away with two blue 55 gallon drums and some PVC accouterments. I put them up in relatively short order (made slightly longer by the fact that I lack the appropriate tool for cutting aluminum downspouts efficiently - you have no idea how a hacksaw will make them screech!) and was dazzled by how little rain it took to make them full to overflowing. In order to get the most out of each rainfall I put them on different corners, propped up on boards.

Now 110 gallons is a lot of water if you have an aquarium or a houseplant, but it doesn't go far if you have a garden, so we planned expansion. Being cheap, I didn't want to have to buy a plastic 55 gallon drum when there are certainly enough of them in existence already. Online I found a website, Rain Reserve, which sells rain barrel systems, but also has a page giving tips on how to find free or cheap barrels. So I went with that, and found a wonderful source, which I hesitate to divulge. But here's a clue: soda pop bottling plants get their concentrate in 55 gallon drums, and they can't reuse them. So we got four that smelled like Mountain Dew. A few weeks later I had a conversation with our southern neighbor, telling him about my big score. "What?" he said. "If you need 55 gallon drums come over to my place. I've got plenty." It turns out he already knew my source, because he'd gotten a large number from there for his daughters' equestrian practice.

Step two was adding my new barrels. I only managed to set two more up last year, one more on each corner. Since PVC was the going style, I decided to connect each pair with more PVC. This involved a lot of envisioning, and about two hours at Home Depot staring at all the large and small pieces, trying to figure out how I would fit them together. I settled on an upside-down U-shaped concoction to connect them, consisting of two right angles, a number of pieces of pipe, and a larger number of indescribable pieces to get a tight fit between the pipes and the barrels. At the bottom of the new barrel I simply added another valve. The whole picture was functional but clunky, and I found myself wanting something a little less obtrusive and a little more simple. And long-lasting.

So in May I set up both remaining barrels on one of the previously occupied corners. If you're having trouble visualizing it, there are now four barrels on one corner and two on the other.

This time I eschewed the PVC for brass hose adapters, plastic Y-connector valves, and garden hose (whatever that's made of). The result is a little more complicated to envision and carry out initially, but will last longer and look less industrial.
There are a couple of ways to connect four barrels, and I equate them to the little I know of connecting electrical "stuff", that is, in serial or parallel circuit. Since only one barrel is receiving the downspout's torrent, I thought it would be best to give it the maximum number of paths (making this a pseudo-parallel circuit). So I drilled one hole in the upper wall of each barrel, and screwed in a brass fitting that is threaded on one side and barbed (to receive a garden hose) on the other. I cut a piece of hose long enough to go from the barrel to the point between all four, and attached those to each brass barb. I connected the hoses from each pair of barrels with a Y hose connector, then cut a piece of hose to connect the two Y's. It's kind of hard to take a photo of the setup, 'cause it's in such a tight place, but I'll try with text:

O________-----------________ O
--------------- ->------<
O---------------------------------------O

Hmmm. Sorry, I guess I missed out on those wonderful years of drawing pictures with keyboard characters. But hopefully you get the point. The O's are barrels, the lines are hoses, and the <> thingies are Y connectors.

For the output valves I only had to worry about the new barrels, because the earlier ones already had their PVC valves. I drilled one hole towards the bottom of both new barrels, put in the brass thread/barb piece, put hoses on each one, and connected them at the front of the whole mess with a Y -valve connector. So I can turn on one barrel, the other, or both.

Someone pointed out that I could have saved resources by passing on the top connection and connecting them all at the bottom. Then I could use that as the drain valve, too. The trouble with that, as I see it, is that if one barrel gets a leak it will drain them all overnight, and if it can happen, it will eventually.

What I didn't mention before were the "hose repair" pieces, which allowed me to attach cut hose to all the threaded Y connections. Very similar to the brass barbed pieces (except that they are plastic), they have a barb on one side with a two-piece clamp to hole the hose on, and a male or female connection on the other side.

All in all this project used 6 brass fittings, two Y connectors without valves, one Y connector with valves, 8 pieces cut from a veeery long damaged garden hose, six female hose repairs, and three male hose repairs. Whew! At least I'll know what I am doing for the next few barrels!

So I have a lot of experience now (the kind that makes me cringe a little bit to consider). But there are many ways to skin a cat, I'm told, and so if anyone else has a suggestion I will probably take it into account.

(When scrutinizing the photos, most of the PVC can now be ignored. Like a certain structure in Alaska, it now leads nowhere.)

4595

The Grand Inundation

2011-05-05T12:46:00.000-07:00

The news here, which isn't really news if you are in the midwest or have watched tv or heard the radio this spring, is that we have had lots of water coming down from the sky. In light of that, the good news is that we are not in a low-lying area and are not bordering the Mississippi. So while we do have a large creek that runs through the property year-round, the foresightful ones who situated this house 160 or so years ago had the good sense to leave a healthy distance, both vertically and horizontally, between any of the structures and the creek. In contrast, over at the garden the water table has been within a foot of the soil surface for the past month or more. That's despite its placement at the top of a hill, which says a lot about how long it will take the conventional farmer to get his equipment in the field at the bottom of the hill a few hundred feet away.

We like data here, and everyone likes sensational data, so here are the details: we received 10.05" of rain in April. Not impressed? Keep in mind that we recorded 20" for all of last year, from April 15 (when we put up the rain gauge) to December 31. Still not impressed? How about the fact that from January 1st through May 3rd we have received 22.45"?

It's true, we missed out on recording rainfall from Jan 1 to April 14 last year, but one of our nearby market-farming neighbors can vouch for our missing time: He keeps a rain gauge that tracks rainfall through the whole year. It's a straightforward design, a clear 1½" diameter tube stuck vertically to a white board. He puts marks on the board to indicate where the rainfall was at the end of each month, then empties it at the end of the year (leaving the marks to compare to the following year). He showed us the evidence when we went over a couple of days ago, and pointed out that by the end of April his place had received as much rain as it had by the end of November 2010. He's never seen anything like that, and he's been paying attention for decades now.

But this spring is similar to the last in that we've gotten a LOT of rain over a short period of time, leaving us to wonder if the sky might dry up for the second half of the year, like it did in 2010. We're hoping not, but we're also doubling our rainwater catchment just in case.

The last time I got in the soil to dig was over a month ago, so we are in a tricky place for our planting schedule. The alfalfa, parsley, parsnips, onions and leeks would like to go in now, and we're staring at the corn planting date and wishing it a little further off. But the soil will probably be an absolute bog for at least a week after it stops raining, and the end is not in the ten-day forecast.

This causes us to question our assumed timing. For instance, should we double-dig before our main-season crops go in (between March and June), or should we perhaps dig before the winter cover crops go in (September to November)? Of course, if this year goes as last year, digging would be as difficult in the dry, dry fall as it would be in the wet, wet spring.

Oh, yeah - the other good news is that it was a fabulous year for digging dandelions and finding morel mushrooms.

I'll take one last moment to describe the photos here. At top right is a trench I started for a new bed, interrupted by weather. It's important to note that the trench didn't simply catch rainwater. If you dig a hole anywhere around the garden these days it will fill up with water whether it is raining or not. Next photo down, on the left, is a lakeside dandelion patch, which in dryer times is actually a path. Third, the 2010 parsnips that we replanted for 2011 seed. On close inspection you can make out water running from the further side of the bed to the closer. The fourth photo is of the biggest morel I have ever seen, found by friends while pulling honeysuckle in our yard.

And, last but not least, Alten has been preparing to deal with any water issues in the house. Routine inspection, he assures us...

4285

Beautiful, but Deadly

2011-04-14T13:34:00.000-07:00

Ok, maybe just dead-smelling. The first tree-blossoms we see at the garden are from the ornamental pear on the north side, pictured here. And this morning was the first time this spring that I caught a whiff of its flowers, which reek like week-old carrion. My first thought was that something must have crawled up to our garden fence and died. Then I remembered the duplicitous nature of this tree, which smells terrible for about two weeks, but provides wonderful shade for at least eight months...

My third thought was that I should write it down on my calendar. Now before you start wondering what kind of calendar this might be, I'll tell you that I keep it for objective reasons.

It wasn't too long after we started our first internship with Steve Moore out in Pennsylvania that I realized the natural world has a lot to say to a seasoned farmer. Signs after the manner of Punxutawny Phil, but much more accurate. One crop would go in the ground when the daffodils bloomed, some things would get started when the walnuts leafed out, and a number of roots would get left in the ground til after the first frost. Whether these were statements about warming soil temperatures, some critical amount of light in a day, or the edibility of certain crops, farmers who knew would swear (and plant and harvest) by them.

And so, when we knew we'd be in Willits for a few years, I started keeping track of different annual mile-markers, like the buckeye trees blossoming and buckeyes dropping, the first rainfall after summer, the first salamander spotted, and so on. Of course, we'd need to have been there much longer than we were to have made any sense of these events.
Now, however, we plan to be in one place for a good long while. I already have recorded the lilacs leafing out (4/3, at left), the first morel spotted (4/11, courtesy of our 80° Sunday last weekend), first tree swallows in the garden (4/13), and first dandelion flowers out (4/10). The next step will be to try and remember what I noted the year before...

Anyone who has been to a class I've taught will tell you my biggest piece of advice for any gardener or farmer: observation is vital. Pay attention to what you're doing and what you see happening; it's the only way to learn, and the only way to salvage a failure. Otherwise, you have no idea why a crop succeeds or fails to thrive, and it is impossible to recreate excellent outcomes reliably.
In this case, as I noted, it will take a long time and a lot of experiments before we can put our fingers on what the natural world is telling us about the coming season. But we don't have anything better to do anyway...

3995

The Multi-Purpose Mill

2011-04-06T08:12:00.000-07:00

It has been a little under three months since we unpacked the GrainMaker mill, and it has not has not ceased to please, or even to dazzle us with its many talents.

Yesterday was a particularly fine one for the GM's facets to shed their ever-multiplying vermilion beams upon my admiring and upturned visage... Ok, I'm overdoing it a little, but read on and see that there is reason to seem so pleased.

The first of two experiences I had was with our 2010 flax crop (flowering flax pictured at right, dried flax plants below left). In its processing I got as far as combing the seed bolls from the top of the plant and bundling the stems together for later fiber-separating. But for the past six months we've had a big rubbermaid bin of the loose bolls rolling around, waiting for me to figure out how best to crush them into seed and chaff. Yesterday I got out one of our sieves, put a handful of bolls in it, and ground them with my thumb, which worked great. For a small amount. But it would have taken me an hour or more just to crush them all, and then I would still have to clean the chaff away.

This is where the GrainMaker came in. I thought perhaps if I loosened the burrs to the point where there was a significant distance between them (enough that the seed itself wouldn't be crushed) I could do the work much faster. I put in the auger that cracks bigger seeds, threw a big handful of the bolls in, and cranked. It worked great! With a little adjustment, and 5 minutes of time, I then translated the whole ~6 cups worth of bolls, extra plant pieces and all, into seed and chaff.

With a little more work to winnow and separate I'll be finished with them! Just in time to flat this year's crop, which was really the incentive to finally get that task done.

The second experience was in grinding peanut butter. I had done this with other mills, and had indeed done it once or twice with the GM, always resulting in an ultra creamy variety. I've never really liked creamy peanut butter, and the only thing that made it acceptable is that I had ground it myself. The long and short of it is that yesterday, inspired by how well the flax bolls did with the burrs separated by as much as an eighth of an inch, I ran the peanuts through. I was rewarded with a fabulous chunky PB, and just in time to spread it on the waffles we were making.

Now I admit that, while hulling flax may be a rare occurrence in the world of grain grinders, making peanut butter is certainly not. It's just that I had never done it to my satisfaction before, and now I do feel quite satisfied, I assure you.

So there you have it, yet a little more shameless praise for the GrainMaker.

3855

Spring Equinox 2011

2011-03-29T07:56:00.000-07:00

Whew! This post marks a little over one year since we moved here, started up the garden, and began this blog.

What do we have to show for ourselves? Well, naturally a few gray hairs. I won't be writing a retrospective of the past year; the blog speaks for itself on that count. I will, however, wrap up the winter and declare our course for the season to come.

First of all, while pictures and an account of Alten have been sadly lacking, he has not been idle. In the past month, really, he has taken up crawling, climbing on things, showing comprehension of some of the sign language we've been using with him and, ta-dah! He has produced two teeth! The latter was especially exciting to us since he seemed to be working on them from around month four. He's been sleeping a little better, took a 2-hour-long uninterrupted nap the other day, and is eating rice like there's no tomorrow. As to the crawling, he says it's only truly useful for getting to things upon which one might pull one's self up.

Equinox was spent visiting my brother, Chris, who had a mishap on his bike a couple of weeks ago (those of you who know him have probably already seen the x-rays on his facebook page). He's up in the hills of West Virginia at the Mountain Institute, which is beautiful and more than an hour from the nearest emergency room. We had intended to walk all over tarnation with him, but he was in some pain, so we hung out and stayed warm instead. The pictures on the site above are bewitching, but they still don't do full justice to the peace and magnificence of the area.

