It's been three years since our last... supersaturated spring, but that's what we're facing this year.  In the month of May, we received over 30" of rain, most of it in 3"+ downpours.  I think it's so funny that people bemoan the water like it's never happened like this, but I know it has.  I remember when James had to race home from work to fish out chicken coops from our lowlands, which were dramatically flooded.  We've learned not to move the chickens down there until later in the summer.

My labors to lay down mulch last summer and fall have been washed away, as you can see in the background of my blackberries.  These are on higher ground so they look great.  I'm finally getting them cleaned up and trellised properly.

 We planted some extra potatoes in with the mint in our one raised bed, and they may be the only potato harvest we have this year since the other potatoes are probably rotting.

 The weeds are taking over, as it has been too wet for us to get in and weed.  This week we began laying slabs of soaked straw in the walkways so that in the next week of rain, we can still get to the plants to pull weeds.

 The pond is bursting its banks, and I can only imagine the mosquito spawn breeding right now.

 And here are the garlic rows and onions.  This was a week or two ago, so the weeds are bigger, but we're beginning to get them cleaned up.

Our driveway has washed out twice, despite new gravel and repairs.  I think James has found a way to keep the water from destroying the entire drive now, so it will be safe to drive in and out.

I've made a big list of chores for the summer, and we are trying to plow through them now while it's cool.  I have no doubt that, come July, it will be so hot we will miss the rain.  Farming is not about calm weather, but about making the best of the weather we get.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Fall Work

Last weekend, we cleared all of the garden except for the sweet potatoes.  James did some welding, which is pretty impressive, so he could mow, mow again, and till.  The wind picked up in the afternoon, so despite my original plan to plan a cover crop immediately, I had to wait a few days.

Our hope is to help eliminate some of the weed growth we have in the fall and spring, as well as to enrich our soil with nitrogen fixing legumes.

 I planted a fall manure mix that included hair vetch, winter rye, ryegrass, peas, and clover, and then overplanted with mustard.  I read (which means I have a good chance of being wrong) that mustard roots grow deep, even in clay, so they may help break up our hard soil.  The recommended tool was a seed drill, but I had to stick to the seed spreader, which is what I have.  I can live with uneven seed distribution.

In the end, the challenge was keeping the pesky guineas out of the seed.  I finally set up a hose to spray/mist all over the area, and that worked.  Now we've had a few days of rain, and I can already see sprouting!

In the coming week, I'll try to lay out the drip hose again in an unplanted area for the garlic crop!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Goings On

Saturday, we spent a glorious afternoon spreading composted manure in the garden and around the fruit trees.  I raked the asparagus beds.  There's still work to be done, but the beds are much improved.  We added mulch in various places.  James tilled.  I weeded and watered the garlic.

It was glorious, all but the part where I lost my glasses.  I had prescription sunglasses on, but it's hard to see in the barn and the shed, so I thought I'd be clever and keep my glasses hooked on my shirt.  I can't drive, cook, sew... I have an old, distorted pair, and they'll do until I can visit the eye doctor and get a new pair.  It may or may not have been nearly seven years since my last eye exam.  On a side note, if you're good friends with St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost items, will you put in a good work for me?  He hasn't told me yet where to look, so I keep asking.

Then, best of all, we had almost three quarters of an inch of rain Sunday night.  Everything is pleasantly squishy and the compost is soaking in.  It feels like an eternity since the last rain or snow.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

The World Turns...

Feeding chickens, free-ranging turkeys, managing weeds, and being tired...

In the last few weeks, we've named the remaining turkeys: Effingham Sandwich, Christmas, and Thanksgiving.  Effingham has become a little aggressive to everyone but me, so turkey chores rest solidly with me.  I open the coop in the morning and round them up in the afternoon.  Last night, in preparation for a brutal cold front (FINALLY), James and I moved the turkeys to the old guinea coop.  Turkeys are not small animals, so James had quite a task to wrestle all three.  Now they'll stay cooped for a week or two, to familiarize them with their new home, before we try letting them wander again.

The chickens are moving closer to their stationary winter homes.  Egg production has dropped dramatically with the shorter days, and one flock has chosen this rather cold time to molt.  It looks like Armageddon in their coop from the number of feathers.

James mowed down the weeds in the strawberry patches.  I'm afraid many of the strawberries died over the summer, since I couldn't keep up with the weeding.  Next year, God willing, we will mulch thoroughly, replant as needed, and manage better.  The three big kids are big enough to weed, so next year that will be part of their morning chores.

