Update time?

Yep, I think it is. Funny thing is, it's only been a year since I posted. I could have sworn it was two. So, I guess I'm doing better than I thought.

Anyway, a lot has been going on these past couple years. And for some reason I just haven't been inspired to post. I love writing because it's a creative outlet and I like sharing my little corner of this existence with random people and loved ones, but sometimes the motivation is just not there. Which is fine. These things happen, and I'm not gonna fight it. Same thing has been happening with reading lately. I am typically a voracious reader, but for the past year or so, I just can't get through a book. Maybe my brain is dying.

Honestly though, I went through a rough patch and came out of it fine--and certainly changed. Last spring felt like a rebirth of sorts.

Since my last post, I've mostly been working at a farm a little west of Chicago. It's a farm only in the sense that a small part of what they do is grow some of the vegetables they sell, and people actually buy those veggies--so starved are folks in suburbia for fresh, local food that they'll buy anything marketed as local and green again and again. We'll just leave it there.

But the year was not a loss in any sense. I continued to learn what not to do, mostly, and I met a bunch of great people. My co-workers at the farm were so great, in fact, that two of them have become my business partners and we have started a farm together. And the rest are future partners, or lifelong friends at the least.

Our farm is about 50 miles south of Chicago. We're doing a CSA and growing crops for seed. At the same time I'll be the assistant manager at the previous farm I apprenticed at, Peasant's Plot. So, I'm going to be one busy bastard here shortly. It's already been busy coming up with the farm plan, acquiring the tools we need, and starting all these seeds. But April is going to be a whole different story, what with having to move and find a new vehicle on top of the season really beginning in earnest.

So, I don't know how much you'll be hearing from me on here, but I wanted to get an update in. The farm will have a blog, and maybe I'll provide the link for that. But I'd like to try posting a little more frequently here, if possible.

You thought I was gone!

Ha! And so did I. For a little bit.

But. I'm back. For maybe a little bit. Or a while. Who knows. But I'll try.

Quick summary for any stragglers: farmed again, just south of Chicago, with great folks (updated links coming soon). Lived in an RV with no water, no stove, and some electricity. Learned more about building, composting, manure management. Cut and planted and dug sooooo many potatoes, but I still love them. Summer squash can kiss my ass. I'm a new fan of the wheel hoe. Bees are fuckin crazy (when they swarm like three times in a single season, and they're right by the packing shed, right?). The Earthway "precision" seeder can still kiss my ass (but I can empathize with it a little more). I like soil blocks for seed starting. Kale might be my favorite crop to grow for sale (but come on America, when will you learn to love the kale?). Maybe this coming summer won't be as hot. This past fall and winter were something I might need about 12 beers and a half a pack of cigarettes to write about. Maybe I'll just skip the blog and go right to the novel for that one.

So guess what? I'm farming again this year. In the outskirts of the western Chicago suburbs. My long journey away from the suburban wasteland has brought me full circle. I still don't know how I feel about this situation, but I'm trying to embrace it. This is life. Or a life.

More later. 

Back to the Midwest

So, we're going to be rambling our way back to good ol' Illinois (which is where we're originally from, for any new readers out there), where we'll be apprenticing for another season on a diversified small farm. We decided that family and long-time friends were important to have near us (relatively) as we anticipate finding some land to settle down on for the long term. It'll be hard to give up my dream of living in the beautiful mountains of the Southeast. I mean, I really felt at home there, but some things are more important than other things. And at least I got a chance to be there for a time.

But first, I've gotta find a new car. My long-lived and trusty '98 Sephia was destroyed in an accident. Got a couple weeks to find a replacement and then head halfway across the country and move in to a new living space (which is going to be: a motor home of some small size, on a farm about an hour south of Chicago). We'll see how the cats like their new digs. Or, how we will, for that matter.

We can't wait to get dirty again.

This and that

Oh blog, how I've neglected you. Readers, if any of you are left out there, let me tell you that I've been living in a place with a virus-ridden computer, and, besides, I haven't been inspired much to write. We've been trimmin and cuttin down trees up in CT. Well, to be honest, we do the ground work while an experienced treeman (wife's uncle by marriage) does the rope climbing. There's lots of downtime otherwise, and I've been trying hard to find a place to relocate to come spring.

