Monday, March 15, 2010

Mud Season

Rain! Rain and flooding and oh my! I still have potatoes and carrots on the bottom step of my root cellar - which floods! Why don't I just go and move it? Oh, because I cannot get the cellar door open on my own - it catches a corner and I can't pull it up without help (as my male guests know - they get used for root cellar access all the time).

In other news, the forsythias are starting to bloom hysterically early. Mud season, my friends, is upon us. I have seen buds on the trees.

If I don't sound that excited, it's because I'm not. Spring is that wondrous season that unveils herself after a cold, snowy, and equally wondrous winter. The contrast of a white, silent, and sleepy winter with the muddy, green, waking humming busyness of spring is the appeal of spring to me. But this year we didn't have a snowed-in winter in the Mid-Hudson Valley. We had a pathetic, broken animal of a winter. The rest felt stolen, unpaid for with shoveling endless walkways, just stolen. With no winter to tail, spring doesn't feel like an unveiling. It's just mud and work and waking green.

I know I'll get excited soon, once the blossoms start blooming and the snow melts off the mountains, replaced by that vibrant, nascent green, that can only mean the start of the busy seasons ahead. The heat and cold will compete for primacy as the seasons kick into high gear and the scurrying of spring with all of the planting and preparing will fade into summer with her glaring heat and constant work and that glorious week, tucked into late June, when everything is planted and the weeds haven't started in earnest yet, and there's nothing to do. And then the weeds will burst up and the summer will be full of swimming off the constant heat of picking weeds, and tomatoes, and the constant, flowing harvest, which will turn itself into hours at the stove canning sauces and jams, freezing everything, and slowly, the tremor of early fall will make me wake in a sweat in the middle of the night fearing a freak early frost until everything is harvested and the frosts start rolling in, and the root cellars are stocked and there's the constant smell of apples and wood smoke in the air. And then, maybe then, we will have a white winter which will remind us why spring is such a magical time.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Newspaper pots (and other things)

Spring is definitely out in full-force. The sun is waking me up at 6 AM as it shines into the east-facing windows above my bed. The birds are singing, the weather is bright, the dog chased a raccoon all over the property yesterday as i did some outdoor spring cleaning and checked out my garden site, and the weather is wonderful! I come home to plenty of sunshine, haven't been running the wood stove during the day all week, and the space heater in the bathroom (that I keep on a timer so that it's warm in the bathroom the morning and when I get home from work - when the house was coldest in the winter) has been unplugged. I am entirely overjoyed.

I have a gazillion things to do tonight before I leave for a weekend trip to Boston straight from work tomorrow - a bit of necessary house cleaning, making presents for the folks I'm visiting this weekend (my batch of calendula oil is setting 6 weeks today - I had no choice but to put it off until the last minute), as well as cooking for and going to a pot luck! Oh my - that means cabbage salad for the pot luck (with quinoa for extra yum), and probably some late-night cleaning. Which is fine seeing as I just received The Master and Margerita on CD in Russian to listen to while I'm working (why not brush up on Russian literature and Russian language while you work - it's kind of like whistling).

In other ludicrously exciting news - here is a good tutorial on making newspaper pots that makes perfect little 3 inch square pots. If you're using half-sized papers (local papers - anything smaller than the NYTimes, like I did) skip the second and third steps. The only other note I would make for clarity is that in step 13 she means corner, not edge, folded across to the middle crease (I had to really stare down the picture to figure it out). I also added a little staple to the folded-in flaps to keep the pot standing. I have no intention of planting the pot in the soil (in my experience that never works, it just contributes to a root-bound and sad plant). I'll just throw the little pots onto a bonfire and to hell with the staples.

If the soil dries up and stays workable over the next two weeks, chances are good that there will be some tilling going on. Anyone have any finished compost or composted manure I can take off their hands? I need 2 cubic yards, but more would be much appreciated.

Monday, March 8, 2010

March 8th!

Happy International Women's day! And beautiful, beautiful spring weather! Yay!

This is one of my favorite holidays, mostly because it feels like a family secret. Apparently, Americans don't believe in international holidays like this one and May Day. I'm going to celebrate by scouring the local thrift stores for a nice, large enameled casserole dish and making brisket (using this recipe). I am sick of my simple cast-iron dutch oven, which (among other virtues) is a pain to clean, retains smells, and currently has a lining of burned beef chuck stew that I can't scrape off - a remnant of my one and only tragic dinner burning experience. I have scraped, soaked (I know - I SOAKED my cast iron!), and still haven't successfully detoxed my dutch oven it's so stubborn. It's partially my fault for putting off cleaning it. I was so distraught about burning dinner to a crisp that I just left it and my sweetie and I went out for dinner instead. When I got home, I was still too upset about it to deal with it. I put the burned beef stew on the floor where the cat was overjoyed at the opportunity to pick at it and went to sleep.

