Potting

Learned how to make potting soil, which apparently most nurseries don't do. Of course, big corporate chain nurseries buy pre-made potting soil and even pre-potted plants. But Alison says you'd be surprised to find out that most small places don't take the time to make their own either. But whyyyy not when you get to hand-churn all the soil and manure and get your hands dirty? Needless to say, this was an exciting chore for me. Here's the beautiful finished product: Healthiest potting soil around.

The benefit of making your own (or buying plants from someone who makes their own) is that it's....well, alive. We used compost from the horses, which is about as fresh as it gets in terms of good poop. All those living organisms and good bacteria that breaks down nutrients into usable forms for the plants and aerates the soil.

Here's the recipe we use (for nonedibles)

2.5 gallons compost

2.5 gallons soil

1 (40lb) bag organic humus

1 (40lb) bag old potting mix

5 gallons peat moss

2.5 gallons vermiculite

2.5 gallons perlite

*Sift all ingredients individually over wheelbarrow, then use brute strength to hand-churn and mix all the layers. voila!

the sifter:

As for potting, Alison has a highly organized chart/list/book/anthology of everything she's planted by seed in soil blocks, the dates she planted them, the dates she potted them in past years, etc etc etc etc like a good farmer should.

Here are the little perennial seedlings in a flat with organized labels indicating their latin name, how many she planted, and how many germinated.

Then we pot them, make labels, and water them with the water in the rainwater cistern.

Then there are hundreds of them.

Planting, new strategies

Alison is teaching me a different method of transplanting than the one that I’m used to. It kind of goes against what I had previously thought was beneficial, but since she pollinates her own plants, saves her own seeds, grows everything from seed in a soil block, and has been doing this for many years, I’m trusting her.

First of all, since I've always been told that compacting the soil is bad (which it is - because you want aeration), I assumed that when transplanting, I should just kind of put the dirt on top of the soil block. But no - I learned to press rather firmly around the stem to ensure that the roots make contact with the new soil.

Next, I always tried to make the soil level even after I put the plant in. I thought trenches collect water, which will drown the plant. BUT, according to Alison, it's actually good to leave a trench, because newly planted plants need lots of food and water and love and affection so leaving a little dip around the plant will collect the water they need to grow.

We planted over 200 soil blocks Monday afternoon. We had a little system going: she measures the beds, makes holes in the soil to mark where each plant will go, and lays them out. I get the fun part – I dug and covered and pressed and trenched and, in my distaste for gloves, completed the task with caked dirt hands.

Lots of basil! thai basil, greek basil, lemon basil, holy basil

freshly planted baby herbs:

All that basil, we need some maters! The next day, the tomatoes went in.

I also learned trench planting which is good for "leggy" stems. Instead of digging a hole, you dig, well, a trench. Basically a hole with a little incline on the side. Lay the plant sideways instead of straight up, and cover the bottom half of the stem parallel to the ground, then pop the rest up above ground.

Vegetarian goes to the goat farm (RIP Pipp)

Tuesday goes down in the record book as the first time in two and a half years that I’ve eaten meat. More specifically, goat. More specifically, Pipp the goat. Had I arrived at Frosty Morning Farm a week earlier, I would have been lucky enough to meet Pipp. I was, however, graced with a package labeled “PIPP’S RUMP” and I feel as if I know him now, after Tuesday night’s Pipp curry.

So I filled my bowl with veggies and 2 pieces of meat – one of which I ended up putting in Karl’s bowl. Hey, I gave it a fair chance, and even ate a whole bowl full of veggies that were cooked in it. The meat was kind of tough, and I must say, lived up to Karin’s lovely description of goat meat: “it tastes like they smell.” She said this most affectionately, as she loves goats, their milk, and their meat. I mean, it wasn’t bad. I just….well, didn’t really want to swallow it. I did though, and you’ll be glad to hear I’m still alive and well. I couldn’t live on a goat farm without at least trying it. That’s what this summer is about anyway – spontaneity, trying new things, exploring different lifestyles….even if it means temporarily converting into a carnivore. And at least I can cross “owner of goat farm” off of my list of possible careers, right?

The reason I don’t eat meat is primarily due to the horrors of the industry…not necessarily the cuteness of the furry animals. So I accept and even endorse the way that the Frosts raise their own animals for consumption – no cruelty, injected hormones, or tightly packed cages. Just a way to eat in the winter, when the farm is covered in snow and no veggies remain. Having goats, rabbits, pigs, turkeys, ducks, and chickens allow them to store food efficiently. So thank you, Karl and Alison, for letting me try Pipp and introducing me to new methods of sustainability.