Connecticut is a nice place to visit. And Chicagoland, where I'm typing from now, is kind of an interesting visit, but not really, if I'm being honest about it. The former is way too steeped in the culture of money, and the latter is a contender for ground zero of the imminent destruction of suburban sprawl, happy motoring, and faceless centralization. So, you know, for me, lately, inspiration is hard to come by.

Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed a good bit of my time in Connecticut. Hanging with family, learning to butcher a deer, tinkering with cars, meeting some great people, seeing the ins and outs of tree care: all things I'm grateful for. And the Chicago area has my core family and lots of cherished friends.

But I feel better when I'm living purposefully, working the land, watching the clouds, helping the neighbor bale hay, laying on the ground, fishing the stream, kicking back with some tunes or a movie and a beer after busting my ass all day long.

I see winter gripping almost the entire nation right now. Up in the north we'll get our obligatory January thaw before the wrath of another cold spell. Then it'll turn again, and we'll have to start thinking seriously about planting somewhere. Got prospects back down in WNC right now, but nothing concrete.

Looking forward to it though.

The closing of another season

You see, for us, it's too easy. The past couple of years (and this one is playing out the same) we have finished up with the main tasks on the farm and have gone on with our lives. We've left behind many of the odds and ends that get done in the less busy times--all those chores you put off for one reason or another.

We take a few bagfuls of food and find other employment. Winter passes. Then spring comes and, voila! we're at the farm, and it's ready to go, all the little things taken care of. It's not how I want it to go down, but that's how life has played out so far. We're hoping that next year will end differently.

Yeah, it's hard leaving the farm. I need to be there to change the oil, care for the animals, chop more wood, start new projects. I need to be there to come up with next season's plan, buy seed, work around all the little obstacles that arise. But our country doesn't seem to really care about having small farmers (and stopped caring a long time ago), so we're learning the best we can.

All in all, it was a helluva season. So much rain, so many pests and plant pathogens. It really was educational.

The autumn colors were spectacular as they made their way down to our cove. Now it's mostly muted reds, browns, and yellows out there, which have their own beauty.

This week we pack up and move on out. We'll head up to the northeast where we'll work with trees and enjoy a little downtime with some family.

I'm going to miss these mountains while I'm away. And Asheville, too, because it's a great little city to visit a couple times a month. And there's the music, and all the trails, and the great food, and wonderful people. Shit, whatever happens, at least I got to live here and enjoy it all for awhile.

We hope to find some land--to own (somehow), lease long-term, as part of a partnership, or whatever, we're open to anything really--for next year. So, if you know anybody who wants to help out a couple of poor wannabe farmers/homesteaders with a place to settle, we'd love to hear from you (preference for southern Appalachia). If we can't make that happen, we'll be searching again for another apprenticeship opportunity, with an eye toward learning more about farming with animals, seed saving, and basic construction.

So, it's transition time. I'll be posting again soon, probably from a different location--with more random rambles though, less farm talk (for a couple months at least).

Chill

It has gotten a bit cold here. Smells like fall. One night we go from the fan sucking cool, sweet mountain air into our room, to the next night having the whole apartment closed down--us draped in sweaters, smothered nightly in a heavy comforter, me cursing my lack of a good pair of boots for farm work (thus relying on the old trusty sandals in the 40-degree dewy morning). But don't get me wrong, it feels good.

Basil and pepper plants are pissed. Basil hates the cold; sweet peppers also hate the deluge we've been getting of late. Even some of the lettuce, the cool-moisture lover that it is, is rotting in the field. But arugula is happy. Napas and bok choi are trying hard. Kale would probably be happy if not for the plague of harlequin bugs. But we can take heart that the flea beetles have seemingly left us for the year. And we haven't gotten flooded like some of our unfortunate WNC neighbors.

We've got a bit over a month left at this farm, where we'll keep tending our fall/winter crops for market and, most importantly, CSA members. It's a bit of an unwinding time, at least in my mind, despite all that's left to do.