The way to get the worst burned-on gunk to unstick from the bottom of your pots and pans is fairly simple. Pour baking soda into the pan just to cover the bottom, then add about an inch or 2 of water and boil for a few minutes. When it's been boiling just long enough for you to have finished whatever other small task you were doing, pour off some of the water (just a precaution so you don't splash yourself with boiling water) and scrape the bottom. Usually one round works.

I will also be starting my lovely little lettuces. I decided I'm going to have to buy a heat pad for my seed starting table - I simply do not keep it warm enough indoors to ensure proper germination of my seeds.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Now What?

I'm still fixating on raising animals - but I think I'm a bit too scared to actually commit and jump in. There's a lot of upfront cost and work. I've been researching a new animal each day. Today I looked into geese. If it weren't for the fact that people don't really eat goose much it would be perfect. Eggs, down, feathers, quality meat, and really good foragers - plus low rates of disease and good at defending themselves. Kind of sounds too good to be true - which it is, seeing as people seem to think that goose is only good eating for Christmas.

The biggest hurdle to cross for me in starting a small-scale, backyard animal operation is going it alone. Animals, unlike vegetables, require constant vigilance. They require daily human attention, and the infrastructure can be pretty high, depending on the animal (though geese, chickens, and rabbits would only be a little more than putting in a new vegetable garden). Fencing is the most daunting part of the infrastructure. I'd build a little animal house any day, but banging in fence posts in rocky soil is up there on my list of things I really hate doing. Though my landlord wants to fence in the 5 acres behind the orchard anyway, so why not?

It's very conflicting. On the one hand, I want to live in line with my values, and i want to do the things which make me happy. On the other hand, I really don't want to overdo it. I want to be able to go to sleep at night without rattling off everything I have to do until the inside of my head tics like a clock. But I don't want to feel contented and blase in doing very little to move towards my goals - which is how I'm living right now (or at least, it feels like that). Okay, I admit, I've always been an overachiever. I've always started way too many projects, and been in a rush to do it all. I've also always left plenty new tasks undone. It's a pattern of mine, so I'm cautious about taking on anything new - even though I'm less stressed than I have been ever before. And yet, I know I can easily get stuck in this place.

I don't want to become exhausted, over-worked, or resentful. I don't want to fail miserably by taking on too much, or by taking on projects that aren't well suited for me. I want time to sit in my living room and daydream. And to be honest - I want to play second fiddle sometimes. Being the only person around to clean the house, cook food, start seeds, motivate myself, and tell myself to take a break gets very hum-drum. I'm generally stronger, braver, and more productive when I work alone, but it's tiring to always have to be the brave, motivational one. And that's what I feel most strongly with the animal question. I want to do it with someone - someone I trust and someone with whom I'm on equal footing. I want someone to share the responsibilities, the risk, and the blessings with me.

That's one of the reasons that makes me feel strongest about putting off getting animals for at least another year or so. hopefully by next spring there'll be someone to raise animals with. This year I could easily content myself with helping out my friends at Awesome Farm - which doesn't address that I want extra income, but it'll at least give me some experience - which I know I need. My landlords have their own little farm stand that they've offered me selling space on, and I could easily get some friends to sell home-made products for me if it came down to it - I don't have to focus on animals.

As all the reasoning piles up I still wonder if I'm reasoning myself out of committing myself to something that would be meaningful, important, and exciting out of fear and temerity. It's a strange line to walk - and I can't tell which side of it I'm on.

I don't know. It somehow ties in with how this article about the trade-off of back-to-the-land'ing has been on my mind. I don't find radical all-out homesteading to be terribly appealing, and I don't particularly want to put myself on that road, except I'm not even close to being an all-out homesteader. In fact - I'm farther than I'd like to be. but i want those skills. And i want to know how to make do. I just don't know when and how it makes sense to escalate my commitment to all of this.

I've been gardening for 4 years now. I still love it, but I want more, and I want to see myself moving in the right direction - which includes making some extra money and gaining more land-based skills - and animals seem to be a way to marry the two. It's not like I'd be making much money - but if I started small, I could at least break even, given a good business plan. It's not like I'm looking at buying a flock of 250 birds, or 100 rabbits. I'm thinking more on the order of 10-20 animals for sale at the end of the season, plus a small breeding stock. Enough to cover the costs of putting some of the meat on my own table and maybe to cover one of my minor expenses - like heat - for next year. That would make it plenty worth it.