A happy and blessed Thanksgiving to you, in case I forget to blog next week.  Support your local farms and grow some of your own food!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

State of the Farm

What is there to tell you?

We have plenty of frozen chickens looking for bellies to fill.  All but one frozen turkey is claimed.

Garlic planting is truly, abysmally late this year.  There has been too much for James to do and not enough evenings (he and the big kids are in taekwando two nights a week and he teaches at the local college one night a week).  The plan is this weekend.  It's a good thing this year's harvest was beautiful and we have plenty of fresh garlic to enjoy.

Tonight we shifted more chickens.  With hatching new flocks, weeding out the bad in old flocks, and needing to retire a chicken tractor, we've had all kinds of moves.  Four of our oldest hens are now in with the teenagers. Unfortunately, we had to butcher Aragorn, our best rooster, because he was tearing up his ladies.  That's a no-no in a land where roosters are expendable.  Sadly, a juvenile rooster perished shortly after being introduced to his own flock.  I don't know why, since he didn't show signs of injury.  Our oldest chicken tractor will hit the recycle pile this winter, and next spring James will construct a new one.

The summer's downpours did a number on our soil fertility, and I'm not sure how many strawberry plants survived.  They're currently invisible beneath the weeds, and I haven't found a good weeding routine.

The weather is (finally, slightly) cooler.  There's plenty of clean up this fall in preparation for a smaller farm next year.  We may not raise any meat chickens and instead focus on turkeys.  There are big trips in store for next summer, which makes the garden hard to keep.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Odds and Ends

We have 9 turkeys still in the turkey coop.  We tried heritage turkeys this year, and of the 10 we started with, only 4 remain.  That's an expensive turkey, my friends, when only 40% survives.  We'll return to our Atwoods standby for now, as we've never lost one of them.

Three different coops hold our juvenile chickens.  There are 13 teenagers, and it's nearly time to butcher the roosters.  Soup's coop, with six chicks about a month behind the teenagers, are just working out who's a hen and who's a rooster.  Finally, Ms. Crazy Pants, a first-time mom, have five chicks less than a month old, and I can't wait until her mothering instinct settles down, as she really is crazy.

We have four actively laying egg coops.  Some of the juveniles will be introduced to these coops, so they all function at full capacity.  I must admit, part of me is ready for the chickens to be in their winter quarters, snugged up near the barn, for my convenience.  I'm tired this end-of-summer.

The vegetable garden is a mass of weeds as we pull up drip hose, etc.  We need a dose of compost this fall, so we're cleaning up earlier than usual.

Our apple orchard is fighting cedar rust, so next spring we'll be spraying with an organic spray.  There are apples this year, but not particularly attractive ones.

James has a mighty harvest of grapes.  Can he turn them into wine soon enough?  That's an excellent question.

The three big kids are finally old enough to work on tasks outside without one-on-one supervision, so they're learning to weed.  Woohoo!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Weekly Recap

Maybe if I make an effort to recap our week, I can get back into the habit of blogging.

There's always (always) weeding to be done.  And lest you think our property is perfect and we've got it all together, behold just one rock...  The kids decided to decorate the top with pulled weeds, but there are still plenty more to tackle.  We have come a long way, but, please, don't be too impressed.  I don't take many pictures of our messes.

What's sprouting?  Radishes and summer squash are sprouted.  Strawberries and cherries are forming.  The garlic is now waist high.  I didn't even know garlic could grow so tall!  I certainly hope this means we'll have splendidly large bulbs in a few months.  The rhubarb is finally looking healthy, although watering it regularly remains a challenge.

What are we planting?  Tomatoes are two rows down, a million to go.  (Not literally.  There are still eight flats sitting on the deck awaiting my attention.)  I've also planted herbs and flowers.  The basil seeds are high on my list for some soil and water.

What are we harvesting?  Asparagus and eggs are keeping us hopping.  We're trying new laying boxes to foil our egg eaters.  Thus far, I'm disappointed in the lousy boxes, but our efforts are to make them work.  Our two sheep are at the butcher, so I've cleaned out two of our deep freezes while they're empty.  Soon enough, with sheep and chicken, we'll be full again!