In other news, the blueberries are still plentiful up on Max Patch, as of last weekend. We were picking amongst the roaring wind and the cries of the haint (or a flying kite; or a creaking tree--I'm not sure).

The near future brings visitors from afar and, maybe, if things fall right, a trip into the backcountry (our last camping excursion near Mt. Mitchell left us soaked, a couple additional inches of rain away from being devoured by a rising river, and within several hundred feet of being crushed by a toppled tree--which is what I call an adventure).

In the meantime I'll be happy to watch the trees slowly transform as the cold sets in and daylight contracts. Already we see the 4,000+ foot peaks that poke into the sky around our cove hueing toward orangish-yellow. The vegetation on the creek banks is thinning to the point where we can see the road again for the first time since May. The ragweed has pretty much done its thing (ahhhh... relief). Sumacs everywhere are blushing mightily.  They're calling for a less than stellar fall color show this year because of all the rain we've had. But I wouldn't heed what "they" say. Because, well, the spring leafing was beyond words, in it's spectacularly subtle green gradient, and hardly anyone even touches on how beautiful that is--ever.

How's fall on everyone else's land? Fruits and veggies still going by you?

It's August?

Time is certainly flying around here. You'll have to forgive me, friends, for not posting with any regularity. We've been busy. Those who farm and garden know that midsummer is about as hectic as it gets, with your heavy producers like tomatoes, squash and beans in full fruiting mode. And then there's the corn. Yeah, we're not in the greenhouse starting plants as much, or out in the fields putting in many new transplants, but we're picking like mad, and weeding, and dealing with the heavy harvests.

You'll be sad to know that our onions and garlic were devastated by all the spring rain, and we pretty much lost a good majority of the two crops. I mean, there's garlic and onions galore curing, but they look like little wrecked balls, most of which are unsuitable for selling. But it's a lesson learned. And hey, we're still providing plenty of other stuff for the CSA and making good sales at market. Gotta appreciate the crop diversity of small farms like ours.

On the other hand, our greenhouse-grown tomatoes are so prolific that we are having a hard time keeping up with them. Summer squash, which started out terribly in the wet weather is producing well. And green beans, the pain in the ass that they are to pick, love to fill up several bushel bins with each harvest. Our first crop of sweet corn was pretty damn good, too, despite the corn ear worm invasion. Luckily the folks at market mostly understand what it means to grow and eat things organically.

Elsewhere, we've been entertaining lots of visitors from out of state, which has been a pleasant surprise during our time here. We attended the fun Bele Chere in Asheville, where I drank plenty of local brews and enjoyed several bands I had never heard before. Spent some time exploring the Smokies, including a grueling hike up to the top of Mt. Sterling in my crappy sandals. We've visited several farms in the area, which has been a great educational experience. Started taking yoga once a week. And in our downtime we've been kicking back with some beers, enjoying these amazing mountains that surround our cove, watching the occasional movie, and reading some good books.

Yep. It looks to be busy for the next several weeks as well, with more visitors expected and the final big push to get fall crops in the ground and tended to. However, I'll try to be better about updating this thing.

Did I mention it's raining?

Yep, it's still raining. We're approaching 10" for the month, which is nearly a third of our yearly average. In one month. And last month was rainy too. And so was the previous month. Standing water in some of the fields. Lots of slugs. Temps this month have fluctuated from lows around freezing to highs in the low 80s, which has caused a bunch of our field crops to bolt and try to go to seed early, thus shortening their lifespan and ruining their quality in some cases. Affected: broccoli, arugula, radishes, cilantro, tatsoi, and probably some others I'm forgetting. The lack of sun has really slowed down our second succession of crops and stunted early planted peas, beets, turnips, strawberries, and spinach. On the other hand, we're producing monster heads of lettuce, beautiful mixed greens, vibrant rainbow chard, mustard greens, and kale. These things are loving the rain.

All our greenhouse crops are doing pretty good. Cukes are huge sellers at market, but they've reached their peak and are starting a downward trend. Eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes look promising.

New crops in the field: summer squash, parsley, basil, sweet corn, and flowers. Fruits are forming on the squash already. So far so good.