Following directly on the heels of that trip I got in the garden to dig, and prepared 150 ft² for the Kamut wheat we had flatted already and the collection of other spring wheats that we had some seed for. Related to this, I've updated the Garden Stats in the sidebar with this year's figures. The current figure of 449 ft² includes fall-planted wheat, rye, and garlic, and the perennials we started last year, namely alfalfa and clover. I'll finish planting the Kamut today and update the number. It doesn't include all the cover crops that we started last year to keep the soil happy over winter - those will get ripped out in the next month or so.

Last year we finished out at a little over 42% of the total area getting dug and planted. We are already a month ahead of last year, so I am optimistic we'll get it all in, and in good time.
So far we have flatted parsley, celery, wheat, parsnips, leeks, onions, kale, cabbage, lettuce, and probably something else I'm forgetting.

Other projects we have to complete before the season gets into full swing are flat-building, fence-finishing, compost-bin-constructing, and erecting some kind of temporary housing on the site. Each will probably get its own post except for flats, which already got covered in a previous post. I will say, however, that most of our pallet-flats survived well enough to head into a second season. We'll just need twice as many to meet our ambitions this year. Our sister-in-law Rachel came over from PA the week before last to lend a hand tearing up pallets and translating them into flats, so we're full of appreciating for that...

In early March we kicked-off our year's teaching schedule by heading out to California to present at Ecology Action's Three-Day Worshop. We taught classes on sustainable diet design, bed preparation, seed starting, compost, compost crops, garden planning through the Master Charts in How to Grow More Vegetables, and a few others, and John Jeavons taught the rest (for pictures of the one in November see this post). Just last Saturday we taught a class locally on starting seedlings. Aullwood Audubon Center and Farm's Center for Lifelong Learning has a very active education program for children and adults, and we are on the list this Spring teaching the seedling class and a day-long class on soils and compost (which will be April 9, if you're in the area). The seed-starting class went very well - it is always a treat to teach, and I always come out learning more through the experiences participants share. Among other prospects this year we'll be back at Aullwood to teach Fall classes on grains and seed saving.

In miscellaneous other news, the county decided that the bridge on our road (and bordering our property) is not in great shape, and needs to be replaced. See photo at right, where the blotches down the center lane show the surface damage to be reminiscent of tooth decay. Too bad Google Earth couldn't get a side shot - rebar was actually falling out of the concrete underneath. Of course, we'd prefer they just tear it down and dead-end the road, but they weren't interested in our opinion. The upshot, since they weren't going to listen to us anyway, is that they had to cut a bunch of trees down to make way. These were cut into 18" lengths and filled Mom's large pickup truck six times. Thus we have heat for next winter. The workers also ground up the tops and gave us two dump truck loads of wood chips. Sadly, Alten is too young to fully appreciate the dump trucks, excavators, bulldozers and such.

So here we go! It's officially Spring, the days are getting longer, we're getting marginally more sleep, and the garden calls...

3735

Everything Old is New Again

2011-03-12T08:51:00.000-08:00

I'm a big fan of taking that which has been used and making it useful once more. Especially when it can be turned into something I reeeeeally want. Pallets have done a lot for us in the past year but, though they are versatile, they couldn't help me on this project.

What was on the docket in this instance?

We were spoiled in many ways being on established farms, and one of the greatest elements they each offered was season extension. Particularly in the area of seed-starting. We'd been wishing all last year for somewhere to put our starts that would be out of the excessive cold, heat, rain, snow, and such, but didn't have enough acceptable indoor window space.While I would like to have a greenhouse (ideally one big enough to house a full-grown avocado tree) we didn't have the supplies on hand for that. In fact, at the onset of winter, which is project time, all we had was the hoard of windows that were removed from Mom's house when she put in energy-star windows. And the old ones were the original single-pane variety, most with original glass, I imagine. And, greedy me, I wanted something that wouldn't let all the hard-earned warmth seep out.

This is where our contractor friends came in. They build, they renovate, they remodel, and they replace old windows with new ones. A lot of times, they told me, the old windows aren't all that bad. Over the course of a month, then, I got: one 6'-wide sliding glass door, very nice; a 6'-wide hinged glass door, somewhat nice; four double-glazed windows, two without their frames; and a transom window, which I didn't use. Margo's dad has done the same project at their house, so I got four more windows from him. All free, and diverted from a landfill. Margo's dad would probably have found a good use for them, but our other two friends assure us that that's where most casualties of remodeling go.

For a greenhouse I would need three or for times as much glazed surface as this, plus the thought put into corners, a roof, and an independent structure to support the whole thing safely. In the meantime, though, I had already found what I thought would be the ideal temporary situation: Mom has a shed at the end of the drive, and that shed has a south-facing garage door. I figured I could just frame the opening of that and put the doors and windows in, which I proceeded to do.

Other, more experienced individuals might have jumped right in and gotten the whole thing done in a day or two. I, however, have no particular experience with this kind of thing, and took it slow. I also have an 8-month-old, so that made things a little slower yet. But with advice from Margo's dad, and a little physical help from my friends, I got the whole thing assembled. The results are very pleasing: on average the temperature inside the shed is 12°F warmer than outside, with the added benefit of sunlight and shelter from the wind, rain, snow and ice that have since bombarded it. The kale, cabbage, alfalfa and clover are up, and the leeks and onions are starting to pop out. Hurrah!

There were a number of steps after the windows and doors were procured. After measuring the size of the opening and the dimensions of the windows I made little paper cutouts of them all, then played Tetris with them. This part would have been extra work, except that a few of the pieces weighed 100 lb or more in real life. Easier to move around paper cutouts. Once I found a setup that worked, I marked the area out on the shed floor, put the windows and doors down, and measured to see if it really worked out. It did, mostly.

What I didn't have yet was the lumber to frame it, but I had a contact for that, too. Our family doctor, who lives a few minutes down the road, had a new office built a while ago. She said the construction crew had this big dumpster, and she was amazed at the things they threw in there. So she would often check it and take out any wood she thought might be useful. She invited us to take anything we might need. Between that and some scrap barn wood, I had all the 2x4's I could use. So I measured once, twice, sometimes thrice, and cut. Again, it worked out mostly, and any mistakes were readily corrected with a chisel.

It was 9' high, 16' wide (but not soft as a downy chick) and just a little too unwieldy for me to manage alone, so I called up a couple of friends to help me move it into place. Zach, Seth, Mom and I got it moved where it should be, "finessed" it into place with a mallet, and finally screwed it to the opening.

Over the course of the next week or two I seated each of the windows and fixed them with beveled trim (thank you, table saw) to hold them in place. I have some silicon to seal the cracks, but I'm not sure if that will really make a difference.

As I said, the whole process has had a good result. Better would be if the shed were insulated - it has plywood exterior with vinyl siding, no ceiling, and vents in the "attic" space. But it works good enough for starting plants, has opening windows on all sides to keep moisture from rotting things, and is sturdy. So I'm not complaining.

This project, from supplies to advice to labor, could not have been done without the community of friends and family that I can claim. Or, rather, it could have been done for a moderate expense. But all I bought were screws and nails, and that was it. And, while Zach and Seth were over helping, their families, plus Margo and Alten, were in the warmth of the house enjoying cheese, crackers, and play-doh. It was like a very small barn-raising :)

For anyone else out there interested in building with windows and doors, my main advice is to find a company or individual who does renovations. I understand they are happy to have a positive use for the windows they remove; they feel good about not throwing away perfectly good windows, but are also saved the expense of hauling and depositing them at the dump.

As a side note to any of you serious writers and editors out there, you may have detected my relatively frequent use of the consummate (though nebulous) semicolon in this post. In the same way that I hope to have built a pseudo-greenhouse that won't fall apart, I hope I applied the semicolon appropriately. But then, if you don't try, you'll never learn!

3405

Measuring Up

2011-02-17T17:00:00.000-08:00

There were three tools that we needed to complete our data from the past season, and all three were scales.

We already owned one, the triple-beam balance pictured in the potato post of a few months ago. It serves many purposes, not the least of which is the fact that it is in metric.

Now the subject of which system of measurement is best can certainly be argued, but there's no denying which one is easier.
As an extreme example, imagine that you have an intern from a country that uses the metric system (which is actually every country except Myanmar/Burma, Liberia, and the United States). Now picture explaining to them how to calculate how much alfalfa they need to spread on 60 ft², when we're applying it at the rate of 2 lb 7 oz per 100 ft².

Ok, how many ounces are there in a pound? No, that's how many ounces are in a gallon - we're talking about pounds. Right, 16. So start by multiplying out our rate to get it all in ounces. 2 x 16 is 32, plus 7 makes 39 ounces. That's for 100 ft², and we want it for 60 ft², which is .6 of 100 ft², so multiply the 39 ounces by .6. Yes! Very good, that's 23.4 ounces. No, we're not done, now we have to convert it back to ounces and pounds. So divide 23 by 16, then you know how many pounds, then multiply the decimal by 16 to figure out how many ounces. Or subtract 16 from 23.4, and that's one pound, and the remaining numbers are ounces. Which makes 1 lb 7.4 ounces.

Now explain it 5 more times if the intern is mathematically inclined, or 100 more times if they're not. Or just use the metric system, which would be more like this:

Ok, we need to apply alfalfa to 60 ft² at the rate of 1.1 kg per 100 ft². Since 60 is .6 of 100, we'll multiply 1.1 kg by .6. Yes, that would be .66 kg, or 660 g. Which I don't have to explain to you, because you are familiar with the metric system.

Doesn't that sound easy? Less steps, less to screw up. It's nice and simple. And that's why we're going to weigh with metric in our garden.

Ok, admittedly we will continue using ft² instead of m² for area, Fahrenheit instead of Celsius for temperature, and 5 gallon buckets instead of liters or m³ for volume, but you see how it's all convenient, right? People know what you're talking about, or at least you know what you're talking about.

Incidentally, our other two scales are in English units, but it will be a matter of quick conversion to fix that. I may even write the metric units on the face of our mid-range scale...

So as I was saying up at the top, all this is to announce that we now have our full complement of scales to weigh everything that goes in or comes out of the garden. With a couple of purchases last month we added to our previous 600 g /21 oz triple-beam-balance capacity, and now have a 25 lb/ 11 kg medium scale and a 600 lb / 270 kg BIG scale.

Since I think I've beaten the metric topic to death by now I'll say a little about our mid-range scale. Mostly good for all the stuff that isn't itty-bitty, like seeds, and isn't huge, like corn stalks, compost, and luggage. The mid-range scale, then, is actually very helpful in day-to-day harvesting, and we were really missing it last season, especially (as noted in the aforementioned potato post) when weighing potatoes out 1 lb 5 oz at a time. This one is bland, but high enough quality to be reliable. As you can see, the brand is Pelouze, which seems to be owned by Rubbermaid, for what that's worth. It was about $60 with shipping and all.

And for the grand finale, our new (very old) Fairbanks scale. At the Golden Rule garden I got hooked on huge platform scales that weigh a ton, both figuratively (because they're mostly cast-iron) and literally (since some of them have a 2000 lb capacity). Neat, huh? Apparently they are frequently found at farm auctions, where you can buy them for $5 and up. I wasn't in the know on that point till the past few weeks, and the $60 one posted on Craigslist was pretty enticing. Especially because all the other ones on Craigslist were $100-300. The greatest things about this kind of scale are that 1) they are virtually indestructible, 2) they have a large surface (~18"x 24") upon which to pile that which you wish to weigh, and 3) they can weigh incredibly heavy loads very accurately. You really can't beat that combo.

The scale is based on the design of Thadeus Fairbanks, who patented it waaaay back in 1830. They have a great history written up on the company's website. Ours dates back to the early 1900's. I'm sure it has seen a long, dull life, and we can't promise it much excitement, but we'll at least keep it indoors where it won't rust more than it already has.

My photos don't do it justice, but they give a good impression of the beast. At left is the full body shot, featuring cast-iron frame and wheels, wooden pillar and, gallows? I don't know what you'd call that thing. Below is a photo of the "user interface", which is brass. It goes up to 50 lb, then you can add extra weights (those disks off left) to the dangling fixture (on the right) to increase to capacity. We talked a little about going digital, but figured it was much better to steer clear of the electronics. They may be faster and easier not to botch up, but they also have shorter lives (I doubt any of the digital stuff I'm using now will still function in 20 years, let alone 100). So we've got it made! At least until we need to weight something under .05 grams or over 600 pounds...

3125

OOOOOOOOOOOOUCH!

2011-02-09T15:44:00.000-08:00

That's the sound of the Dan working on the Kidney Stone.

Since not everyone comes from a medical family I will spare you the most vivid and fascinating details, which are available by request.

Skipping to the exciting part, at about 6 o'clock Tuesday morning I began having pain in my back below my ribcage. It rapidly got to the point where I asked Margo to call 911. That alone is saying something, because I have a healthy (and sensible) fear of being in the business end of a hospital. The great crew of Trotwood Rescue arrived, packed me up, and hauled me into Good Samaritan, our closest hospital.

