or, why I suddenly had to have a raised bed for asparagus and strawberries.
If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, by Laura Numeroff, was a common bedtime story in our home when my boys were toddlers. It tells of a mouse who, when given a cookie, then asks for milk, a straw, and a series of other actions by his boy. In a similar way, a gifted rhubarb plant set off a chain of events on Fiat Farm.
If you give a friend a rhubarb plant, she will want a permanent garden bed to grow it in.
When she decides to build a garden bed, she just has to grow asparagus in it.
Then she goes to buy asparagus online and sees that bare-root strawberries are on sale and needs to buy some of those as well.
Waiting for the plants to arrive, she puts her husband and son to work building the raised bed and filling it with compost.
Seeing how easy that was, she decides to add more raised beds to her garden.
And isn’t that exactly how so many projects start.
I am grateful for the rhubarb and also the prompting to add asparagus. Both are perennial vegetables that are ready to harvest in early spring. As a perennial plant they will produce year after year with a little love and attention on my part.
Like most perennials they will take a few years to establish. I look forward to this reward.
Strawberries are good companion plants for asparagus and are also one of the first plants to bear fruit in the spring.
I placed my raised bed close to the house at the top of a slope, because our winter rains showed me that my summer garden space gets flooded and muddy in the winter.
Plan for the future. Observe your space. Keep busy.
Chicken tractor on what? Steroids. Yep. That’s right.
This system takes all the composting power of chickens and multiplies it.
Let’s back up a bit.
A chicken tractor is basically a mobile chicken coop that can be moved around your yard keeping the chickens safe and contained while giving them fresh grass and fertilizing the soil.
Karl Hammer of Vermont Compost Company developed a system to feed over 600 chickens with food waste collected from local businesses. The chickens live off this waste, fertilize it, and break it down into a rich compost that gets sold to local gardeners. (This video shows how he does it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWChH9MHkHg)
Permaculture expert Geoff Lawton combined these two concepts to create the chicken tractor on steroids. For us it is a system that supplements our chicken’s food while providing us with compost.
Let’s take a look:
This mobile coop can hold up to 35 chickens. It provides a safe spot to sleep at night, shade and protection underneath during the day, and has 4 nesting boxes for laying hens. The large wheels and handlebar make it movable over uneven terrain. We got plans for this tractor (aka Chickshaw) from Justin Rhodes at Abundant Permaculture.
Like any compost pile you need to add carbon and nitrogen. We used chicken bedding, straw from the pig pen, leaves, cow manure, and grass clippings. These elements are contained in a ring made of hardware cloth. We put the chicken’s food on top of the compost pile. The chickens eat their food, scratch at the compost and add their own manure.
When the ring of compost is full you start a new ring and turn the original compost. The original compost has begun to break down and is filled with microbial life that supplements the feed we give the chickens. The piles are turned weekly (or bi-weekly like we did) and in about a month become compost that can be added to the garden.
My original pile has given me four wheelbarrows of compost with several more to rake up. Working with the chickens this way will give us a continuous supply of compost from the waste generated on our property. This system really works!
Well, actually, Mr. J tilled my soil; but the deed was still done.
I know. I know. I said I wouldn’t.
I have pontificated time and again on how no-till is the method to use. How tilling kills all the beneficial life in the soil. I have said that I would use a no-dig approach to my garden.
Then I ran out of time.
I spent the past two weeks weeding, spading, and raking by hand. I have planted my seedlings along the way. But this made a very small dent in the seedlings that needed planting and the soil that needed preparing. I looked at the amount of over-grown garden remaining, mentally listed all the plants and seeds left to be planted and concluded there was no way I could get it all done in time.
NOW is the time to plant all the things. The only way to get it all done is to till. And so, I tilled.
There. I said it. Now you know.
I am quickly learning that I can have all these grand ideas and ideals, but I am often short on the time and resources necessary to make them happen. I must adapt. Roll with the punches and move on.
But can I tell you how nice it is to till? The soil preparation that would have taken several days took just a few hours. I was able to get over 20 tomatoes and 16 tomatillos in the ground in no time. I am amending with kelp, rock phosphate, and pelleted chicken manure. I will add compost as I am able. I will build the soil with organic matter so that next year I won’t have to till.