Potatoes and onions are looking healthy. Pests are up. Now seeing potato beetles and cucumber beetles out and about. Boo those.

It's busy at this point in the season. More to come soon.

It really begins

Things are really gaining steam on the farm as all the potential energy built during the last two months jolts into the kinetic. This weekend is a huge plant sale down in Waynesville; we are preparing for that. Our direct-seeded greenhouse is cranking out the greens (and completely unmanageable weeds). Most of the field crops are doing good, aside from the few that got decimated by flea beetles. Cukes in the greenhouse are huge, but the fruits are getting chomped on by some mysterious burrowing creature. It's hard keeping up with all the flats of seedlings sitting in the propagation greenhouse. We've had the local TV news out of Asheville out here to take moving pictures of the quaint farm life and ask why in the world some young folks would willingly spend their time learning to farm. The cameraman irked me.

Aside from all that, it looks like morel season is done here. We got several decent harvests though. The recent weather has been rainy again (so much for the beginnings of that supposed drought, huh?), but it was preceded by several days of really warm, dry weather, which was perfect for outdoors fun. We also had our first visitor from back home, so the past weekend was spent cruising the area. We got to see some spectacular things at Max Patch and Cataloochee and out exploring our own holler, and spent some quality time in Asheville.

Lately it's been hard for me to sit back and reflect enough to write a decent post or unload pictures from the camera. Got lots of good shots to share.

How's everyone out there?

A respite from rain?

It's been busy. I can't even remember what happened at the beginning of the week. We did have another snow scare, but it never actually fell. It only dropped to 35 last night, and now we're looking at several days in the mid- to upper-70s. Crazy mountain weather.

The last couple of dry (finally) days have been reserved mostly for bed prep and transplanting. We got lots of onions out and some mustard greens. Some beets and snow peas didn't germinate well, and the direct-seeded arugula in the field was destroyed by flea beetles, so we tilled all those in and we'll reseed them probably tomorrow. Since some of these crops were in partial beds, I had the opportunity to hone my skills at precision tilling on the tractor. It went ok, aside from one solitary plant casualty.

Tomorrow will probably bring lots of direct seeding, which we're behind on, and more transplanting (scallions and who knows what else). It's nice to finally have some dry weather.

This weekend is Trailfest in Hot Springs. Many of the Appalachian Trail hikers who do the whole thing (from Georgia to Maine) in one season make it to Hot Springs around this time. And they have to pass through the downtown, which is the first real population center they hit on the trail, so many of them pause here to stock up on provisions or catch a breather. Anyway, Meagan is gonna try to sling some of her jewerly as a vendor at the fest, and I'll be there for moral support.

More photos up soon, hopefully.

Edited to add: Oh yeah, bagged a whole bunch of morels yesterday. They might be peaking in our holler right about now. Also, the farm tour down in Saluda was cool. Met lots of nice folks from nearby farms and then had dinner and a couple brews at Asheville Pizza and Brewing Co. Good pizza; pretty good beer.

Iffy cukes

Those cucumbers we transplanted in the greenhouse beds had mixed fates: some are starting to grow boldly up the fence, but several quickly keeled over all limp-like and died. A sample a couple years back from this greenhouse revealed pythium in the soil, a hard-to-get-rid-of fungus-like organism that destroys the roots of plants. Further tests will reveal if it's still pythium. In the meantime, we'll see if some biological controls will give us the edge, and we're rooting for the survivors to stay strong.

Elsewhere, we did lots of transplanting in the field; several beds are now growing little greens. We cut potatoes to plant next week. Applied some fish emulsion to the strawberries, which are flowering and even setting berries already. And we keep potting up in the greenhouse.

And I need to point out that the flat seeder (the wand thing with all the needles) is not all I thought it could be. It is useless when seeding eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes (nightshades), and extremely aggravating when seeding little tiny seeds (flowers). With the nightshades, it can't pick up the large seeds. With the flowers it either sucks the seeds up into the needles, picks up too many seeds, or can't pick the seeds up (depending on which needles you use). But my fingers almost always work when it comes to seeding. Lesson learned.