Why....?

I’ve met a lot of beautiful people this summer, especially in the past week while living on the Land Trust. Karin took me into Syracuse on Wednesday night and I got to hang out with her friends. In meeting and conversing with all of these strangers, I have shed light on something about myself. Something that I guess I’ve known all along, but was never really forced to verbalize, and therefore never could really pinpoint. The question I get from everyone I've met recently is, “Wait, so, why are you in a po-dunk town in the Middle Of Nowhere, New York, living in a tent, rolling in the dirt, working for free?” Pretty much verbatim, that’s how most people have asked it. Well, um, because it sounded like a good idea? I wanted to get away from the Alabama heat? A couple of days ago, though, Karin asked the question differently, and I was surprised by the clarity of my answer. She asked, “Why farming? Do you want to have your own farm one day? Are you pursuing agriculture as a career?” I said no, I like cities too much to own a farm. I’m not really an animal person. I want to be able to travel. I don’t want to work 7 days a week and never be able to retire. I’m seeing the reality of it all, and I don’t want to own a farm. So, why farming? My answer to Karin was, “Because I need to be able to grow my own food.” I was shocked at how directly and candidly I was able to answer, without really knowing the answer before it was out of my mouth.

So I’ve been thinking about that in the past few days – about how important it is to have a basic knowledge of where food comes from, what it looks like as a plant, what climate it grows in. It’s our food. As in, the most basic necessity for survival. People know the ends and outs of the economy - this invisible, manmade system - but have lost that fundamental intimacy of what they’re putting into their body in order to sustain life.

If anything happens to our nation’s system of commerce, our food supply would be completely eliminated. It sounds obvious, but we need food to survive. But we’re blinded to this fact by the lack of seasons in the grocery store. Nothing is local anymore, and people have completely lost connection with the food. I guess in a way, the pessimistic side of me is scared of something catastrophic happening (which, honestly, is highly probable when you do the math). And the other part of me just likes to play in the dirt. So that is my answer to this question that I will undoubtedly hear many more times in the next month. Because I need to know how to grow my own food.

Radishes!

Celebrate Everything, Waste Nothing

Greetings from Truxton, New York! I’m quite settled here, on my ninth day at Frosty Morning Farm, a 9-member CSA owned by Karl and Alison Frost. Now, let me assure you, my week-long blog hiatus does not reflect a lull in my work load or my education. I have been weeding and potting and planting and labeling and organizing and experimenting and observing and playing hard since I’ve been here, and my time on the internet has been sparse. Perhaps because they have dial-up, or perhaps because I’m so engulfed in the simplicity that Karl and Alison have created here, but either way, I’m on a self-proclaimed technology detox. A much needed one.

Karl and Alison live on the Common Place Land Trust, an intentional community made up of 15 households that follow basic principles reflecting a genuine love and understanding of the land, its natural cycles, and the ecosystem that they (we) are a part of. The people here at the land trust celebrate everything and waste nothing. (except for the jar of goat milk that Karl had to dispose of this morning because they don’t even have a refrigerator and the cooler wasn’t cold enough to fend off the summer heat. Wait. No. The chickens are now delighting in it, and their poop is composted and made into potting mix. See? Nothing goes to waste).

The composting toilets, specific sorting of trash (or, not trash), solar panels, minimal amount of artificial light, homemade soaps, rainwater-catching cistern, and endless piles of composts assures that nothing goes to waste and everything has a purpose. Even after its purpose is fulfilled and you think there is no possible way to keep recycling that damn milk jug that they didn’t even buy in the first place, it is once again recycled– aha! a scoop for making potting soil!

Oh, look at my bitty house. It's so cozy. I will be sad to part with it.

And now, an introduction and visual aid of the people I'm working with everyday here on the land trust:

Alison: owner of Frosty Morning Farm, singer/songwriter, perennial expert, planting machine, garden goddess

Karl: anti-fracking activist, cheese-maker, random knowledge provider, handyman, wants to retire and sit under the apple tree but can't because has the hardest working wife...ever.