What about those chickens?  The layers are now moving to fresh grass each evening, meaning the yolks are during the delicious, deep, orangey-gold that no store egg can match.  The layers-to-be remain in our stationary pen until James has time to build a new tractor for them (and who has time in the spring?!).  Our meat chicks are busy growing too, and while on grass, don't get moved every day (yet) until they can tolerate less heat.

 We are moving along with the business of living and growing!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Life in Pictures

Blueberries for pots

Ripe blueberries

Zucchini

First zucchini

Okra (and weeds)

Tour

 In between the rain storms (3+" in the last few days), I stopped to admire my view during my circuit of chicken chores...

The garlic bulbs have poked little green stems through the soil.  I had almost forgotten this were here.  It's nice to know I didn't kill them.

 The garden is a weedy, flat place after most of the trellises have been removed.  I have one row left of tomato vines to pile up, and two rows of fence.  Then, fire will take what it will.

 The asparagus is beginning to die back.  I may harvest a few seeds this fall to attempt asparagus seedling next year.  I may.  I may not.

 Hoses have been pulled up.  Most are coiled neatly for next year, but a few, pulled out in the middle of harvesting, still need some care and attention.  Once they dry (ah, I love the rain!), I will store them for next year.  I didn't realize how many hoses we had accumulated.  I suppose that happens when the movers put them in three different places last summer when we moved, and we bought more after most of the hoses were laid out.

 Our guineas and exiled (freed?) chickens are enjoying an afternoon meal outside the Love Shack.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

a Gasp for Breath in the Rush of Summer

I have used my vacuum sealer to put up to pints of dried fruit.  While I would love to put up more, the mulberries have not been so popular, and I haven't enough strawberries.  Next year, I will start drying strawberries sooner!

The {almost} daily compost bucket. We have just enough spoiled food (and eggshells) that I don't want to give to the chickens, so into the bin they go!

Onions are bulbing out fabulously.  This year, I'm striving to use onions as soon as I pull them, including chopping extra for the freezer.  Last year, too many onions spoiled through my failure to chop and use.  I know few things that smell quite as horrendous as a mouldering onion.

We are slowly... slowly... slowly beating down the weeds.  While they are still ahead, I think we are making great strides.  I'm not sure the same can be said in the battle against the whiteflies, although a judicious application of neem may help me.

The first garlic has been harvested.  The bulbs are disappointingly small overall, but they were planted too closely, in haste, by a nauseous pregnant woman.  I blame it mostly on me.  I'll save the biggest for this fall's planting (by Columbus Day).

Fava beans, why do you hate me?  Like in a past attempt, many are beginning to shrivel and burn up.  Is it the unexpected heat?

Tomatoes!  I am anticipating the first ripe ones with great delight!

A gift... an unexpected mulberry tree.  It is a weeping mulberry and quite attractive.

We also have apple trees suffering from cedar rust and peaches from oriental fruit moths.  I think our neighbor has not cared for his trees in the past, so we have work to do next spring to handle these issues!

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Fencing, Weeding, and Purgatory

After weeks, even months, of intermittent work, the fence encompassing the front 20 acres of Purgatory Ranch is complete, gates and all.  The barbed wire on the easy end will remind me of the location of the  dreaded poison ivy.  (Speaking of which, how have I stumbled into it three times this summer with tiny patches?  No major outbreaks, but itchy nonetheless!)

 Weeding this year is a battle.  JoJo is a most delightful baby, much more cooperative than Jimmy ever was at this age, but I still can't seem to get ahead of the weeds.  James set out to help me today... But before that story, bask in the sight of my not-quite-so-empty north potato bed.  At one point, I thought I had lost 95% of this bed.  Now I'd estimate my losses at 40%, which is much more reasonable and will undoubtedly yield more potatoes than we can possibly consume.  I enjoy extras when it comes to food.

(The exuberance of tree onions always fascinates me.)

And the purgatory of the title can be summed up as... A once-friendly neighbor may have irreparably damaged our friendship by calling James some terrible names and attempting to bully James to solve his own problems.  Thus, James spend 6 hours burning brush piles.  I even have sunburned forearms to prove my participation in the excitement.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

All in a Saturday's Work

First, James spend the morning helping a friend clear all the trees (particularly red cedars) from around Six Penny Pond, as well as cleaning out the garbage remaining from a torched single-wide a previous owner decided should be burned.  In the pond.  Yuck.

And that, my friends, was all before lunch.

After lunch, James began assembly of a shed for the kids' bikes, toys, etc.