This morning we're heading to town to run some errands. Then we're gonna hunt some morels and cook up some pizzas from scratch in an outdoor wood-fired pizza oven for a little get together. Somewhere in the mix of activities we might plant some hops. Mmm... hops.

Seeding "precisely"

Yesterday we spent most of our day out in the field direct seeding various greens and roots using what our neighbor over the mountain calls the "stupid fucking plastic thing." Yes, it is stupid, and plastic, and makes you want to fucking swear at it. And we enjoy it so much we had to add "piece of shit" to its name. This ain't an exact replica of our model, but here's what it pretty much looks like, courtesy of Tiny Farm Blog.

It seems it worked for Let It Grow this year, and Tiny Farm Blog finds it to be a good tool for the price, but here in our rocky soil, the Earthway was anything but precise. While I was fighting with it up the rows I multiple times mumbled angrily, "I"ll show you precision!" along with some random expletives. Beet and spinach seeds didn't really work with the provided plates for beet and spinach seeding. Any lingering cover crop or vegetative matter laying in the soil would get caught by the shoe and hinder the "precision" of my seeding. Sometimes seeds would drop out sporadically or in bunches. The thing has no heft, so it isn't really drivable in less than Plato's ideal of soil. I could go on.

But hey, it apparently worked well at the farm I was at last year (though I never got the opportunity to use it there). And really, it is in a price range all its own (less than $100 compared with $300). And I'm just a rookie with it, so I may not know what I'm talking about. Nonetheless, we're looking to find a different seeder.

In other news:

• you should see the rocks out here 
  
• put trellis up for the peas (seeding today)
• mid-60s here all this week
• the eggs are delicious and plentiful
• the brassicas we seeded in flats in the greenhouse are germinating nicely
• the greenhouse direct-seeded greens are germinating as well
  

We're here

Our new home is gorgeous. It's really unbelievable. The farmers we're learning from are amazing people. Pictures and other info to come soon.

Getting there

Well, we're almost moved out. There's about a carload (hopefully just one more) left of stuff to remove from the apartment, which I'll be doing tomorrow.

The last few days have been busy, and it doesn't look like it's letting up anytime soon. It might be that the next time I post, it will be from North Carolina. If you see some psycho driving an obviously undersized-for-the-task vehicle eastward on the highway with a beat up old car topper on the roof and something resembling a bike rack lashed to the trunk, you might want to keep your distance--ya know, just to be safe.

The home stretch

Moving time is approaching. This week is going to be unfun. We hope to have everything pretty much packed and done in the next seven or eight days or so.

I read No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy last week. Damn. Breezed through it in about two days. If you thought the movie was good, read the book. And I thought the movie was superb. But the book is even better (though they are pretty much true to the original in the movie, but you can't get it all on film). McCarthy has a way of expressing profound things without being preachy or one-sided. I mean, in general, it's pretty bleak with him (the novels set in the American West at least--I haven't gotten to his earlier works yet), but he always gives you a taste of hope somewhere along the line. But really, I think McCarthy is gifted like few others. You can read him and, if you have a bit of patience, you will find something that strikes you deeply, no matter your worldview. He's a living master.

In other news, packing sucks. I went through a box of stuff filled with crap from my youth and beyond. Bad poetry, old letters, random trinkets with vague significance. Funny: I found a high school report that I wrote on a typewriter. Damn, does that make me old, or what? Well, not really, and no offense to anyone else. But it's a revelation to me. A typewriter. I still remember typing on that thing, using those shitty little whiteout tabs to erase mistyped letters. Oh, delete key, how I love thee. But despite the shittyness of the stuff I found, I had a real hard time getting rid of most of it. The sentimental value of some things still holds strong. Even some of the garbage poetry: it reminds me of my disposition during those years of angst, and helps me remember how I got from there to here--which has some interest to me, though a significant part of me doubts it has any real personal value. But here it is, going back into the box, and I likely won't see it again until the next substantial move, which will be who knows when. Do I really need to recall the terrible poetry written in my freshman year of high school or even the terrible poetry written post-high school? Do I need to keep the letters I received from my first serious girlfriend? I don't know if I do. But I'm keeping them for now.