Karin: goat enthusiast, pursuer of simplicity, hula-hoop master

Penelope: milk provider

I’ve learned so much in the past week – and not just about growing food. I’ve begun my schooling on perennials via Alison, watched Karl milk the goats to make cheese and yogurt, learned how to make kombucha, watched Karin and Jason brew beer for 14 hours one day, sampled Alison’s homemade wine, learned about the composting toilet system (first hand, of course), run a farmer’s market stand, been introduced to new vegetables and new ways of eating vegetables, learned how to make hula hoops, and the list goes on.

Onward!

Said my farewell to Turquoise Barn this morning, and am now moving west to Frosty Morning Farm. Look at the progress we've made in the past two weeks: (and really, it was only about one full week of work, as the last week was cold and rainy and not garden-conducive).

on May 25, when I arrived:

June 2, at the peak of our progress:

June 10, after all the rain:

All the seeds are in, the big weeds are out, and all that's left to be done is the mulching, trellis-making (wish I could be there for that), light weeding and basic maintenance. Hoorah! I think I'm going to stop by for a few days in the end of June so I can help out some more, see the progress, and share some of the ideas I learn at the other farm with Michelle.

But au revoir for now, T-Barn. I will miss you!

Corn Dispute

As Michelle and I were planting the corn, Narvin, one of their friends, came over to help Mike out with some car maintenance. He walked over to visit us in the garden and quickly scoffed at the distance at which we were planting the corn seeds. We were placing them about 5 inches apart, with two rows in the bed. He explained to us how the roots need room to breath, and shouldn't be planted that close together. We surrendered the remaining seeds and watched as Narvin finished the last ten feet of the bed. He planted each one at least a foot apart, and only in one row.

Michelle said that she has an organic gardening book with the philosophy of planting close together for the sake of obstructing weeds, and even cited the corn farmers in the midwest and the thousands of acres of corn that is certainly not spaced out (recognizing that this method is not sustainable for many other reasons). Her point being, that corn doesn't seem stifled. Narvin held his ground, as did Michelle. This argument will be resolved in a couple of months. The results of the corn harvest on either side of the bed (one being Narvin's corn and the other being Michelle's) will shed light on which method prevails.

And now, look at the pretty garlic!

And taters!

Transplanting

The past few days have been cold. As in, layer on the sweaters and gather wood for the fire cold. So we've been on a bit of a garden hiatus, but have managed to transplant some of the veggies that we've waited too late to plant by seed. Here's the master list of store-bought, transplanted veggies.

Heirloom tomatoes:

4 cherry

1 lemon boy

2 green zebras

1 brandywine

3 pink brandywine

1 delicious

1 cuor di bue

1 black tula

6 Scotch Bonnet Peppers

9 Serrano Peppers

4 Red Cabbage

4 Black Beauty Eggplants

21 Basil plants (2 different varieties)

black beauty eggplant:

lemon boy tomato:

thai basil:

As well as some marigolds, which serve as a natural pest control and add color to the garden.

And some self-seeded sunflowers that we moved to the back of the garden for their tall, flamboyant beauty. Here they are as youngins:

The key to transplanting is wait until the sun isn't at full-force, because it takes a lot of energy out of the plants to be uprooted and rerooted in their new home. Also, be sure to water them immediately. Early in the morning or late in the afternoon are good times to transplant. Or, when it's 50 degrees in June!

Raw Food Benefits (plus bonus brownie recipe!)

Going to digress from gardening for a bit, and tell a wonderful tale of raw food and the human body. Meet Zoë, the newest addition to Turquoise Barn. The past year of continuous illness and the recent diagnosis of Diabetes prompted Zoë to quit her publishing job in London and seek a change in her lifestyle. So here she is - keeping me company, helping out with chores, and learning about the beauty of living foods via Michelle.

The second night she was here, Michelle showed her (us) this movie - "Simply Raw: Reversing Diabetes in 30 Days," which illustrates the unhealthy lifestyles of 6 Americans, all with diabetes, and all taking a cocktail of medication at every meal. The film documents their month-long stay at a raw foods resort in Arizona, where they were provided with three meals a day, buffet-style, with all the gourmet raw food you could imagine. It was amazing to see the transformation - within THREE days, 5 of them stopped taking their insulin, and within two weeks, all of them were off all of their medication. Amazing. But it's a movie, right? Simple solutions like ....dare I say changing your diet, wouldn't miraculously heal an incurable illness like Type 1 Diabetes in real life, would it?