I was then promptly loaded up with IV fluids and pain meds, which allowed me to take a good, deep breath and be grateful. Mom was waiting for me when I got there, and she was able to hang out with me the whole time. I got a visit from our pastor, Paula, who was at the hospital to visit someone much sicker than me and just happened to hear that I was in, too.

By about 1 o'clock I was checked out and on my way home, where I proceeded to sleep a lot.

That is the general idea.

Folks say that passing a kidney stone is one of the most painful experiences that one can have, on the order of childbirth. I guess I'm glad I can say I have lived through it, then, and have all the more respect for Margo having gone through childbirth without any pain medication.

I am grateful for everyone who made it an easier time for me, from Margo and Alten to Mom, the paramedics, nurses, techs, Paula, and the doctor who oversaw my case.

I feel like I am in a club, now. And now that I've done it, I'd like to cross "kidney stone" off my list and not have another one.

2990

Ice Storm!

2011-02-02T07:18:00.000-08:00

When talk began Sunday about the possibility of an ice storm coming through this week, Margo and I got pretty excited. The odd mixture of below-freezing surface temperatures and slightly above-freezing precipitation, which coats everything exposed in an icy glaze, never seemed to happen in Willits while we were there. While they cause multitudes of wrecks, power outages, interruptions in commerce and the like, both Margo and I have always enjoyed them, and despite their destructive potential, no one who has taken a walk through the fields or woods after (or during) an ice storm can argue that they aren't beautiful events.

It started Monday night, and as I was heading home from Aikido on I-70 the windshield actually froze entirely over. That got me into the slow lane. Tuesday morning brought school closings and gratitude that none of us had anywhere to go for the day. On the half-mile walk to the garden to check our temperatures I found that the branches of honeysuckle, one of our many invasive shrubs, can be broken right off at the swing of a stick!

They were predicting up to a half-inch of ice accumulation, which seems incredible when you realize that every available surface will get coated, including roads, doors, steps, weeds, grass, littered trash, mops left out to dry, fences, power lines, and the dead limbs that have been waiting over those power lines for just such an occurrence... Which might explain the amazing green glow we each saw out different windows when the electricity was trying to decide whether to stay on or go back out last night. We only lost power for about an hour, which was long enough to be grateful for lots of candles, our new woodstove, and the foresight to have put a bunch of water aside for drinking water and toilet flushing.

As I walked around yesterday afternoon to take photos there was nearly a quarter-inch already.Today it has gotten worse from the additional fall of rain overnight, and now many businesses have decided that the school districts knew what they were talking about.

Here are some of the pictures I took... At top are weeds completely coated in ice, including their seedheads (which has something to do with how popular our bird feeders are right now). Next, one such bird feeder with a nuthatch on it. It has been entertaining watching the bigger birds, like grackles, sliding off the sides. Third, the chicken-wire roof of our hen-house run, sagging appreciably. Below are our clothesline, out of commission, and branches of a sugar maple with next season's buds encased.The weather forecast shows temperatures staying below freezing till at least Saturday, so I guess this will all stick around for a while...

2835

The Daily Grind

2011-01-27T05:39:00.000-08:00

Ever since our first internship on the farm of the Sonnewald Natural Foods we have been familiar with the wonderful taste and nutritional qualities of freshly ground flour. We were quite pleased, then, on arriving up at Ecology Action in early '06 to find a flour mill in the food prep space. I slowly worked up to supplying all of our flour needs with it, and we started buying so much wheat that it only made sense to get it in 25 and 50 lb bags.

That was a Country Living Grain Mill (CLGM), and I recommended it to anyone who asked. It is important to note here that we were off the grid at EA, and this was a hand-powered mill. I was certainly just a little proud of that fact. When we moved down to the Golden Rule Garden we were blessed to have access to a Miracle Mill, which had stone burrs instead of steel, and an electric motor which was masked in a nice wooden cabinet. We had great flour with the convenience of pouring in grain and letting it do its thing. The downsides? I couldn't brag any more, the thing was LOUD, and it ground fast enough to heat up the flour considerably (which takes away from the flour's nutritional value). But I always told people that I would go back to a manual mill when I got my own. It keeps me one step closer to my food.

When we moved back here the decision to buy a mill was postponed, because Mom already had one. For anyone who gets Lehman's Catalog, she has the "Our Best Grain Mill". It is difficult for me to give it any kind of negative review, simply because it served us for over 10 years. At the same time, though, it is not designed to produce the quantity (or quality) of flour that other mills can. The burrs are a little smaller, its axle doesn't use bearings, and for many other reasons I can't list (for lack of engineering knowledge) it is harder to use. After using it very intensively this year, grinding 10 cups of wheat berries (~15 cups of flour) a week for bread, I managed to break the set of stone burrs and wear away a 1/2" of the brass spacer between two washers on the axle. So we decided it was time to upgrade.

I had always counted on acquiring a CLGM of our own, since I had such good experiences with it. They are of excellent quality, and the many reviews on the web attest to their popularity. There was no reason to pursue any other, knowing what I wanted.

Then I got an email through the EA vine from Cindy Conner, a Biointensive farmer and instructor, about the new grain mill she had recently gotten. No stranger to the grain grinding (or growing) scene, she had owned a CLGM for over 10 years. Recently, though, she had the chance to see a demonstration of the GrainMaker mill, made by a family in Montana. Her glowing report of it and pronouncement that it has now replaced the CLGM on her counter inspired me to ask a lot of questions and do some more looking around.

GrainMaker has a thorough website that explains the features and history of the mill, so I'll spare you those details (and myself the charges of plagiarism). Suffice it to say that, between the testimonials, my friend's comments, the lifetime warranty, and the obvious pride the company takes in the quality of their product, I was sold. So we took the leap and ordered one.

As soon as we received it I knew the company had style: the only packaging material inside the box was a 5 lb bag of hard white spring wheat. (At left, Alten admires the mill and wonders when I'm going to bolt on the handle.)

I took our Lehman's Best off the counter and replaced it with our new GrainMaker, and we were off and grinding. To say that I am happy with it is an understatement, and I don't even know where to start lauding its excellence. It is as smooth as any good grinder should be, exudes longevity, and shines from the corner of the counter (so much so that Alten is attracted to it from across the kitchen, and will not suffer himself to be far from it). Best of all, though, is that it will grind truly fine flour on its first grind, with the effort that I am used to expending on other mills - but with the other mills I had to use that effort twice, because I needed to put the wheat through two times to get it fine enough. In fact, the GM got flour finer than I have ever ground before, short of putting it through three times on the CLGM we had used. And with only one grind! You can tell I'm in love.

I look forward to working through corn, rice, quinoa, and the grains that are small enough to have stymied the other mills we've used: amaranth and teff.

Now for a few details on our installation. The photo at the top shows our grain processing facility, complete with the Lehman's Best mill and our oat roller (which I wrote about on the Golden Rule Garden blog). At right is the GrainMaker in place. The overhang on our countertop isn't sufficient to clamp either appliance to, and Mom preferred that I not drill holes in said countertop, so I got creative with boards and c-clamps. Close inspection of the image will show that I used a lap joint to make better use of the limited number of clamps. No applause, please. Somehow I think it's funny that Mom is fine with c-clamps more or less a permanent part of the kitchen, but isn't ok drilling very permanent (but oh-so-subtle) holes in the counter.

An unintended plus is that two of the clamps are bright red - just like the GrainMaker! Notice, too, that I used some cardboard under the clamps so as not to mar the finish of the new mill. Maybe at a later date I'll get some red cardboard, too.

The final affirmation of the mill's goodness was the bread I baked and shared with everyone this morning. Delicious, as usual, but much less dense thanks to the finer flour.
Yay!

2760

Garden Report 2010

2011-01-13T06:23:00.000-08:00

This piece was originally written for and printed in Ecology Action's February 2011 newsletter.

This being our introductory Annual Garden Report, we have general details to share which will give an impression of Circle of the Sun’s situation. And before we do that, we must announce that the biggest event this year was unrelated to gardening: we welcomed our first child, Alten Lee, into the world at then end of June! Needless to say, he is a joyously complete distraction.

Our garden space has been cultivated in various ways for close to 40 years. The previous owner was a commercial farmer but kept this plot as his garden. We imagine he gardened it with chemicals, but he is no longer around to ask. Last year a church group used it for a good season of sweet corn, green beans, tomatoes and squash. The only thing of which we are certain is that it was rototilled with regularity.

The soil is mainly clay, with small pockets of sandiness here and there. While we have not yet taken a soil test, there seems to be little evidence that previous gardeners added organic matter. As a result, together with its clay composition and rototilled treatment, the top 10 inches are compact and very hard to work. This kind of thing happens with the use of a rototiller, where the clay soil is broken down into particles which feel loose initially but settle into a brick with time and rainfall.

Our best hope for creating a permanently loose and workable soil is non-mechanical cultivation and years of compost application. With an eye toward the long-term, then, we are forging ahead patiently. As this report continues, keep this discussion of our soil in mind, since it plays a role in so much of this year’s progress.

Because we moved here in March our entire season started late. While we should have started immediately by flatting a host of crops, we had no flats. Once flats were built and things were flatted we could focus on bed preparation and then planting, but the result of our late start meant that most of our crops went in the ground at least a month later than would have been ideal.

One of the steps we took was preparing for data collection. We installed our rain gauge and min/max thermometer halfway through April, so we have data for a little less than 3/4 of the year. For the purposes of projecting averages this is useless, but the information is more than sufficient for discussing this season.

First to the precipitation, which was (besides Alten) the most dramatic element of our year. Between April 16 and June 30 we recorded 12” of rain, 6.3” of which fell in June. The following six months, July to December, we recorded a total of 10”. The longest stretch we went without any rain was August 6 to September 12. But perhaps a better indication of how things went when all those crops were trying set seed and mature is that from the 13th of July to the 26th of October (8 days past our first hard frost) we recorded only 1.9 inches. The farmers we talked to in the area, commercial and market, all said this was well the driest year they can remember. And that we picked a heck of a year to start.

Secondly comes temperature, whose drama was more of the erratic nature. Between our last light frost (May 10, 32°F) and our first frost (October 16, 28°F) came weeks that alternated between highs in the mid-70’s and upper-90’s, playing havoc with both heat-loving and cool-loving crops. At Ecology Action the commodity is nights-over-60°, since below that temperature plants don’t grow as quickly. This year we recorded 87 nights where the temperature stayed above that mark, and in fact 13 nights were over 70°, which lends some validation to the observation that tomato plants seem to grow a foot overnight in the midwest. Our highest recorded temperature this year was 100°F, and our lowest was -8°F.

Our entire garden is 4200 square feet, or 42 beds. We marked our growing area out at the beginning of the season in 4’ wide, 75’ long beds of 300 square feet each, and had a garden plan drawn up to fill it. We planned to double-dig all of the area to plant, a task that fell to Dan since Margo was in the last months of pregnancy. A soil with excellent structure will drain excess moisture well, and hold moisture weeks after a rain. Ours, being unimproved clay, needed to dry out a few days after a rain but became too solid to dig if more than six days passed. So early on we were left with small windows between rains, and then later the .1” we would get at a time was not enough to sufficiently moisten the soil to dig. By the end of the season Dan had dug and we had planted 1,792 square feet, 43% of our total growing area, which is remarkable given the difficult conditions we faced.

On the score of crops, there were three categories: those that died before maturity, those that produced something, and those which could be said to have flourished in any meaning of the word. Out of the 31 distinct crops we planted, 21 achieved maturity and produced a measurable quantity. Looking from another perspective, 61% of the area planted (1,092 sq ft) produced.

The 10 crop failures, which accounted for 700 sq ft, were amaranth, carrots, chia, corn, leeks, parsnips, quinoa, squash, triticale, and wheat.

Twenty crops fell solidly in the middle category, and were remarkable mainly in that they reproduced despite the harsh conditions imposed on them: for lack of any irrigation system only the newly planted crops got watered from a can, and the rest had to make do with practically nothing. The most disappointing yields were probably our potatoes. In the most abysmal section, 65 sq ft of Kennebec, we dug 3.97 lb, equivalent to 6.13 lb/100 sq ft. This was the result of planting 30 lb of seed potatoes!

Among those 20 crops there were a few which gave us mediocre but delicious produce. Snow Peas, for instance, gave us .8 lb from the 8.5 sq ft section (9.4 lb/100) of sweetness, and our Red Russian Kale yielded 2.7 lb in its 18 sq ft section (15 lb/100). The total of our two 50 sq ft sections of Black Turtle dry beans was 3.7 lb, which is close to the GROW BIOINTENSIVE beginner yield of 4lb/100, and satisfying when we cook them up. Even our two lettuce sections of Sunset and Red Winter, though they gave us a total of 8 edible heads, will live on next season through the seeds we saved from the last plants to bolt.