Unless I do. And then I will.
There are blessing in all things.
I borrowed the tiller from a church friend. When I picked it up, she asked if I needed garlic.
“Yes, I would love some garlic!”
How about mint, do you like this Amish mint?
“Yes, I would love some mint!”
Do you like rhubarb?
“I don’t know, but I can learn to cook with rhubarb.”
All the while she was breaking off fresh asparagus for me to munch on. This is what I want to be when I grow up. Homestead goals.
Do you have enough eggs?
Yes, we have enough eggs.”
Here, take two dozen home with you.
I dream of have such established abundance that I can share with a new farmer to her get started.
Until then, I am off to plant seeds in my freshly tilled soil.
It was time to move the pigs. There was much planning. Discussions of how, when, and where. Sketches on a notepad. And waiting for some reinforcements. It felt a bit like a military operation. Moving the pigs is a process.
We forage our pigs and during the winter we would bring them back to the stall at night, making it easy to move the electric fencing to new areas. But the stall needed to be cleaned out, the weather was warming up, and it was time to begin keeping our Large Blacks out in the woods.
Keeping them in the woods makes our day a little easier but makes moving their fence a challenge. How do we keep them contained and occupied while we shift the fence to a new area? We had been working on this for the past week. Firstly, food is involved. The plan was to keep them occupied with breakfast in one spot while we moved the fence around them. A good plan until one of the big girls snuck outside the fencing and went back to their stall. Not ideal, but it could be worse. We locked her in the stall and brought back extra food to keep the remaining three occupied. When the fence was set up, we brought our escapee back and gave still more food to everyone.
After three days of pig camping, it was time to move them again. We decided to bring them back to the stall, feed them there, move the fence while they were secure, and then bring them back to their campsite. This worked perfectly but was not ideal because we wanted to use the stall for other animals and keep the pigs in the field full-time. Additionally, we were relocating them half-way across the property to an area we need cleared for a new fence line. This would involve a pig procession.
We needed a plan.
After some complex communication, Mr. J and I had a clear-cut plan. We set up an extra length of fence in the new area, making an enclosed paddock. The pigs would be moved and kept there (with food, naturally) while the rest of the fencing was shifted from the old location to the new one. We waited for our oldest son and daughter-in-law to return from a visit with grandpa. This was all-hands on deck. The “kids” arrived, we laid out the plan, and got to work. The girls walk the pigs across the pasture while the guys move the fencing and water.
Ready, set, go.
It was quite the parade. Two girls shaking containers of cracked corn calling “pig, pig” followed by four pigs wondering when they would get their treat. At times, the pigs are like cats crisscrossing in front of you and you have to keep a close eye on everyone all at once. But we plodded along and made it successfully to their new paddock. Meanwhile, the guys worked quickly to move the remaining fence and set up their portable shelter.
Walking those pigs across that field makes me ridiculously happy. I have them trained; I know that we are giving them the best life. And it worked without a hitch! I love it when a plan comes together. Especially, when we often find ourselves saying, “well, that wasn’t the plan.”
My potatoes are going gangbusters. And this makes me ridiculously happy.
I wrote earlier about my foray into potato growing. (You can read about it here) I had no idea if my little experiment would work. In my enthusiasm I planted them entirely too early. With the snow and freezes that followed my initial planting I feared that they would just rot in place, and I would have a potato farming failure.
Then I saw them popping through their mulch of aged horse manure and straw. I covered them with more manure and straw. It rained. They popped through again. Now every time I am in the garden, I look at the potato patch and am amazed by its growth. All I am doing is covering with aged compost and they continue to thrive. I LOVE this. I am a simple woman, and stuff like this makes me ridiculously happy.
Living life on the edge, some hope, and lots of work
In my eagerness and optimism, I started my tomato seeds entirely too early. Currently they are long, leggy and ready to bust out of their Solo cups.
I have been checking our weather forecasts frequently. Trying to navigate our final frost. There is rain heading our way and I want to plant before it hits.
Feeling optimistic (and having a plan to cover my tomatoes on chilly nights) I decided to get some plants in the ground today.
If only it were as simple as digging a whole. There is much more involved with this previously tilled garden and clay soil.