I just don't know.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Yum!

Clearly, this is a day for getting my sillies out. Some of you may remember that I have a minor obsession with Sweetened Condensed Milk - the most delicious thing in the world. And look! The New York Times Style section does love me! Milk in a Can Goes Glam

Now that's what I call delicious.

In other news, I set up my seed-starting station. I spent $30 for the whole get-up and 10 minutes measuring, setting up, and hanging the thing.

I still want sheep. or chickens. but really, sheep.

Excuse me for a minute...

Dearest Self,

You do not actually want to raise a flock of chickens, sheep, goats, alpacas, or anything else. It's just the spring talking. I know it could supplement your income, help you get closer to the things you want to be doing, give you some much-wanted skills, and even give you the best excuse to not go anywhere ever, but do you really want to commit to waking up at 6 AM every day, not traveling at all (including weekends) unless you have a trusted animal-sitter, and otherwise relegating your life to lovable little fluff/feather balls that poop everywhere and do their best to get eaten? I think not. Snap out of it and get some sense! Plus, you do not want to build a fence. I know you don't. You hate building fences.

Love,
Yourself


Dearest Yourself,

What if I stage a coop d'etat and do it anyway?

Love,
Self

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Spring Fever!

Yesterday was an incredibly beautiful day that smelled like spring! And it really is the season. The sap is beginning to run in the maples, it's time to have started the onion seeds, you could have started your lettuce seeds already, and the hens have been laying for almost a month! I spent yesterday drooling over farm animals on craigslist that I could never afford or take care of. I also picked up some meat at a local farm and found out that they have laying hens I can buy for $15 a pop. Not a great deal, but definitely worth it, seeing as laying hens for sale are pretty hard to find around here - especially 6 of them!

As for me, I don't have onion seeds to start, but friends have started them about a week ago. Im going to start my lettuce seeds today, and hopefully tap a maple tree (if I can find one on the property that my landlord hasn't tapped already).

11 Weeks before the Last Frost
Start Onion seeds (if growing onions from seed)
Tap maples
Start lettuce seeds (just put 2-3 seeds under 3-4 millimeters of moist soil and keep warm and watered until they sprout, then thin to the best one)
prep the coop for hens (if you're me)

Tapping Maples
Tapping a maple tree is fairly easy, and if you have cheap anything to boil the sap on for days, it's a great way to make maple syrup. Maple sap runs when nights fall below freezing but the days are above freezing. That's now, so get started!

Materials
A maple tree that's 10 inches in diameter or more (one tap per 10 inches, no more!)
A drill and bit that's 7/16" (or 1/2" if that's what you have)
Grimm spouts with hooks (or see cheap alternative below)
gallon plastic bottles or buckets with netting to keep insects out
A nice big pot for boiling water near an open window - it's going to get steamy!

The process
The best trees to use are sugar maples, but silver maples and a few others are good to tap. Make sure you have the right tree! It's best to mark your trees in the early fall when they still have leaves. If not, consult a good guide book with bark identification (such as the Audubon guide to North American trees)

Drill a hole with the bit that is angled slightly up at a height that makes sense for you to hang the bucket/jug at. If you have a grimm spout all you have to do is stick it in, hang the bucket off of the hook and let the spout empty into the bucket (on top of the netting is fine), or force a hole into the side hanging jug so that the spout empties into the closed (and therefor bug-free) jug.

If you don't want to buy Grimm spout, here's a cheap alternative - but you're going to lose some sap, so it might be worth investing in the grimm spout and hook - which is pretty cheap as things go. Cut a soda can (or a sardine lid or something similar) to about 4 inches long and 1 inch wide. Roll this into a half-tube and stick this tube into the hole you drilled into the tree as tightly as possible. hammer a small nail into the tree just about the makeshift spout and hang a bucket or jug off of the nail so that the spout runs into the jug or bucket.

Check your sap buckets daily and empty them. If you're not going to start boiling immediately, keep the sap refrigerated. Simmer the sap, being careful not to burn it, until the sap condenses to become as sweet as you want it - it takes about 32 gallons of sap to yield one gallon of syrup - so that boiling will take a while! You can add sap as you collect more in the early stages of the boiling, but once the sap starts boiling down, I'd transfer the syrup to a smaller pot and keep it on a low simmer until finished. YUM! Keep finished syrup refrigerated. any mold that forms can be taken off the top of the syrup which should then be boiled before using.

Make sure to try some raw sap! It tastes like magical water.