We are, then, left with one crop that gave us good numbers. Our Dale Sorghum, grown with original John Coffer strain seed acquired from Ecology Action, exceeded our hopes and expectations. The seed yield of 7.43 lb/100 was fine, coming close to the GB beginner yield of 8 lb/100, but our dry-biomass yield of 52.56 lb/100, which exceeds GB intermediate yields, pleased us beyond words . We know of sorghum as a traditionally drought-resistant crop, but the fact that it thrived in the kind of season that choked the life out of most of our other crops gives us reason to hope for our soil and our future sorghum yields.

Speaking of our soil once more, we succeeded in building two compost piles this year, one of which was sifted to give us the most beautiful compost we have ever laid eyes on. As we mentioned in the November newsletter article, next year we will put a priority on building compost whether or not the materials are grown in our own garden.

Our biggest projects for the coming year are construction of a small greenhouse, completion of a fence that will keep out pests large and small, and an aim to bring the entire 4,200 sq ft of growing area into successful cultivation. Happy Growing in 2011!

The Newest and Hottest

2010-12-29T13:33:00.000-08:00

Winter often brings with it a desire to be somewhere warm, dry, and cozy. We live in a farm house that was built sometime in the second half of the 1800's and, though its 18" thick brick walls make it far from drafty, one needs a good way to heat it.

The house was built with one big chimney through which passed the exhaust from three fireplaces, one in the basement, one on the first floor, and one on the second floor - all directly in line vertically. When Mom bought the house the second floor fireplace had been removed, leaving the lower two. And we were soon surprised by the reality that when we lit a fire in the living room the basement would get smoky. Upon professional inspection it was found that the flues had been designed to join into each other. The chimney sweep had never seen anything like it before, and subsequent professionals we've had out think we're pulling their legs when we tell them about it.

But that problem has long since been fixed, and a few years back we had a liner put up the chimney and a fireplace insert installed in the living room fireplace, which is the one that gets regular use. Those familiar with wood heat, thermodynamics, and/or general trivia know that fireplaces are pretty, but absolutely impossible to heat a house with. Almost all of the heat generated goes straight up and out the chimney via hot air, creating low pressure in the house, which in turn pulls air (that would be cold air) from the outdoors through any crack available. The result is a beautiful visual feature warming those directly beside it, paired with a constant draft in other parts of the house

A fireplace insert is a like a woodstove that only has a nice-looking front, since the rest is nestled into the fireplace cavity. The advantage over a free-standing woodstove is that it takes up less space. Both are designed as chambers that burn wood more efficiently (and distribute heat much more efficiently) than a fireplace. We got one called the Clydesdale, made by Hearthstone.

In terms of wood-burning efficiency it worked fine, but in the heating department it came up way short. Inserts depend on a fan (see the electric cord off to the right of the stove) which blows air through channels that go behind, around, and back out the front of the exterior of the stove - that's how the heat radiated by the insert gets moved from the fireplace cavity to the room you're trying to heat. The problem with the Clydesdale was that the fan didn't work very well, and was very noisy. Then the thermostat element in it broke, then the function that lets you moderate the fan's speed broke.

This year we decided that the insert just wasn't doing it for us. For all the heat it produced it could not heat the house, and for it to even work as well as possible it needed this fan on that often made listening to conversation or music difficult. We wanted something that could radiate its heat without use of any fan, and that meant a free-standing wood stove. An added bonus was a surface we could conceivably cook on, heat water on, warm socks on, etc.

We consulted a great fireplace shop in the Richmond area, actually The Fireplace Shop, and settled on a soapstone stove (for soapstone's many wonderful characteristics). While waiting for delivery, we thought maybe we'd prepare the way by getting the Clydesdale ready to depart. Inserts, it turns out, are stuck in the cavity and surrounded by insulation, then a collar is put over what remains of the gap between the fireplace front and the insert. That's so you can't see the ugly back. Once we took the collar off and the insulation out, we found that the heat truly poured forth. It was pretty amazing. To make the thing really effective the fan still needed to be on, but even without it there was A LOT of heat. If we had only known that we might not have gotten a new stove, but since it was on its way already, and because of the new stove's attributes, we stayed the course.
Because it sticks out further than the insert we needed more insulative material, so we got a piece of limestone (set on two pieces of Mycor) to match the existing hearth. So here is our beautiful new stove, the Hearthstone Heritage (my, aren't we refined?). It is a hit with the cat, the laundry, and the rest of us, and we all look forward to figuring out how to maximize its performance and charm.

The Clydesdale will find a place in the workshop, and possibly eventually in another home. I have fantasies about using it in a cob-masonry stove kind of application in the future.

To the credit of Hearthstone, this was one of the earliest versions of the Clydesdale, one with a few design flaws. When we went in to look for a new stove the folks at the Fireplace Shop asked us what we had.
"What? You have a Clydesdale? Why would you want to replace that? Oh, it's the old one. Never mind."

2387

Emancipating the Potatoes

2010-12-02T06:54:00.000-08:00

While we were having Thanksgiving in northern Indiana our garden received the biggest rainfall since we began recording it in mid-April of this year. It won't be a surprise to folks in this area to know that the season's record breaking amount was only 1.85", and that fell over two days. (The next greatest two days were the 9th and 10th of July, adding up to 1.3".)

But it was enough. Anyone who asked how the garden was doing in the past three months heard "It looks like our sorghum did really well. The last thing we have to harvest is the potatoes, but they are locked in our brick-like soil. It's going to take a good rain to be able to get them out." People quit asking about the garden after awhile.

Now I have been volunteering, triumphantly, that the potatoes have been freed. We got back Sunday, and Monday's first order of business was to dig as much of the remaining potato area as possible because of the rain scheduled for Tuesday. (At left are the seed potatoes cut, ashed, and ready to plant, back in April.) We had planted 245 square feet of potatoes, and between July 20 and September 23 I dug out 143 sq ft of them. Mostly coinciding with one of our measly .1" rains. And the most area I managed in a day was 55 sq ft, because the ground was so hard.

Heading out Monday afternoon I dug the remaining 103 sq ft in an hour and a half, which is a testament to the qualities of perfectly moist clay soil. Not too mucky, not too dry, and the fork pulls them 'taties out like a dream. Well, almost.

We planted these potatoes in April and May, and I think the May plantings had just gotten their tops all established when it quit raining. Our yields reflect that we're working heavy soil that has had its fertility pillaged.

Just a hint of what I'm talking about: the May planting, our worst yielding, was 65 sq ft of Kennebec potatoes, and we got a total of 4 lb from that (Margo and Alten weigh them on our itsy-bitsy scale at right). It works out to 6.2 lb per 100 sq ft. For all of you commercial potato farmers out there (and I know you're reading my blog) that works out to 1.34 tons/acre. For the rest of you, it works out to .13 lb of harvested potato for every pound planted. Which is what we call deficit spending.

It is easy, at this stage, to look at our potatoes and declare failure, commencing to plant petunias next year instead. But I maintain that failure is important, and I routinely tell folks that in classes. When someone wants to know the most important thing to master in gardening I answer "observation." Paying attention to the processes in your garden means the difference between learning from your mistakes and suffering from them time after time. Also important (when discussing failure) is perspective. This is our first year here, and we hope to be producing all of our food within a few years. Is it better to have crop failure in one of our most important foods when we are getting on our feet, or to experience it when we are depending on that crop?

So what went wrong with our potatoes? There were two obvious culprits, which I have already mentioned. First, our soil is heavy clay, and little organic matter remains from its previous 20 or more years of being gardened. Root crops don't like that. They aren't allowed to expand, so they grow small and in funny shapes. The second was the lack of water, which we were counting on as rain (the healthiest form of irrigation for crops and soil). Additionally, we planted them about a month later than we wanted. Earlier planting would have given them quite a jump on growth before the hot (and dry) weather of summer hit. Quality of seed potatoes may have played a role, but most of ours looked very good. The first three variables are so overwhelming that smaller ones, like varieties planted, pest damage, and availability of micronutrients wouldn't add up to much.What will we do differently to address these troubles next year? Well, we'll start by getting a bigger scale, cause weighing even a small potato harvest 1 lb at a time gets tedious. Seriously though, we plan to post production of compost as a top priority, and though adding compost will probably take years to make an impact on this soil we're committing now. We saw that most of our crops needed at least twice as much water as they got which, though that wouldn't really be much water in the big picture, it is way more that we can store currently. So we'll add some rainwater storage and water more than just the newly planted stuff (and, of course, hope for a different weather pattern next year). We'll be as on-schedule as any farmer ever is next year, since we'll be starting out with more than practically nothing. And, finally, we'll watch and see what happens in the completely different conditions that next year will undoubtedly bring.
Until then we will be a little short on the homegrown mashed potatoes...

2175

3DW, 11/10

2010-11-21T05:49:00.000-08:00

Ecology Action holds its Three-Day Workshop (aka 3DW, as opposed to WD-40) twice a year, usually the first weekend of March and November. It is intended as an opportunity for folks who have read about, practiced, or heard of Grow Biointensive to learn more through lecture, discussion, and hands-on practice. Not only is is it an educational experience for the participants, but for those of us who attend many times as presenters or support staff it is an inspirational event.

This time over 50 people (some of them Ecology Action interns) came from California, Utah, New York, Oklahoma, Massachusetts, Colorado, New Hampshire, and Missouri, Manitoba and Alberta, Canada, and Ecuador to attend. Most of them had great gardening-related projects in the works, and all of them had fascinating work beyond gardening.
When we arrived the workshop presenters were John Jeavons (above and below, leading the participants down to EA's garden) and Ecology Action Garden Manager Carol Cox. Margo and I began doing some of the hands-on instruction after our first summer as apprentices, and began presenting during the lecture time in our third year. When Carol retired from EA last year we picked up the most of the classes she taught and created a couple of others. No comparison to the instruction she could give after 20 years of experience, but she was very encouraging to us, as was John. (At left, me workin' the overhead while teaching garden planning).
We decided that Alten was too young yet to hit the cross-country Amtrak circuit for this workshop, so I went alone this time and taught for both Margo and myself. And while the opportunity was a great one and I had a wonderful experience, I will be glad to have Margo back when we teach in March 2011.
So come and see us!
(By the way, one of the participants was Matt Harnack, a documentary filmmaker and co-coordinator of the Common Ground Demo Garden in Palo Alto, CA. All of the photos in this post were taken by him. Thanks, Matt!)

2063

The Garden Is Dead

2010-11-01T06:32:00.000-07:00

Long Live the Garden! (Our Fall garden is pictured above)

Our first frost happened on October 16, and didn't mess around. The low was 28° F, effectively ending our main season. Basil was the only hot-loving crop we still had in the ground, and had long passed its productive leaf stage. And that was good, because it is not made for 28°. We did manage to get some seed from it, and will test its viability after we clean it.

The only crop we have to harvest yet is our remaining ~140 sq ft of potatoes. Our lack of rain keeps us from that harvest. We know they grew fairly successfully, but the nature of our soil means they are locked in the ground until we get a couple of good rains in a row. The last time that happened was the 9th and 10th of July.

Potatoes excluded, we have now entered the stage of the garden that a lot of folks around here skip: the late-Fall and Winter plan. Our original idea was to plant the currently double-dug beds into cover crops, and prepare previously un-dug beds for our wheat, rye, and garlic plantings. Again, we needed some more rain to pull that one off, so we now have planted 600+ square feet of a wheat/rye/canadian field pea mix (on the left), 200 sq ft of cereal rye, 150 sq ft of winter wheat, and about 40 sq ft of garlic. And that's where we'll likely finish for this year.

Compromise number one was planting our wheat, rye and garlic in previously dug beds. Compromise number two was the nature of that planting. Garlic is garlic, and that simply involves separating cloves, and planting the choicest (the first sprout is pictured on the right). But the wheat and rye, which we want to bring to full maturity next summer, would normally have been transplanted on 5" centers. A combination of travel and lack of rain made that difficult, so we decided to just bite the bullet and broadcast. The only thing desirable in that choice, though, is the ease of planting. Weeding will be much more difficult, coverage will not be as thorough, and yields will suffer. Our final compromise was not so much a decision we made as a matter of indecision. Because we were so far behind, we gnashed our teeth about planting and digging options, and whether or not it would rain for us. As a result everything has been planted a month or more late.

But farming is about learning from mistakes, right? And by all accounts it has been a doozy of a season for all the farmers and gardeners around.

Since the 16th of October we have had frosts of 28, 32, 27, 24, and 23°, and when I left from watering the garden at 7:00 last night the temperature had already fallen to 39°F. I think it's time to hibernate.

This week brings a trip to California to teach at Ecology Action's 3-Day Workshop on the 5th, 6th, and 7th. It is always inspiring to get to meet so many motivated gardeners, share knowledge with them, and learn what they have to offer. Plus maybe I can bring some of the copious amounts of rain they're getting back home with me...

1875

Alten in October

2010-10-15T12:00:00.000-07:00

We have this great calendar that was given to us at a baby shower for Alten. It is a thirteen-month calendar where you can write down firsts, cute things done, weights and sizes, and paste current pictures. We've done an ok job of recording everything except the photos. To date, we haven't actually printed any of the pictures we've taken of him (though grandparents have). All our copies are stranded on this laptop in front of me, which is already been resurrected once.With this in mind (together with the many friends and family too far away to visit regularly), I'll post as many pictures as I can on the blog :) Because one computer may die, but the web is forever, right?

