How to Grow More Vegetables, 8th Edition

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.

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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

The Perfect Shoes

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

Adventures in Solar Cookery

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

The Multi-Purpose Mill

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

Measuring Up

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

The Daily Grind

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

The Newest and Hottest

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

It's Been Hot

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...

Another Glorious Tool

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.

First Fruits (and vegetables)

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

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...