Preparing the Soil
I loosened the clay with a pitchfork, pulling weeds along the way. Then I raked in kelp meal, rock phosphate, and pelleted chicken manure. This will add minerals and nutrients to the soil.
I added an aspirin and some Epsom salts to each tomato hole. You can read more about the benefits of these HERE and HERE.
The soil is depleted so I am doing all I can to give my plants and strong start.
It felt good to work in the ground and get started with this growing season.
My oldest son was helping me in the garden and asked where I planted my 25lbs of potatoes. I walked him over to the spot and discovered potato plants popping up.
It worked! They are growing. Now I will need to add more aged straw with horse manure later this week to cover these sprouts. I will also need to keep the weeds at bay, so they don’t overtake my potato plants. But these green leaves have given me some hope.
More Work to Do
And then I turn around and see all the weeds that will need to be addressed before the rest of the garden gets put in.
I could use a tiller, but I am aiming for the least disturbance of the soil that I can manage. Whenever I have pulled weeds, I have found tons of worms and I would hate to lose them to some aggressive tilling.
A garden is hope and promise and lots of hard work. It is worth it.
We have a goal of raising as much of our food as possible. Being responsible for that food from start to finish. That means providing our animals with the healthiest life possible, and the most respectful death we can give them.
We have purchased dozens of chicks to raise for meat and eggs. I acquired all the tools necessary for butchering in anticipation of that day.
The day came sooner than expected with a sickly hen that was not getting better. Today was the day. We decided to use this hen as a practice and added an extra rooster to the process.
Our original plan for the day was to take down some old fencing, but this sickly chicken became the priority, and all resources were directed towards the effort.
Mr. J unboxed and assembled the chicken plucker. Our middle son nailed the kill cone to the tree and set up our workspace. I cleaned containers, heated water for scalding, and provided ice water for rinsing. I also collected the chickens.
I must say, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I had mentally prepared myself for this day. And it certainly helped that I started roasting whole chickens several years ago. There was a time when I was squeamish around a chicken carcass from the store. Not anymore.
We will make use of every part of those chickens. Nothing will go to waste. The sickly chicken (probably injured, not diseased) ended up in the compost pile We did not want to risk making any other animal sick. The rooster was butchered. The dogs will get the carcass, feet, and organs. The pigs will be offered the intestines and other bits. The water we used to rinse and clean was poured on the plants in the hoop house. The feathers have been tossed in the pig pen. If the pigs don’t eat them, they will end up in the compost.
We need to work on technique. But this is a start. You have to start somewhere.
If you want to grow your own food, you need to do the work. From start to finish. Life to death.
Our mornings start with a sprint as we take care of the animals and end with a whimper as we make our way upstairs to sleep. With the arrival of spring there is so much to be done. The days are longer, the weather is more enjoyable, and the time to plant looms.
Establishing the garden
The challenge of a new garden is real. I have to learn the seasons of this new home. I have to prepare my beds – weeding and planning for little seedlings and tiny seeds. Where should each main crop go and what companion plants should I plant nearby. Putting up a fence to keep the livestock and dogs out. Creating something from nothing. I am overwhelmed with the barren aspect of this space but look forward to creating a place of abundance.
All this takes time
When I began to garden years ago, I learned quickly that most plants need at least two months before you can harvest any food. That is assuming your crop survives storms, drought, bugs, and other creatures that want to partake of your hard work. This is not an easy feat and any harvest at all should be celebrated.
This is important because if you think you may want to grow your own food in the future you need to start NOW. You need to practice. You need to fail. You need to learn what works. What you love to eat now and what you can preserve for the future.
I feel compelled to grow as much food as possible. For our table, for our health, and to bless others.
I feel compelled to suggest that you grow as much food as you can this summer. Maybe it is a tomato plant in a pot on your patio. Some green beans against the side of your house. Or filling those raised beds you haven’t found time for in previous years.
Grow something. Practice. Fail. Learn. And celebrate your harvest. Bless others with your abundance.
This area of Tennesse is known for its waterfalls. I had no idea I would have one in my home.