The top picture shows Alten's first interaction with a cat, specifically Grandpa and Grammy Royer's Sphynx. Our cat here at home will have nothing to do with him.

At left, Alten believes it is time to start solid foods. In this case a ceramic bowl. The scrambled eggs inside weren't apparently all that interesting.

And at right we have Margo and Alten decked out in cool rainy-day garb.

Above is Alten's first soccer ball, with which he is enamored. It was sent as a gift from good friends up north. At left Alten holds Sophie the Giraffe, which is natural latex with food based paints, and has lots of great things to chew on.

On the right is our currently 14 lb 12 ounce boy, no doubt watching the window or the ceiling fan (both of which provide endless fascination).

And last but not least, an action photo. Alten dearly loves chewing on anything that gets close enough, including my chin.

1650

It's Been Hot

2010-09-09T04:56:00.001-07:00

And dry.

Ok, so it's not saying much to note that this is the hottest summer since we've been keeping track, but we have had some hot weeks. The area farmers we've talked to attest to the fact that, though the season started out very promising, this has been one of the driest mid and late seasons they've had. Since their corn loved the heat and was able to cope with the lack of rain it doesn't look too bad. But the soybeans committed to many pods full of peas, which then didn't have the resources to develop into an ideal size. So while they are worth being harvested, they're disappointingly small.

The man who farms the land surrounding our garden also grows for the local farmer's market. When he's by looking at the fields we chat by the garden in that uniquely farmer-ish way. He said it has been a terrible year for produce, and most of the other market-gardeners he's talked to say the same. We had been feeling disappointed by the lack of time we had to give our garden this Spring and Summer, but he made us feel a little better by laughing and saying "You sure picked a year to start out! Whew!"

But of of course, what is talk without numbers?
First the temperatures:

Our last hard frost was the 28th of April, and our last light frost came May 10. It didn't reach 80 ° F in the garden until May 23rd, but that may have been a fluke.

Before I go any further, I have to explain our thermometer placement. When we first set it up there were no fenceposts, so we used a huge ornamental pear tree directly north of the garden. I was a little paranoid, I admit, that someone would steal our precious min/max thermometer, so it was buried thick in the foliage. We realized by July that the placement was seriously affecting our high temperatures, so we moved it to a box on a prominent fencepost on the 26th of that month. So all I can talk about before that point are trends, that one week was hot and another one cool.

Which is, really, what happened to screw up a lot of the serious market gardeners. For instance, the week after Alten was born the highs were in the mid-70's. The week after they were in the the mid 90's. Ensuing weeks were in the 90's, then low 80's, then up to the high 90's, then low 80's or high 70's. And, of course, you don't remember the cool reprieves. The hottest it got for us was 100° F, on August 13. I wish we had a humidity gauge, because I think those numbers would really impress you all.

The daily low temperatures are as interesting as the highs, maybe more so. Back at Ecology Action we talked a lot (covetously, mostly) about the optimal growing range for plants in general, which is 60° F to 95° F. Below 60° F most plants slow down their processes, and above 95° F as well. At the research farm and at the Golden Rule garden summer days would not uncommonly top 95°, and summer nights would rarely stay above 60°. It's a pretty big handicap to have your plants shutting down twice in a 24 hour cycle. So we would keep track of the number of nights in a summer that stayed above 60°. The first summer we were there was very hot, and yielded 16 nights above 60°. The next summer there were none.

This place is a different story. Tomatoes seem to gain a foot and a half overnight, and if you sleep outside you can hear the corn growing. June through August gave us 74 nights above 60°, 13 of which were above 70°. Which is only good for plants, being a little warm for the farmers.

And since Alten is going to be working in that sun and heat with us, I made him a little sun-hat for his own...

Now rainfall:

Between April 16 (when we put up our rain gauge) and the end of June we received 12" of rain, on the dot. Then the tide turned. July totaled 2.45", and early August rains totaled .55". We haven't gotten more than a hundredth of an inch since then, and that is too little for our gauge (or our soil) to register. Luckily, our rain barrels are attached to a roof so large that a hundredth of an inch can fill them up. So we've made the 110 gallons of stored rainwater last the two weeks or so between brief spates of precipitation.

Rain would be good for the crops, but it is absolutely necessary for bed preparation. Our soil is quite clayey and severely lacking in organic matter. The best time to dig has been two days after a good rain of between .5" and 1.5". Earlier is too muddy, later is too dry and brick-like. What happens, then, when you haven't had any rain of note for a month and a half? Well, you water the soil heavily if you have water. If not, you hope it rains before you need to put in Fall crops.

The good news is that yesterday we acquired four new 55 gallon drums from our local soda pop distribution facility, which will triple our capacity for storage.

Of course, they won't do any good without some rain...

Composting 101

2010-09-06T10:37:00.000-07:00

Today brought us our first batch of compost! While Margo and Alten built a new pile, I broke up the finished one and sifted the cured compost from the un-decomposed material. It looks great, smells great, and marks the beginning of our garden's trip toward soil rejuvenation. Hurrah!
In honor of the occasion I am reprinting here the first of three compost-related posts I wrote for the Golden Rule Garden blog in May of last year...

Here I sit, in the shade, sipping cold kombucha in the midst of our first 100° F days of the year. What topic could be hotter than compost? Or more appropriate, given that it is Spring and we have an abundance of weeds, cover crops (which we refer to instead as "compost crops"), and all the dry, stalk-y, crunchy mature material we saved from last year.

Michele, of the Rabbit Wrangler Ranch in Idaho, posted some questions after reading my admittedly vague reference to our composting in the Happy Spring Equinox post. Hopefully this will answer your questions and bring up a lot more.

I often feel like most of my experientially-oriented posts should start with a disclaimer, so here's this one: there are many ways to compost, many books written on the topic, and many, many products sold to help you compost. This is how we do it here, and how it is taught in Grow Biointensive agriculture through Ecology Action's courses.
The recipe is fairly simple: 4 parts mature material, 4 parts immature material, one part soil. Add water. Sounds easy, right? It is. And the details aren't even very devilish.
Mature material, popularly referred to as "dry matter", consists technically of any plant matter that has achieved full maturity. The easiest example is straw, which can come from rice, wheat, rye, barley, oats, and so forth. Also included are corn stalks, quinoa stalks, sunflower stalks, amaranth stalks... You get the picture. Essentially anything that is tough and crunchy. Tree leaves that fall of their own accord count. Burnt bacon doesn't.
Immature material, popularly referred to as "green matter", is basically anything that has not gone to maturity. Slug-eaten lettuce, grass clippings, most kitchen waste, weeds (which you hopefully got before they went to seed, because then they'd be mature material with a dark side), and anything else you pulled out before it completed its life cycle.
The reason for the revised terminology is that the common terms are deceptive. Grass clippings that have been sitting on the lawn for a week can certainly be dry and brown. But that does not change their composition, except that there is less water in them. And it's all about the composition.
I will oversimplify to illustrate my point: for our composting purposes, anything you put in your pile is made up of carbon and nitrogen in varying ratios, and the carbon involved varies in its density. The mature material we use is relatively higher in carbon than the immature, and the carbon is denser. Because of that fact the organic matter from composted mature material will last much longer in the soil, which is what we want. But if you build a pile only of mature material it will take years to break down completely.
The microbes that will decompose your pile want appreciable amounts of both carbon and nitrogen, which is where the immature material comes in. Though its carbon is less helpful to us in the long run, immature material is relatively higher than mature material in nitrogen, and its presence in the pile will help the microbes do their job and give you lots of nice, long lasting compost (human-encouraged organic matter), which in turn makes your soil system healthier which makes your plants more productive and pleasing to the eye, and eventually culminates in world peace.
Soil is the last ingredient, and we add it in small quantities for a couple of reasons. It's true that adding soil inoculates the pile with helpful microbes (which would have happened eventually anyway), but more importantly it helps the pile maintain moisture and moderate its temperature. This may be less necessary in a cooler, moister climate than ours, but is vital here.
Now you know the ingredients, so here's how it goes together: Choose a spot to build your pile, preferably in direct contact with soil, and possibly on a garden bed you can spare. The liquid that leaches out will do great things for the soil underneath, and direct contact will also aid microbes coming and going through your pile. It should be a minimum of 3x3', which will help maintain the core temperature and moisture of your pile. It can be bigger if you like, but not smaller.
Stick a fork in the soil to loosen it where the pile will go, then lay down a few inches of rough mature material. This is a different category of mature, things that won't break down easily. Like tree branches. The point is to allow air to enter the pile and excess moisture to leave. It also creates a definable bottom to the pile.
Now you start building, adding a layer of mature, a layer of immature, and a layer of soil. We use 5 gallon buckets (not sustainable, no, but plentiful, free in any quantity, and standard in size for measuring). One layer for us is two buckets of mature, two buckets of immature, one-half bucket of soil.
Oh- and we build them as square as possible. This makes the most efficient use of space and materials. Plus they are aesthetically pleasing...
At this point, having not answered more than one of Michele's questions, I am going to end this post. The next, Composting 102, covers a little bit of the what's, why's, do's and don'ts of the process, hopefully answering some of the questions that this post generated.

August Smiles

2010-08-19T05:36:00.000-07:00

Well, about a week ago Alten started smiling with a little more intention. As the book told us, earlier on babies do smile, but they are inside smiles, inadvertent and reflective of a sense of inner peace. Which we could all use, I'm sure. And we were always delighted to catch one of those, most of which happened when he was asleep. But there is something special about having a little baby (especially one's own) looking into one's eyes and smiling.
Back by popular demand, then, are some pictures of Alten.

At left is one of our recent trip to Mojeji Ranch, where Margo had business with the Youth Peace Travel Team, and Alten and I got to tail along and visit our friends, play games, camp in a tent, pick beans and tomatoes, mock guinea hens, and drive cattle.

And here is Alten after a bath, which is quite the popular time with him.

And finally, patient Mama took a wonderful video exhibiting the smiley boy.

Carrying On

2010-07-31T10:45:00.001-07:00

Since we have the blessing of working at home most of the time, we get to be around Alten as much as we want. Which is, of course, constantly. The only downside is that, at best, you have one free hand. When holding such a young baby, though, one must support the head as well. That leaves one able to walk around freely, but not actually do anything.

Luckily, humanity solved this problem tens of thousands of years ago (if not earlier). The solution is to tie the baby to yourself! Gently, of course. We came across plenty of examples before Alten's birth, from reading Continuum Concept to talking with friends to seeing strangers in health-food stores. We were convinced even then that we were going to give it a serious go, with hopes that we would be able to work with our baby in the garden from the beginning.
The internet was, as always, our resource for what is possible. We found many examples, and put our favorites on our baby shower lists. To date we have three that we've tried and liked. And please remember when viewing the pictures: we haven't mastered them yet, so if the setup looks a little awkward it's because we're not pros. Yet.
Our first carrier was the of the "mei tai" persuasion. Its origins are Chinese, and it is basically a square piece of cloth with a fabric strip coming off each corner (here Margo is hiding the lower strap with her arm). Ours came from Mei Tai Baby, and was a gift from our former garden manager, Ellen. It was the first we tried Alten in, and it is how we found out that he reeeeally doesn't like being restrained. Initially he was fine in it while asleep, but if he awoke in it there was hell to pay. He's getting much more used to it, though. It's Margo's current favorite.
The next is a Baby Björn carrier, which was a gift from friends in Lakewood, Colorado. It's high tech, with metal and plastic and fabric and cool snapping things. It was the first one we could successfully keep him happy in, and is pretty easy to pop on and off. I have sported Alten around the grocery store a couple of times in it. I have also worn it in the woodshop, where it was comfy enough for him that he went to sleep while I was banging on the loppers that I'm trying to repair. The downsides are that it can only be worn on the front and that if you bend way over it feels like the occupant can fall right out. But it's great for walks and shopping.

Finally, my current favorite, the baby wrap. It was introduced to us by our friend Rebekah who, when we visited her family in February, gave us a complete workshop in which baby products and philosophies they found helpful. The baby wrap is a simple piece of fabric, in our case about 24" wide by 15' long, which you tie around yourself in processes reminiscent of origami. I was hooked by Rebekah's demonstration. Of further inspiration was the website WrapYourBaby.com, which gives instructions for more than 15 ways to tie your baby to you.

I like this one best at the moment because 1) Alten seems to tolerate it well, 2) it holds him very close to my own center of gravity, which is good for my back, and 3) he doesn't sway around in it as I walk.
We now feel confident in forging ahead with baby-wearing, and look forward to becoming more comfortable working in them.

Another Glorious Tool

2010-07-29T09:31:00.000-07:00

We're building our tool base bit by bit. First came our spades and forks, both from Bountiful Gardens. Next, I am pleased to say, came our metal Haws watering can, also from BG. Pleased, because during Seed Propagation classes I would haul out the can and talk about what a great tool it was and that, despite its expense, it would be the first garden purchase I would make after spade and fork. (Then I would use it to water the flats we had just pricked out into, and everyone would ooh and ah.) There followed a string of other tools, like a rake, trenching spade, kama, pruners, sickles (which deserve their own post), and bow saw.