below: Michelle's raw pizza straight out of the dehydrator.

olives... tomatoes... zucchini... squash... broccoli... garlic... capers... pesto

atop a buckwheat, flax seed, sun dried tomato, and fresh herb crust

With that said, I don't believe that a strictly raw diet is ideal. Our bodies have evolved to digest cooked foods, and some food only releases its beneficial nutrients when heated. But living with Michelle has put me at an advantage: I get to indulge in her gourmet raw food creations, I feel more in touch with my body's reaction to food, and I get to choose what I take away from the experience. And I think I'll keep my oven and stove...and dare I saw microwave. But I'll also be toting home her green smoothie recipes and a newfound love for chia seeds, nutritional yeast, and dehydrated kale chips.

So, here's a recipe for raw brownies, which I've delighted in on three different occasions during the two weeks I've been here. They're easier, quicker, and healthier than regular brownies, and might I add...more delicious. Topped with a raspberry/blueberry sauce and accompanied by a cold class of homemade almond milk.

1 cup nuts (we used half almonds, half walnuts)

1 cup dates, chopped

1/4 cup cacao powder (or half cacao powder, half carob powder)

dash of vanilla

dash of salt

*Put all ingredients in the food processor and pulse away! The result may be a bit crumbly, depending on what kind of nuts you use. Put in a small pan and sort of smash with a spatula as you pour it in. Refrigerate for an hour or so to let it settle. Or, be impatient and eat immediately. If you want to go allllll out, which I recommend, prepare the sauce as well - just blueberries, raspberries (or your favorite kind of berries), and a bit of honey in the food processor or blender. Huzzah!

Nettles. Stinging Nettles!

On the walk from the house to the garden, there is a patch of unkept shrubbery, weeds, and insects. In this mild forrest live the legendary stinging nettles, a wild edible that you must wear gloves to touch. Well, we've been experimenting with the little devils, and low and behold...... have found a way to EAT them and all their stinging glory. Allow me to explain.

Michelle and I gear up in pants and boots to protect our legs, and bravely trample through the nettles, cutting them about six inches from the top (to ensure that they are cut enough so that they don't flower, but not too much so that they grow back and Turquoise Barn may delight in the stinging nettles in the future)

Back in the kitchen, and still sporting gloves, we detach the leaves from the stem, separating the larger ones from the smaller ones at the top. The larger ones are more bitter, and are best used as tea. So we use the smaller leaves to concoct a delicious green smoothie for a mid-morning snack. What happened to the stinging part of the stinging nettles, you say? Well, I don't know. I could kind of feel a strange tingling on my tongue and in the back of my throat while drinking the smoothie, so I guess that's what happened to them. But nothing to deter anyone from trying this delicious, nutritious, wild edible!
Michelle then puts the larger leaves in her fancy, raw foodist's necessity, the dehydrator, for a few hours. And the results: no-longer-stinging stinging nettles!

Ah, a pot of nettles tea. Mixed with a little mint from the herb garden. Hot. or iced. Sweet. or Unsweet. And made with love!

Truckin' Along

Still working, preparing more beds, watering, fertilizing, dancing, etc.

above: Miguel is the official garden entertainer

below: Mike is sort of an elusive creature here at Turquoise Barn. He's never too far away, but never around when you really need him. And seriously, never stops working.

I get really obsessive about getting every single root and every single rock out of the beds. Of course it's unrealistic, but it's like therapy for me...and oh so satisfying when I fork through the soil, hit a vine, and start pulling and pulling and pulling until finally I hear that crisp little pop and up comes the root. They have to basically pry me away and force a handful of seeds in my hand to plant. I'm an addict.

Time to Plant!

Finally! I am able to see some progression after all that heavy weeding. I prepared the beds while Michelle organized all the seeds and planned the layout of veggies and flowers in the garden. Prepping the beds consists of digging with the forked hand tool to make sure all of the roots and big rocks are out, then spreading what's left of the compost onto the bed, then digging rows in accordance to what we're planting.

Below is Mike - using his brute strength to pull up the remainder of the big weeds. Michelle - making a row. And I - hauling compost into the wheelbarrow and scattering it on the beds. Teamwork!