Let me back up a bit. Two weeks ago, I had a prompting to start tackling some of the bigger projects on the homestead. This means calling in contractors and shelling out substantial amounts of money. Mr. J is handy, but he is not replacing the roof handy. Time to bring in the big guns.
Our home has a metal roof that looks a bit like a patchwork quilt. I don’t know much about metal roofs, but I’m pretty sure that is not a good sign. The roofer confirmed it. He also found an area of the roof that had several inches of standing water and no slope to drain it. He promised to fix this issue when the roof is replaced…two weeks from now.
We weren’t too concerned, because while the house has several leaks there were none in that area…until early Saturday when we were hit with 6 inches of snow and below freezing temperatures.
The dam broke loose. Our son woke to water dripping on his bed at 6:30am and our day began.
Handy Mr. J overcame bitter cold and fear as he climbed the ladder again and again to try to scoop water off the roof with a squeegee on a long pole. On the inside, I was adjusting buckets and sopping water with towels.
Our outlook improved as the drips appeared to stop, but that was really just the water turning to ice as the temperatures dipped into the low teens.
This morning’s bright sun turned that around and we looked into our son’s room to find this…
Honestly, after a while, you take inside waterfalls in stride. It makes you take a good look at the dust bunnies on the floor and provides plenty of water to wipe them up with.
When outside water comes in, use it as an opportunity to clean the floor.
And did I mention we have guests arriving this afternoon? And before heading to church this morning Mr. J found a leak in our hot water heater?
Taking it in stride my friends. God allows these challenges to both humble and strengthen us.
The seed potatoes arrived at my feed store a few weeks ago. Oh. I hadn’t considered potatoes. But here they are stacked on a pallet in burlap bags. Tempting me.
I ask how much they are. “Fifty pounds for twenty dollars.”
That’s a deal. But fifty pounds. Ugh there is no way I can get that whole bag planted this year.
“They are Yukon gold.” Oh! Those are the ones we use all the time.
The cashier could see my inner dialogue and suggested “We can give you twenty-five pounds for ten dollars.”
Well, that is certainly more manageable and who can pass up a deal like that. So, I walked out the door with twenty-five pounds of potatoes in my arms.
This was my weekend to get them in the ground. This past week we had a false spring with temperatures in the seventies, but another rainstorm is coming so I felt the push to get these in the ground.
I had a spot selected. I researched growing potatoes and decided on a method. I did a modified no-dig style. We have clay soil. I decided to lay a row of cardboard and woodchips to separate my two 30-foot rows. I then weeded and gently forked either side of the wood chips to loosen the soil a bit. I spaced the potatoes about one foot apart in the row. Next, I dug a shallow divot to nestle each potato into. Finally, I covered the potatoes with aged horse manure from the barn.
I did not “chit” the potatoes – cut them into smaller pieces. I really had more potatoes than I had space, so I just kept them whole. As the potatoes grow, I will continue to cover them with straw that has been used as animal bedding. With luck we will have home grown spuds in our future.
I love growing my own onions. I purchase onion starts from Dixondale Farms and until now have been limited to purchasing the short-day varieties. These are onions that are grown over the winter months in mild climates.
But now we are in the northern part of Tennessee. We are geographically suited for the intermediate-day onions. But we are very close to the zones for short-day and long-day varieties. The long day varieties store the longest and the short-day varieties are ready soonest. So, I decided to experiment. I got some of each variety. In fact, I got a bunch of yellow, white, and red onions for each of the varieties. Dixondale promotes that a bunch will contain at least 50 onion starts. I find that they usually contain closer to 70.
When I did a final count, I planted close to 1000 onions over the past three days. I have the aching back to prove it.
The spot I chose for the onions measures approximately 5 feet by 60 feet. Several months ago we laid down cardboard, leaves and some horse manure. I topped this with 25 bags of composted cow manure, so I had soil to plant the onions into. I plant my onions approximately 4 inches apart. I use my fist to measure this distance. I scattered straw over the top to retain moisture and help protect these little guys from frost.
As I walked up to the post office today, I spotted a dandelion that had grown up out of a tiny crack in the cement. There was no soil to be seen, but this flower reached for the sun and spread itself out over the barren concrete. It bloomed and provided seeds for future dandelions. I encourage you to be the dandelion where you are. Reach for the Son, thrive where you are, and bear fruit.