Moving makes you think; at least it's got that going for it.

Always a challenge

The warmth is dissipating.

In other news, I pulled my spark plugs today and one of them was just doused in oil. "Not good," I thought to myself. From what I gather, I have to replace the valve cover gasket. This will be a new project for me. Let's hope it goes well and solves my problem. But this discovery stopped me from changing the plugs, which in turn stopped me from changing the oil, rotating my tires, and performing other vehicle maintenance. However, I did replace our broke-ass toilet seat and put new wipers on my car. At least something got done.

Saw the movie W. this evening. Wasn't really impressed. I guess I'd call it so-so. The Washington Post (I think it was last year) did a much more interesting job with their fabulous reporting of the ins and outs of the Bush administration. And PBS had something similar (and equally as riveting) to the Post. Stone seemed really afraid to show us the finer details of Bush's early life in this movie, which is understandable, but it really made the film drag. Perhaps the movie industry should have waited about 10 or 20 years before tackling this project; then it could have been a bit more bold and confident in its final product.

Well, bed calls. Wish me luck so that I don't permanently damage my car tomorrow.

Warmth

Yesterday when I went outside I was quite stunned by the "heat" in the air. It was in the mid-30s. Today, I wake up and I see snow melting off the roof. Here it is, just before noon and it's in the lower 40s. The typical January thaw is a little late this year. Let's hope this year we skip the brutal cold spell that usually follows one of these thaws.

So today we're gonna really try to get things going over here on the moving front. Maybe put the old beat up recliner on the curb and pack up books and other little-used stuff. Or maybe I'll get under the car and do the oil change and remove that annoying heat shield that's sitting on my exhaust. Or perhaps I'll do both. But I figure this is the weekend to officially get under way, it being a little more than a month before moving day. Not looking forward to it, but this is not something to procrastinate. Right? Right.

Early spring this year

For us at least. Because it's finally official: we're moving to North Carolina in March. Wife and I will both be apprenticing on a farm not far from the Smokies and not far from Asheville. It's very rural (over-the-air TV is nonexistent, and I hear radio is hard to grab as well), but seems to be part of a great community. I'm pumped. We'll get to learn a lot and at the same time I'll finally get to know what it's like to wake up to mountains every single day. It's going to be quite an experiment; in other words, I'll get to see if I'm crazy for wanting to do this.

So, the next six weeks should be a bit nuts here. Got an apartment full of stuff to get rid of somehow and a whole bunch of crap to do to prepare for the move. You'll know why if I don't post much. But I hope to post a lot when we do get settled on the farm (we will have Internet access there) so I can try to document our experiences.

Relief

We survived the deep freeze. I think we got down to -30 one of those nights. They showed on the news that if you tossed boiling water into that air, much of it would instantly crystallize into ice particles. It was cold.

My car tolerated the awful weather until Thursday. Then it just cranked and really wanted to start. But it couldn't. No go on Friday either. I'll have to see if it'll come to life today, now that we will have "warmed" up to the teens above zero. But I'm proud it made it through a couple of subzero days.

It's sort of interesting coming out of a freeze like that here in central Wisconsin. Makes you think spring is on the way. All the sudden the 20s and 30s feel warm. You start to believe the air has that faint, sweet springtime smell. It's exciting. But we know better. January and February are typically the most brutal winter months. And March ain't much better. There is more to come. But the hint of spring is welcome.

Well, our future will be hinging on the next couple weeks. I know, things are always hinging, but now we're beginning to make plans to pack up our things and go. This will be a big change. We'll be applying for farm apprenticeships starting today. If all goes well, we could be waking up to a whole new existence in just two short months.

Break out the fleece

Chances are good that starting somewhere around midnight tonight we won't see temperatures above zero for about four days. Oh, I'm so excited. It probably means no car for me until Saturday, which, you know, has its pluses and minuses. Unless I pull the battery out. But methinks that's too much work.

Meantime, I'm getting sparse work here on the workfront. Which doesn't bode well for springtime plans. Working to correct that situation now, I hope.

Anyway, just a quick update tonight.