But the most recent is another classic in the small-scale world. Hula hoe, scuffle hoe, stirrup hoe; call it what you will, it fills a void. Once you start getting tools, you'll probably end up getting one of these. We use them to great effect one soil that needs a quick clearing of weeds or a little loosening up on top, and in between crops to take care of light weed troubles quickly.

After digging our first potatoes and harvesting our first grains we realized it was time, right then, to acquire our hoe. I went online looking at all the big chain stores in the area, like Lowes, Home Depot, and TSC (none of whom will I deign to hyperlink), trying to find the best deal to pick up on that day. Margo was on the phone catching up with our friend Elaine, who runs the butt-kicking CSA Everblossom Farm out in Adams County, PA. I was getting a bit overwhelmed, not finding a great looking specimen, so I had Margo ask Elaine where she'd go.

"Unless you have a really good hardware store, I'd buy from Johnny's. They sell great, sturdy stuff."
And I said "But we need it now. We'd have to wait to get it shipped. Where would you go if you wanted it now?"
"I'd order from Johnny's and wait. And then, later, I wouldn't be disappointed, because the tool wouldn't be crap."

While Elaine has many excellent qualities, two of the things I appreciate most about her are that she's straightforward and she has good judgment. Her advice carried, and soon after we ordered the 7" Stirrup Hoe from Johnny's Selected Seeds (and employee-owned company). And today it came!

Elaine's advice was really a reflection of our own tool-buying philosophy, which I had temporarily put on hold due to a feeling of urgency. When buying tools, only buy what you need. And, if possible, buy the best you can get. The best isn't necessarily the most expensive, but it will certainly not be the cheapest.

Our rationale is this: with a good tool you will work more efficiently and be a better steward of your resources Most of us nowadays don't have the skills to repair tools we break, but a good tool will 1) be less likely to break in the first place, 2) not be too flimsy to repair, and 3) will be worth the time, energy , and/or money to repair. Digging spades make a great example. We got a Clarington Forge spade for ~$70, which will last until the metal wears away, 30 or more years. If the handle breaks it can be replaced. It would be cheaper to buy a Craftsman digging spade from Sears for $25. They have a lifetime warranty, so when it breaks, which it will because the metal is pressed instead of forged, you just take it in and they'll replace it.

On the work end of things, a good tool allows you to accomplish your tasks with confidence in your tool. With a cheap tool you worry more about its limitations, and are not allowed give a task your all. The cheap tool will break more frequently, causing frustration and costing you time and possibly money.

On the resource end, a good tool may consume more resources or energy in its construction than a cheap tool, but the cheap tool will have a short lifespan. Then you'll need another, then another again. I note that fiberglass handles are quite popular, being more durable than wood. But when wood breaks it can be burned or cut into another handle. When fiberglass breaks it becomes trash and a health hazard. A future post will illustrate this reality with some personal experience...

So friends, buy worthwhile tools. Cast not thy talents into the abyss of cheapness.

I have been prevailed upon to include recent footage of Alten. This one highlights his cute hiccups.

Introducing Alten Lee!

2010-07-10T08:31:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to get to this post for at least a week, but have been somehow distracted by something cute and cuddly in the next room over...

Meet Alten! He was born in the wee hours, 3:57 am on June 28th, weighed in at 9 lb 9 oz, and was 21" long. He got a 9 on his 5-minute Apgar, for those of you who put stock in early standardized testing. Though he went a week and a half past his due date he came out with all the signs of being right on time.

The weeks leading up to his birth were getting more and more uncomfortable for Margo. We who once said "The baby can come whenever it wants" began saying "Ok baby, we are ready for you now."

In planning for the pregnancy we knew we wanted a home-birth if possible, and started seeing a midwife in California before we left. Between December and April we had no appointments, because we hadn't yet decided where we would be living. As soon as we set down our roots here in Ohio we started asking around, not even knowing if home-birth was legal in the Refined East. By grace we stumbled onto a home-birth midwife who is professional, knowledgeable, gentle, and inspires confidence and calm.We did end up birthing at home, in our bedroom, in a peaceful, safe atmosphere. It went beautifully, and I was grateful for the presence of our midwife and her team.

Above right shows Alten one day old on a changing pad made for us by friends in California. He's swaddled in a receiving blanket made for us by our Aunt in Florida because, as she said, "They just don't make those blankets big enough anymore."

At this point I would like to say that, from the time we announced the pregnancy up to this day, we have felt surrounded by the love and support of our friends and family everywhere. We've been given patience and understanding, money and gift cards, clothing and accouterments both purchased and hand-made, and words of wisdom and encouragement. We expect we will need a lot more of those last two, especially. Many, many thanks to all of you who kept us in your thoughts and/or prayers. Alten has a ton of aunts and uncles out there, and we tell him all about them :) And now for a bunch of pictures!

This is how Alten and I relax best.

And this is what a well-fed Alten looks like...

He has started training in his parents' disciplines. Here is some deep yoga (we think this is the one he has been rumored to practice for months at a time).

And here he is practicing his Aikido tenchi-nagi.

And finally, here's the whole family...
I think it is safe to say there will be more of this kind of thing in coming posts...

First Fruits (and vegetables)

2010-06-24T18:24:00.000-07:00

I'll begin by letting you all know that the baby hasn't come yet - we have a long list of folks to notify, and probably all of you are on it (unless we don't know you personally). You ought to know within a day when it arrives. We remain grateful for all the thoughts and prayers coming our way, and we tell the baby all the time that it is expected, with love, by many.

So that said, we have harvested the very first products of our garden labors. Margo's coveted Schweizer Riesen snow peas and our dear Red Russian kale came of age today! They were both featured in a lentil dish that Margo concocted for dinner.

In the interests of data collection we plan to weigh all of the harvests out of the demonstration garden, which is the 4,000 sq ft area we are starting with. And in the interests of juggling our numbers with greater ease (as almost everyone else in the world does) we will be using the metric system in our garden, for weights at least. Anyone who has frequently had need to do calculations using pounds and ounces will understand, as will anyone who has tried to teach someone from another country how to do calculations using pounds and ounces.

This has long been our plan, and a friend who used to teach middle school science and recently retired scored us a metric triple-beam balance to aid us in our quest.

Today we recorded 60.7 g of kale and 117 g of snow peas (photos pending). I feel like a world citizen already!

Confusion and the Art of Tractor Maintenance

2010-06-18T04:41:00.000-07:00

We have this classy old Ford 2000 tractor that does all of our big mowing and pulling around of heavy things. To look at a clean one you can click here. It's a small tractor, easy to use, and has the bare minimum of parts. When something goes wrong, then, it's about as easy as a thing can be to fix. Provided you know what any given part does, what its name is, and where it can be found. Two out of three isn't good enough - but that's what friends are for!

It hasn't been starting well for the past six months, and sometimes hasn't started at all. Most recently I was mowing pretty far out and turned it off so I could sit in the shade for a bit and breath clean air (it smokes out the bottom of the engine pretty good sometimes, but I am assured that isn't fatal). I got back on to take it home, turned the key, and got nothing but a clacking noisemaker sound. Repeated attempts yielded similar results. I went to get the truck to jump it, but to no avail.

Luckily the husband of one of Mom's egg cartel friends does tractor maintenance, among many other things, so I called up Larry. He's very knowledgeable, kind and compassionate, which is a great set of traits. It means he won't laugh at me if I sound unintentionally foolish, and treats me as if I know what I'm doing.

Larry suggested that if the battery was alright (or jumping it didn't work) then it was probably the solenoid starter or the starter motor. Both of which I had heard the names of before. I even knew what the starter motor was for. He said "The solenoid will have four posts on it, two little ones and two big ones. One big one is from the battery terminal, the other big one goes to the starter motor. One little one goes to the ground, and one comes from the ignition." I can't remember if I had found the solenoid by this point.

"To see if it's the ignition that's the problem you can just create a short around that. You want to get a screwdriver and touch it to the big post coming into the solenoid and the little wire going to the ignition." I never understood the principle of hot-wiring before, but this kind of explains it. You bypass the ignition by sticking a conductive device across the contacts the ignition itself is supposed to connect.

We hung up and I looked for the solenoid. It took longer than necessary, but I did find it. I found the big posts and the little posts, and tried the hot-wiring. It didn't work at all, so I called Larry back.

"Well if that doesn't work" he said," it means the ignition isn't the problem, and the solenoid might be bad. So then you'll want to try bypassing the solenoid by making a short between the main posts. But you'll want a big screwdriver for that." Unfortunately the posts are on opposites sides of the solenoid, and I don't have a screwdriver shaped like that. Larry suggested that I use a wire, but a big wire, because it would be taking the whole load of the battery.

I didn't have anything big, but I did have some electric fence wire. I figured three strands would be good enough, so I twisted them together, bent them in a U, and held them onto the posts with rubber-handled pliers. The three strands lit up on the ends like a light bulb and commenced to actually burn. That's about when I remembered I had jumper cables in the truck. Those elicited a pleasant spark, but nothing else. Larry's reaction was that it may be the starter, but that starters don't often just completely quit working - they wheeze, grind, or otherwise attempt their job. His last suggestion was to get the solenoid and starter tested.

The solenoid was easy to remove, so I did that first. I took it in to the equipment repair place where we get everything smaller than a tractor fixed, and the guy tested it. It looked fine to him, and his only advice was to rub off any corrosion and make sure it made good contact to the tractor frame where it bolted on. Apparently every electrical component on this tractor is grounded all over the place.

I scrubbed it, stuck it back on with all it's wires, and turned the key... Click. At least it wasn't the clacking noisemaker. I was inspired to try jumping it again, and this time it coughed to life. I did not turn it off until it was safe in the barn. Once there, it refused to start again.

While carpooling to Aikido with a friend who had been a master mechanic (not that you'd have to be for this observation) I was told "You need a new battery. It could be the generator, but you definitely need a new battery." So I got a new battery, and I'll hook it up today. (At right is the solenoid, featuring big copper posts on left and right).

You might say Larry gave me misleading advice, but this is what I appreciate so much about Larry: he took me at my word that I jumped it correctly (which I didn't) and that we could rule that piece out. He then led me through further troubleshooting. He didn't say "I know you tried jumping it, but I still think it's the battery," and he didn't say "are you sure you jumped it right? Try it again and do it this way. Maybe I should come over and make sure you know how to jump your own piece of equipment." That would have been aggravating. So he let me make my own mistake. Which, incidentally, was attaching the cable to the negative battery post on the tractor instead of the frame when jumping it. This tractor just doesn't swing that way...

Wiggles and Giggles

2010-06-15T08:30:00.000-07:00

A complete change of subject matter is in order as I, Margo, compose my first blog entry. I’ll have you know I’ve already created several in my head, so you’ve enjoyed various imaginary-entries on topics ranging from garden planning, tough choices in a first season, using the goods in the kitchen, and rain water barrels! I hope you’ve enjoyed them.

But now, I’ll just make a quick note about the most prominent reality of life: PREGNANCY! We are now at 40 weeks. The counting is a little strange, basically this means full term, at our “due date,” and very large! I’ve now gained 30-35 pounds, surpassing Dan months ago and full of baby.

Little Royer-Miller has several baby names on the list for selection when we meet him/her and some pet names we use now. I oscillate between Little Munchkin, Wigglet, and Babilicious.

Movement is one of the most amazing things, the baby moving I mean. (Though my movement at this stage is notable.) It started as butterfly flutters in my belly in January and has now progressed to major kicks with tiny feet sticking out of my belly on the left side. Leg action just under my ribcage is visible to family members sitting across the table. And the little butt is probably the cutest thing ever on my right side, sometimes it rolls around as the feet move. All of this is totally miraculous and periodically sends me into giggle fits. Will I giggle as much at her/his every move when in front of me instead of inside? Only time will tell.

Last note, as you can see from the previous pictures I continued to work in the garden, transplanting and weeding on hands and knees, through 8 months. At this point my body doesn’t like it. So I prepare for the baby at home, room prep, cooking, napping, grounding, etc. while Dan prepares by getting as much done in the garden as he can. All his work feels so important and special to me right now, not being comfortable there myself. It is his gift of support and keeps us moving forward on our path as we wait for the new arrival to grace our lives and join the journey.

Cleansing Our Pallets, Part II

2010-05-30T04:47:00.000-07:00

The internet will back me up on this: there are endless uses for the ubiquitous pallet. And, in this case, necessity is the mother of invention. My necessity was to get rid of extra pieces of pallets that wouldn't work for building flats. Believe it or not, all those "waste" stringers I mentioned in Part I were the perfect material for something else I didn't even think about needing: tables to put the flats on! Construction was very simple. Each table requires 11 stringers, which you can get from three or four pallets (depending on their design). I started by removing the extra wood and nails from them. This step isn't absolutely necessary for the legs and top surface, but it looks much nicer and you won't have nails grabbing you as you walk by.