I suppose most people think of dandelions as weeds. I happen to know that they are one of God’s gifts. I am always excited to see them after a good rain and some sunshine. Then I know it is time to forage the flowers to make dandelion oil.
Dandelion is one of the first plants that introduced me to the healing properties of the plants around us. My first exposure to practical herbalism.
These simple flowers are known to reduce inflammation among other things. When the flowers are covered in oil and warmed the oil becomes infused with this anti-inflammatory property.
Several years ago, when I first read online about making dandelion oil, I thought “I can do that.” I kept my eyes peeled as I drove my boys to and from soccer practices. I found a bonanza at one of their soccer fields. I was thrilled to learn that this was also a “no pesticide” park. I happily filled my grocery bag with dandelions during my son’s practice while the other parents looked at me out of the corner of their eyes and surely thought I was nuts.
I took the flowers home and let them air dry overnight. The next morning, I put them in a glass jar, covered them with olive oil, and placed the jar in a sunny window. This step allows the sun to warm the oil and the warm oil pulls out the goodness of the flower. After a few weeks the oil is ready to be used. It can be used as is or turned into a salve. I use dandelion oil and a few other ingredients to make a salve I call Lion Balm. We use it on sore muscles, bruises, aches and pains.
I make this salve every year.
This week I found dandelions in my yard. Yay! I am so excited. But I am not going to pick these first flowers. Instead, I will let them go to seed in the hopes of multiplying my dandelion plants in the future.
Yep, I am that crazy person that cultivates dandelions.
I encourage you to look around for dandelions in your yard or neighborhood. Maybe, do some foraging and make your own dandelion oil. It is an easy first step towards learning more about the herbal gifts God has blessed us with.
About two months ago, I purchased a flock of chickens from a family that was downsizing in preparation for a move. This flock of birds came with two ducks. I was told their names are Minnie and Daisy. I asked if the ducks laid eggs. The owner replied, “Once and it was really good.” Hmmmm.
Well, it looks like I got a pair of pet ducks. Ideally, all our animals on the farm have a role to play, I am not really interested in feeding a bunch of freeloaders. We will have to see what happens.
Our relationship was off to a cool start. The ducks did not trust me and would studiously keep at least 6 feet away from me at all times.
That was until they figured out that the food comes from me. And it is pretty good food. Then their attitude changed from one of mistrust to joyful declaration of my approach. If they hear me walking towards the chicken run they announce “QUACK, quack, quack, quack, quack” as they waddle their way towards me.
O.K. So that’s really cute and endearing. But they still aren’t laying eggs.
As I would feed and water the birds, I would tell them they needed to pick up their slack. For a while I had nine birds and was only getting two eggs a day. (Of course, three are roosters, but that’s another story.) Feeding all those birds makes those two eggs quite expensive.
The ducks have taken up residency under the chicken coop. Plenty of space. Keeps them warm and dry. A pretty good place for a duck.
Once in a while I look under the coop for eggs. Chickens don’t always lay in their nests and perhaps one or two were laying under the coop. I also still held out hope for the ducks.
Then I found them! I looked under the coop and saw two eggs.
I got down and reached under. One. Two. Wait, I feel more. Three. Four. Dig a little more…5, 6, 7!
They had been laying. But the nest was so deep that I didn’t see it until these last two on top were visible.
A total of six duck eggs and one chicken egg (the green one). I feel bad for giving Daisy and Minnie a hard time. I have no idea how long have they been down there. Are they still good? There is an easy way to tell: the float test.
Put your eggs in a large bowl filled with water. If they float, they are too old. If they stay on the bottom, they are perfectly fine. As you can see, mine are on the bottom (no floaters) so we are safe. I gave them a good wash and put them in the fridge.
I normally store my eggs unwashed on the counter. This is how eggs are stored throughout most of the world. There is this magic that a chicken does as she lays her egg. She surrounds it with a protective coat called a “bloom.” The bloom prevents bacteria from penetrating and helps preserve it. Washing the egg removes this coating. So washed eggs go in the refrigerator.
Farm life is marked by the simple excitement of dandelions and duck eggs. I’ll take it.