Planning what to plant and where to plant it gets quite tedious and technical. This task is left to Michelle, as she has more expertise than I when it comes to determining what plants are deep rooted, which ones need more water, which are better in duos or trios, which are NOT companion crops, which ones need the better soil, where things were planted last year, the path of the sun, harvest time, etc. It's like a complex mathematical equation, and at times contributes a bit more stress into gardening than it should. It's definitely a process, and she's kind of mapping it out as she goes along instead of having a precise diagram. I like this - it makes for a more malleable plan, one in which I can contribute my two cents and feel more a part of. And she literally thinks out loud when considering all the factors, which allows me to take plenty of notes!

Here are two little Edamame seeds before they were covered:

Aha, a product of our labor - 18 rows of veggies, all marked at each end with a flat stone:

This is just one section - the two of us planted about four more beds this size in less than two days. And still much more to do!

This is what we planted on Tuesday, June 1:

Chinese Red Noodle Beans - 1.25 rows

Tavern Snap Beans - 1/2 row

Soya Envy Edamame - 1/2 row

Detroit Red Beets - 12 rows

Kohlrabi - 1 row

Demourges Braun Romaine Lettuce

Rouge Lettuce

Paris Island Cos Lettuce

Kale - 5 rows

Carrots - 4 sections (red, orange, purple, yellow)

transplanted sunflowers

We planted the lettuce around the self-seeded sunflowers that are sporadically popping up from last year. This is a good example of Michelle's innovative thought processes - instead of building something to accommodate to the lettuce's preference of shade, she thought about the existing conditions, and now the lettuce can grow under the shade of the tall sunflowers. Genius!

Also, the kohlrabi and beets are next to each other and are great companion plants!

Here's what we planted on Wednesday, June 2:

Soya Envy Edamame - 2 more rows

Nasturtium in between the Edamame

Parsley - 4 rows

English Cucumbers - 3 small rows

Pickling Cucumber - 1 small patch

Parsley - 1 bed (in cold frame)

Carrots - 3 sections (purple, red, yellow)

The carrots and lettuce are the only ones that aren't planted in organized rows, but instead "broadcasted," which entails scattering them on top of the prepared bed, then barely covering them up with your hands. Then water, water, water, water, water the dry rocky Catskill soil.

Bean Seedlings

Nothing could make me happier than a giant bowl o' beans. Seriously. So as a homage to my love of beans, I planted these baby bean seedlings with extra care.

Chives

We had a beautiful dinner last night - and atop the giant salad (made with 100% garden greens) lie three purple flowers that I assumed were for decoration purposes only. And although I've never understood the purpose of non-edible garnishes, I excused this particular purple trio because of its simple eloquence. BUT WAIT, all of a sudden, one of the guests popped the thing into her mouth! It's a chive...how did I not know this before? So I did the same, and was shocked at the amount of flavor that was loaded into that one little flower. Tasted like... chives! And cleared my sinuses! And looked beautiful!

Non-Chemical Fertilizer

As you know, the concept of "organic" utilizes natural systems and rejects the use of synthetic chemicals. In terms of fertilizers, compost is the most ideal way to ensure a healthy, nutritious soil for healthy, nutritious plants for a healthy, nutritious, chemical-free self. (I will do a compost post soon!)

However, Michelle and Mike's compost did not receive the attention it deserved due to the demands of the newly established B&B. But not to worry! Neptune's Harvest Organic Fertilizer has saved the day. or, the entire season.

The fertilizer needs to be diluted - 1 oz per gallon of water. But look at this handy gadget that attaches to the hose and has a measurement dial for diluting! Nifty!

I was in charge of spraying it on the beds today, and now my hands smell like I've been handling dead fish...mmm! Oh wait, could that be because the stuff is made from, according to the bottle, "fresh North Atlantic fish"? It contains a fish/seaweed mixture that, aside from smelling completely horrid, increases plant strength and resistence to unfavorable environmental conditions, like frosts or not enough moisture (which are two concerns in the Catskills). Like I said earlier, compost is ideal, but in terms of fertilizer, look for one labeled "organic" and you'll be sure to avoid harmful synthetic chemicals.

Apologies, this is the only documentation I have of the fertilizer, because when I finished spraying, I made a beeline to the shower.

Other, more sustainable ways to increase the health of soil is to plan ahead what you're going to plant in each bed - and rotate your crops every season. There are also certain crops that enhance soil quality. For instance, if you have a newly established, rocky, sandy, shallow bed, beans are good seeds to plant because they add nitrogen to the soil. Gardening is largely experimental...ya gotta learn as ya go!