I had removed the boards for flat material by cutting right along each stringer with a circular saw. That left the stringers you see in the photo here, complete with pieces of board still nailed in. I found I could break these off of the nails easily with sideways hammer blows. I was left with nails that could not be pulled out. Most would allow themselves to be hammered in, some were bent and hammered flat.

All of the stringers were 48" long, so I let that dictate the length and width of the table. Two stringers would form the crosspieces, making the table 48" long, and five stringers would be cut in half to make ten surface pieces for a 24" wide table. The legs were cut to 37" to create a reasonable height. I chose the six straightest, flattest, and strongest stringers for the legs and cross-pieces.

I assembled the surface first, laying the 24" surface pieces flat on the cross pieces and nailing them. The gap between each was something like 1½". Then I upended the surface and attached the legs with screws. I spent some time making sure they were square before affixing them, but it turned out not to make a clear difference. They were a little wonky anyway.

When I righted the whole thing it was obvious that it was not so stable, so I added the diagonals you see in the photos. They were scrap flat material.

I needn't state that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and that function often comes before aesthetics for me. If I find that Warren Buffet writes me into his will I may commission an Amish cabinet maker to fashion me some nice mahogany flat tables. Until that point, though, I will be very pleased with these. They are sturdy enough to jump up and down on (our seedlings do a lot of that), durable enough to last at least a few seasons, and were free wood.

You Think YOU Have Problems?

2010-05-27T15:16:00.001-07:00

Just imagine how this guy felt.

When Margo was walking through the dog room this morning she noticed that we had a guest. "Hey Dan! Come here. There's a chipmunk stuck in the window." I'm not sure what I heard her say, but it wasn't that, because I stayed at the table eating my oatmeal. At her insistence I came to look, and was surprised. And, of course, went to get the camera.
Some folks use video to make an educational impact. I can already tell that, on this blog at least, it is going to be reserved for entertainment. Here's the main idea: this chipmunk is in between the window and the window screen. How did it get there? Who knows.

We just know how we wanted to get it out.

It would have been pretty easy to remove the screen and let it jump the five or so feet to the ground, but then it would have had to face three dogs who were anxious to make its acquaintance. So we got it out the other way, and got another priceless photo.
I think the whole operation will go smoother the next time this happens. If only we had gotten to practice first on a sloth...

Baby spinach, anyone? It's organic!

Kamütlichkeit

2010-05-10T04:39:00.000-07:00

That would be the state of contentment with one's ancient wheat. We finished our spring grain planting a week or two ago, spotted any damaged or disappeared plants last week, and can now settle in for the joy of watching it tiller and grow. While we're doing everything else, that is. You can find the varieties we planted below in The First Transplant. Next year we will put in some less common varieties of barley and spring wheat that we ordered from Bountiful Gardens to see how they do in our climate.

But back to our featured star. Kamut, like an ancient anything, is kind of a funny bird. Its past, previous to its appearance in the US in 1949, is foggy. A concise assessment of the story can be found here. And a briefer one follows: A US Airman stationed in Portugal was approached by a man who offered him 36 grains of this wheat, telling him it was found in a pyramid tomb in Egypt. He mailed them home to his grain-growing Dad, who grew them to great satisfaction.

It makes for an entertaining story, which could be embellished (but not verified) to a great extent. Without knowing more it could be taken as a complete hoax. But Kamut, compared to modern improved wheat, has a much larger kernal, and despite its 30% higher protein content it doesn't illicit a reaction from many who have wheat allergies. Adding that its DNA is different enough from modern varieties that geneticists have had a hard time figuring out its definite origins, you have a compelling case that it has remained out of breeding circulation for a long time.
(Here are images comparing Kamut with a variety of hard red winter wheat. I would have taken them myself, but, um, we planted all of ours. These are from thenibble.com and homestylemercantile.com, respectively.)

And don't bother looking it up on wikipedia. As of this posting the entry for Kamut looks like it was written by the company that holds its patent. What? It's patented? Yes, I was skeptical too, but I can see where they are coming from. They got the patent in 1990, which made it one of the only 5 non-genetically engineered patented plants (there were already 65 patented GE plants by then). The company gives their explanation on the "Why a Trademark?" portion of their site. And, I have to say, it seems like an ok idea. Especially because Kamut is already in wide circulation, its growing is not in any way prohibited, and the trademark seems to be applied only to the marketing of it. As opposed to Monsanto, who might sue you into bankruptcy for unknowingly having one of their patented seeds in your field. Instead, it seems that Kamut International is trying to maintain the purity of seed claiming to be Kamut. Which is fine by me.

We were aided in our planting by my sister Anne, who was visiting for a few days. As you can see, we were all working together on a strict timeline. That's me, behind, double-digging the bed just before they move their digging board back. Not standard operating procedure. But good, wholesome, community agriculture fun all the same!

You Read to Me, I'll Read to You (Part II)

2010-04-30T17:55:00.000-07:00

Here's a running list of books we've read. We'll endeavor to keep it updated in order, but initially it will be what we remember having read. The ones we've found to be exceptional in some way get an asterisk. Ones we didn't finish get a minus.

Unbowed, by Wangari Maathai finished 11/23/11 -- As the narrative evolved past the first chapter it became more and more incredible to think she managed to get anything accomplished. And if it had been biography instead of autobiography I would have wondered at what point she would be "disappeared". Peris substantiated this sense by commenting that she was the only one who stood up to President Moi, and everyone expected she would be killed. Read this book to see what is possible in impossible circumstances. We learned the sad news two days after dropping Peris and Mary off at the airport, that on that Sunday, September 25th, she passed on.
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Brontë finished 3/15/11 -- Like The Sixth Sense, it has a plot twist plot twist that everyone who's read it will give away inadvertently when you tell them you are reading it. But we enjoyed it anyway.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame, by Victor Hugo finished 11/20/10 -- Dan was disgusted with it. Especially all of the really boring parts, which he would have skipped but Margo said were "part of the experience". It is, however, great writing, and he strings you along to the very end, just like Melville's Moby Dick.
*Shogun, by James Clavell
Tai Pan, by James Clavell
Middlemarch, by George Eliot (actually Mary Anne Evans)
Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen
Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen
The Continuum Concept, by Jean Liedloff
*Autobiography of a Yogi, by Paramahansa Yogananda
Moby Dick, by Herman Melville
- Look Homeward, Angel, by Thomas Wolfe
- Mists of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley
Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkein
The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkein
Harry Potter, 1-3, by J.K. Rowling
- Harry Potter, 4-7, by J.K. Rowling
Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis
The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemingway
The Three Musketeers, by Alexandre Dumas
Anna Karenina, by Leo Tolstoy
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams
Don Juan, by Lord Byron
Saving Fish from Drowning, by Amy Tan
The Kitchen God's Wife, by Amy Tan
The Joy Luck Club, by Amy Tan
Le Père Goriot, by Honoré de Balzac
Dune, by Frank Herbert
Dragons in the Water, by Madeleine L'Engle
An Acceptable Time, by Madeleine L'Engle
Many Waters, by Madeleine L'Engle
Arm of the Starfish, by Madeleine L'Engle
A Swiftly Tilting Planet, by Madeleine L'Engle
A Wind in the Door, by Madeleine L'Engle
A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle
The Odyssey, by Homer
The Golden Compass Trilogy, by Philip Pullman
The Mary Russell books, by Laurie R. King
The Complete Sherlock Holmes, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Seabiscuit, by Laura Hillenbrand
Mister God, This is Anna, by Flynn (actually Sydney Hopkins)
Artemis Fowl; The Lost Colony, by Eoin Colfer
The Call to Shakabaz, by Amy Wachspress
Kidnapped! , by Robert Louis Stevenson
Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson
The Black Arrow, by Robert Louis Stevenson
The Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling

You Read to Me, I'll Read to You

2010-04-30T11:11:00.000-07:00

One of our favorite activities together, right up there with game playing, is reading to one another. It started with Harry Potter (before the series got a little too dark for Margo's enjoyment), moved on to other series books one or the other of us knew well, and grew to Lord of the Rings proportions by the time we got married. In the past four years we have begun targeting masterpieces. Ones we have never read (or read and forgot) but that we have heard of many times, and maybe feared. Like Moby Dick, which we found very entertaining. Or Don Juan, the epic poem by Lord Byron, which took a little time in getting the flow right, but which was also very enjoyable. Sometimes it's a book that one of us has read and wants to introduce to the other, like Dune or Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Very infrequently we will give up in the middle of one due to one party or the other's objections. Like Mists of Avalon and Look Homeward, Angel.

You might wonder where we get so much time to read. Somehow it justs fits into spaces. Like when I am driving or doing dishes, or when Margo is cooking or knitting. And if the book is very good, we make time.

All this is to introduce our current reading, which I would like to keep updated as we go along with a reference from the sidebar. Once this post is buried under the many to come, that is.

Last month we finished Tai-Pan, by James Clavell. We read it because we liked Shogun so much. It was entertaining, even riveting at points, but not the grand read that Shogun is.

We just finished Saving Fish from Drowning, by Amy Tan. Having read a few others by her we both feel like this one is alright, is entertaining, but has not made us better people or expanded our horizons. This might sound a little foolish, but the latter two are the main characteristics of what we call a great book.

We just started The Continuum Concept, which was a baby shower gift from our friend Dawn. It has the mark of a book that will help us significantly in perspective for child-raising, and will alter the way we look at the world. Needless to say, we are very much enjoying it. Its one peculiarity is that the style is a bit text-booky, in terms of big words and long sentences. This means that I have to be the one to read, because I focus better that way.

And we have a list of all-time greats, which will hopefully grow. It is in no particular order.

Shogun, by James Clavell, was fascinating, enlightening, and held our attention for months. It really helped me understand the samurai origins of Aikido, and what bushido means. It gave us both a better understanding of life and death, and what honor is. In a way. One of the best stories I have ever read.

Autobiography of a Yogi, by Paramahansa Yogananda. I can't say much about it without making it sound lame. It is about saints and enlightened masters, how you get to be that way, and stresses that the capacity for love is the most powerful tool one can have. Besides that, and that it is at the top of our list, there isn't much more I can say to recommend it.

Our advice, if you want to find the best books in the library, is to talk to your librarian. We had great conversations with ours at the Willits Public Library almost every time we were there. One of the highlights was when we asked the head librarian, "Donna, we want to read some Hemingway. Which one would you start with?" Her answer was "None of them! I can't stand Hemingway!" She explained that her focus was the romantics, like Thomas Wolfe. Minimalists just weren't her cup of tea. But she did go on to consult the summer reading program's lists, and came up with The Old Man and the Sea. Which we liked just fine.

A Shout Out to Our Peeps

2010-04-26T13:19:00.000-07:00

What started out as a rainy day somewhat devoid of promise has ended up a special treat: our chicks arrived! Ok, I should be more specific. They're technically Mom's chicks, but like a new puppy we can all pretend ownership when such intense cuteness is involved.

Mom participates in what I would call an Egg Cartel. Together with a number of other folks in the area who keep small numbers of chickens, she gathers eggs, pools the dozens, and delivers them to folks all over the western Dayton area. For those trying to muscle in? I'm pretty sure there are some midnight visits from The Flock. Chickens seem dumb, but they can be senselessly brutal, let me tell you. Anyone who has seen a frog or mouse get into the hen-house knows I'm not joking. And anyone who has been around chickens much knows they are certainly senseless.

But I'm straying. The point is that Mom keeps a flock of about 40-50 hens around at any one time. After about 3 years they stop laying and end up in the pressure cooker getting canned. After being killed, of course. So every year she gets another batch of chicks.

This year we have New Hampshire Reds, Black Sex-Links, Barred Rocks, and Ameraucana chicks. (If you visit those links and click on the big photo it shows two or three more great pictures, one of them the chick.) Incidentally, we ordered ours from Mt. Healthy Hatchery, in nearby Mt. Healthy, Ohio.

We showed up at the local grain elevator, which receives the orders, and made a fuss. How can you not? Baby chicks are so cute. I'll not pretend we didn't make fools of ourselves. We took them home to the pen that Mom so expertly set up: a foot-tall cardboard barrier, newspaper floor, two one-quart waterers and a food trough, plus three heat lamps. A few rocks, too, to make it interesting. And we put them in, one by one, and introduced them to the water. As Mom pointed out, the huge 5,000 chicken operations must somehow get by without doing this, but it's tradition. Each one must be set in front of the water and have its beak dipped in at least twice. So they know it's water, right? Never mind that they spend all their time running around pecking things, from food to spiders to chicken poop to their own feet. They would probably discover the water. But we don't leave it to chance: it gives us an excuse to handle each and every one of them!

At this point I am going to try a first in my blogging experience, and stick in a video. I read a book recently that asserted that chickens are much more entertaining than tv. Absolutely, I say. But what about chickens on tv?

The First Transplant

2010-04-22T03:57:00.000-07:00

As you can imagine, we have been reveling in firsts this Spring. Of course we have the first tick seen, first tick embedded, first chicken trying to eat our seedlings, first dog trampling our newly dug bed, and first blister. But there is the positive, too! First bed marked out and dug, first flatting, first visitors, and first purchase of exciting new tool.

And, certainly, our first transplanting. It has been intriguing to hear folks around here, when we would talk of our late start, say "Oh, yeah, well we don't usually get our garden in until around the end of April or later." In our experience, the garden is always "in". It may not seem as "in" when most everything is dead and the ground is frozen, so our feelings may change on that note. But the fact remains that it is always a garden, and we would have been working in it a month before now had we been here since February instead of off gallivanting on both coasts.

Back to the point: we have been itching to be in the garden, and we figured our most crucially timed crop would be spring grains. In pursuit of that end we flatted them first, along with our solanaceae. I dug while Margo got a start, then we both tucked in to get them done. We are now the proud guardians of 225 sq ft of spring grains: Pika, Musky, and Bamboo Curtain triticale, Schrene barley, and Hard Red Spring wheat. Soon our Kamut wheat will be up (assuming the mice don't get it - flat covers were not the priority they should have been) and heading into the soil.

We broadcast our grains into a flat, wait until they are up and around 2-3 inches tall, then transplant them on 5" centers - all 5 inches apart from their 6 neighbors. 225 sq ft of that is a big job early in the season, so we started at both ends and worked to the middle. That's what we're doing in this picture, Margo 8 months pregnant and baby wiggling all the way!

One of our big challenges right now is water. There is no electricity on site. There is open water a five minute walk away, but we would like something more accessible. Hmm... all of a sudden I feel like a real weenie.

Closer yet, there is an equipment shed with a vast roof and gutters with downspouts, and that is where I have fixed my eyes. We are really excited about a rainwater catchment workshop our local county soil and water conservation district is sponsoring, and we'll come out of that with some barrels and a clue. After that I'd love to figure out some kind of gravity-fed thing...

Today comes another first - potato planting! We got our stock this year from down the road, a huge local nursery operation. While we were tempted to order the organic ones in all manner of variety from Ronniger's in Colorado, we decided that postage would kick our butt. We'll save our own seed for next year.
Here's to months of dirty hands!

Cleansing Our Pallets, Part I

2010-04-14T10:52:00.000-07:00

As indicated in the previous post, we have a long list of things to accomplish to get our garden off the ground. Some of these are common springtime needs even in established gardens, but many fit under the category of infrastructure. Like flats. And this is the story of our (currently) fourteen flats.

Back in northern California we used redwood for our flat materials, both because it has great anti-rot qualities and was local. Here cedar is the equivalent, but both woods are a little too pricey for us. Not just because they are expensive, but because they cost money. You'll hear it from me often that time is a resource we have in abundance while money is much less so. Anything we can save money on by creating through time and/or expertise is a great opportunity.

Here's where a local business that we frequent comes in: at our inquiry they said they had broken pallets they didn't want, and that we would be welcome to take them away. (When we arrived it turned out they were happy to give us some unbroken ones as well!)

So with seven pallets, a circular saw, table saw, hammer, one pound box of nails, and some time we got fourteen flats, a bunch of broken pieces of wood, and the stringers with nails and things still in them. I went with half-flat sizes, as defined in How to Grow More Vegetables, with interior dimensions of 3 x 11½ x 14", since they are easier to carry and more versatile for us.

Initially I thought I wasn't going to have to buy nails, since those pallets have so many in them already, right? I'll just pull them out, straighten them, and reuse them, just like grandpa would have. This turned out to be much more work than it was worth. These nails are shot in with nail guns, are extremely hard to get out without breaking off their heads, and can't be nailed back in because they don't have sharpened tips. In the process I broke a number of good boards, which would have brought my flat total up to fifteen or sixteen, and got frustrated. I ended up writing off the nails and cutting right beside them with the circular saw.

The boards, of varying sizes and widths, were then all cut to 14" on the table saw (to make things easier). Most were about 3½" wide, so I ripped them all to that width. Then I went through to determine which boards would be best on the long sides of the flats (I used the thicker ones, since they would get all the nails pounded into them). The long side boards remained at 14" and the rest were cut to about 12¾" for the ends and bottoms of each flat. Then I stuck them all together and reveled in flats.

I was sitting there looking at all those stringers, thinking there had to be something useful to do with them. Then I realized that flatting tables would also be really handy, so flats could drain and be above chicken-head level. So after a little more experimentation I built some of those. Pictures to follow.

In the process I learned a few things. First, although I thought pallets were always made of cheap softwood, I found out that sometimes hardwood is cheap, too. It's hard to cut, and even harder to pound nails into when you aren't expecting it. But it looks respectable! Second, drilling pilot holes for nails takes some time, but is worth it when all of a sudden you aren't spending half your time pulling out bent nails. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I found out a bit of information on Wikipedia while trying to figure out what "stringers" were called. That is that sometimes pallets are fumigated with nasty things to keep them weather resistant. Honestly! Can't we have anything fun in life without threat of carcinogens? So my second set of pallet flats will probably be the last, at least until I know exactly where these pallets come from.

In the beginning there was detritus...

2010-04-06T04:53:00.000-07:00

And it was good. Margo and her Mom are in the midst of it.

The past week and a half I have been reminded about the practical advice often given for starting any project: make sure you have read the instructions, and assemble all tools and supplies beforehand.
I usually ignore that advice, often to my own frustration. A project will take twice, maybe three times as long, or maybe not get finished at all.
This time, too, we have failed to heed it, but for different reasons than the usual. First, there are no instructions on how to execute your own unique garden design on a unique piece of land in a unique stage of soil development. And second, some of the tools and supplies have not arrived yet or have not been chosen, and we still haven't figured out what some of them may be and where we will get them.

Let me give you an example of some of the difficulties we face. In order to plant our spring grains, which should go in asap, we need to flat them. But to flat them we need to build flats and make flat soil. But we don't have compost, and we haven't collected much bed soil because normally we'd do that while double digging, which is somewhat further down the list of current priorities. Once flatted they'll need some protection in flat covers or a cage, and a cold frame, which hasn't been built yet. Once they have made it to transplanting size the aforementioned bed preparation must be done, but in order to do that the corn stalks covering the garden must be pulled. Then the exact dimensions of the garden must be determined, calculations made, and beds marked out. But before planting, or very soon after, some kind of fencing needs to be established. Something around 8 feet high for deer and tight at the bottom for rabbits.
Then we'll have it made!

At different points we have looked at each other, with fatigue and stress, and reminded ourselves to have a good time. We are not only founding a garden, but setting the tone for our lifestyles in the coming years. If there is no productive reason to get antsy then we'd rather stay in a joyful and thankful state.

And we have made some great progress.

As of today we have 14 flats and a compost/bed-soil sifter built, we have marked out the bounds of the garden and the beds, and we have staked the fence corners (at right). Margo has planned out the flatting and planting schedule and garden rotation. We have continually been pulling flowering weeds, have pulled almost all of the corn stalks, and have begun a compost pile built of these two ingredients (at left). I would like to note here that the corn stalks are one of the blessings we have encountered. Remnants of the community garden that was cultivated in the same spot last year, they clear one of our big obstacles: what to do about a lack of mature compost material in our first spring.

Also worth noting is my desire to buy as little as possible. Friends have made generous contributions toward our startup costs, and we are interested in using those resources wisely and respectfully. There are things which must be bought, but there are also many things that can be created. Since we have plenty of time and relatively little money we will probably make a number of below-minimum-wage decisions in terms of dollar value per hour. We’ll find out how that goes for us, and put some posts up accordingly :)

Meanwhile, we have at least two other sets of friends creating brand-new gardens, one back in Willits and one on Orcas Island, so I think we're in great company.

Corn Cuandary

2010-03-30T06:48:00.000-07:00

A fellow gardener read my Golden Rule Garden post on corn pollination and asked my advice on her problem. I spent enough time on my response that I felt it should do double-duty as an email and a blog post. Her question is in italics, followed by my thoughts.

Hi! I am renting a house that is on the same property as my landlord's house. He has about 100 acres of land, which includes a river going through it, as well as a wetlands. Every year he has been using Roundup ready GMO corn, planting it to attract ducks and geese. Then his friends and their friends pay him a lot of money to come out and hunt on his land. My question is, what can I tell him about the impacts that GMO corn has on the bodies of the ducks and geese, and in turn, what impacts would this have on his body, as well as the bodies of his friends and their families? He wants an easy solution, with 'No weeds'... I also have a huge garden and made the mistake of planting heirloom green dent corn last year. I'm sure that the GMO pollen has traveled to my corn. So, should I eat it? (I dried it and ground some into flour.) Any direction you can point me to is greatly appreciated!

Besides the renting and the waterfowl our situation is very much like yours. In fact, your situation may be more hopeful. We are on family land, but all the fields around are planted with conventional practices, which are almost universally GMO. People who are staking their livelihoods on the outcome often rely on technology if they can afford to. You might be able to convince your landlord otherwise, but it sure is nice to think that you can plant what you want then douse the land in weedkiller. Round-up resistance is an easy and, in my opinion, a shortsighted choice.
There is so much evidence that supports either the safety or the danger of the use of GMOs that, no matter what you told your landlord, he could easily be convinced otherwise by contradictory research. You can probably tell from my tone how I feel about GMOs. They make me very uncomfortable. Kind of like nuclear weapons - I am told that they keep me safe, but I am skeptical.
Much more potent may be the question of what the effects of runoff from such a strong herbicide as Round-up might be having on the river, the wetlands, and the bodies of the ducks and geese. That is probably much better documented. If he is content with the current life in the wetlands he may not care, but, depending on how much distance there is between the fields and the water, I bet his agricultural practices have an impact.
It may be that he has found this model works very well for him, but if corn is just a means to the end of attracting more geese and ducks, I think he'd be better served by expanding the habitat. Look at all this advice he's getting without even needing to ask :)
As to your side of the issue, I'd say it's likely that your corn was cross-pollinated, but it depends on when yours and his were tasseling and receptive. Accounts vary on the distance corn pollen travels (somewhere between 1000 feet and 2 miles or more), but if the silks on yours weren't receptive when the tassels of his were shedding pollen then you would be safe from crossing. At least from his field.
And as far as eating it is concerned, I think I can truthfully say no research has been done on human consumption of GM corn, or GM/Heirloom hybrids. I think that it is important to note, too, that even if some crossing happened it isn't like every single kernel is a cross. Not that you could probably tell the difference... Anyway, there are plenty of reports that GM crops have found their way into the general food supply, so we are all probably in an inadvertent experiment.
But let's talk about happy things! Besides having a conversation with your landlord you could 1) try to find flour corn that will be shorter or longer-season than the neighboring conventionals or 2) start honing your hand-pollination skills. Doubtless there are many possible solutions.
Remember that even if your landlord wants to grow organic, heirloom varieties of corn, you'll still have crossing, though that is only a problem if you want to save seed.
I hope all this is helpful!

I'd welcome comments on this subject by anyone who has pertinent knowledge (or opinions), and would lastly like to share this link to an article by Reuters on a recent ruling against Monsanto's GM sugar beets.

New Beginnings

2010-03-23T09:07:00.000-07:00

This point in our life brings a cascade of newness springing from two sources: the completion of our time at Ecology Action, and the impending birth of our own child. The ultimate outcome of these transitions allows us the same degree of freedom that we had when we were married a little over five years ago: we find ourselves setting a new course for our lives.

In anticipation of a life together we found our combined vision was for an existence that emphasized simplicity and a degree of self-sufficiency blended with value of community. We decided, in light of that realization, that our first step should be to learn how to raise food for ourselves. That led to our 2005 internship on an organic farm under the tutelage of Steve Moore, a shining star in the small-scale farming firmament. He pointed us, at the end of our internship there, toward Ecology Action's three-year apprenticeship in the Grow Biointensive small-scale sustainable model of agriculture, which we applied for and were accepted to. Finishing the apprenticeship in early 2009, we stayed on for an additional season to learn more and help instruct the new apprentices and interns.

That's what our last transition led to.

Now, having spent five years learning the first aspect of simple living to which we aspired, and having come a long way in many other facets of self-sufficiency, we have the world open to us. I wonder what the next five years will bring.

The only surity is the baby, due in June, and the garden, which is due as soon as we get in the soil towards the end of this week. We expect both to be sources of joy and fatigue, and are as prepared as anyone can think they might be.

And, of course, all this change precipitates a new blog! The Golden Rule Garden blog goes marching on, with Ellen documenting the life and times there. I found it to be an excellent way of processing my own learning, then later a resource for others interested in the many aspects of Grow Biointensive practiced and taught in that setting. In this blog we'll talk about our garden, our teaching, and any creative projects that might be benefitted or benefit others by being aired out on the internet.

Don't worry about the color scheme - that will probably change. I enjoy posting photos, too, but we have no digital camera right now. So if anyone out there has an old one they don't want anymore, well, you know where to send it. Otherwise it will be a bit before pictures become a part of the blog.

There! The hardest part is the first post, and now we may commence blogging...