I planted three Heritage raspberries; emptied the barn of garden tools, which were deposited in the newly-constructed, used shed next to the garden; fed and water the guineas; cleaned their previous home; and supervised the kids, including JoJo, who was particularly crabby.

Then, James and I selected planting sites for four rhubarb crowns.  Exciting stuff around here!

After dinner, as the crowning event of our insanity, we planted 200+ strawberry plants, half Earliglow and half Honeoye.  I stretched our remaining drip hoses and discovered I need, oh, maybe six more!

On the to do list to address the watering needs of the strawberries is also to discover whether or not the outside faucets to our house run through the water softener.  If yes, we have a watering problem.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Nap Time's Labors

Today, our mail lady dropped a "Johnny's" box on my door step.  "What was inside?  Surely not the sweet potatoes," I argued with myself.  "It's too early!"

Nope.  No sweet potatoes.  Purple asparagus.

Myself, I'm just okay about asparagus.  However, I love eating from the garden, and I have a mom who will eat all the asparagus I can grow, so I ordered asparagus crowns.  And here they were, in all their sandy, damp glory, just waiting to be planted.

Ah, tis the rub.

I am notorious for not planting starts, crowns, etc., in a timely fashion.  Once, an entire box of strawberry plants went MOLDY because I didn't plant them.

But not today.

Today, the baby was sleeping by himself in the swing.  (This kid puts himself to sleep while laying down, which no other of my children have ever done.  Who knew how un-needed it would make me feel?  But anyway, back to business!)

Planting.  Here.  Now.  In the sun and the breeze.  The day the box arrived.

So I found my rain boots (remember yesterday?), gloves, a shovel, and the box.  Soon I added a rake, bucket, and wheelbarrow to my tool pile.  There is an existing asparagus patch (*the upper left of the photo), but the rest of the "patch" was full of lilies or irises.  I love a good iris, but there were more than enough that I could sacrifice a few for the sake of edibles.  Besides, my mom was willing to take the bulbs.  Hence, the bucket.

There was plenty of dead grass to rake aside, so the wheelbarrow was duly loaded.  I'm not particularly adept at the shovel (I'll blame it on having a baby less than three months ago), so it was slow going.  I think I reached the appropriate depth, and I'm that much farther along in cleaning out this bed.  I have a 4-gal. bucket of irises for my mom.

The garlic was unburied in my raking enthusiasm, so here it is.

And, as a crowning glory for my efforts, I discovered these beautiful blooms on the peach tree.  Now for a few glasses of water and a hungry baby.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise. It's Purgatory Ranch.

Planting Time

Spring is definitely on its way...

Our yard is replete with daffodils planted by the previous owners.  I may be sick of them by the end of spring, but for now, they are a bright splash over color in the dark greens and browns of the end of winter.

We have some bulbs sending up shoots of mysterious hues.  These are the bulbs my mom and I planted last fall, and I don't remember everything.  I look forward to the surprise.

The new trees and the old lilac bushes are also budding out, holding forth the promise that colorful days are ahead.

I've tackled the first plantings in our new garden after James tilled again.  So far, peas, spinach, and lettuce are tucked in the ground, while a myriad of other tasty treats still await.  Planting is a hit-and-miss type of activity, racing to plant while the baby naps, hoping to beat the weather and the tears.  We are due for snow and ice yet again on Saturday.  But today, well, today is a gift, and I think I made good use of it.

Inside, my seedlings look better than in previous years.  Even my peppers, thanks to a heat mat, sprouted and look healthy.  Some of my tomatoes are ready for thinning, and all the slender stems arcing towards the light are beautiful signs of new life.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.

Potato Planting Insanity

Our helpers dug too!

As we enter our fourth (can it really be the fourth?) year of planting potatoes at Purgatory Ranch, the situation has changed.  (Year 1, Year 2, and Year 3) Since James and I now live within miles of P.R., driving out is much less of a trial.  However, since we moved, all our potatoes that had been saved for seed were exposed to extreme heat this summer in the moving van, and they were a tangled, vine-y mess.  See what I mean?

I always intended to snap off the sprouts earlier in the winter but never got to it.  Famous last words, right?  So this year, we opted to purchase some seed potatoes and sort through this mess to see what might survive planting.  Since last year we actually had a pretty decent yield from our over-sprouted potatoes, why not again?

I had two buckets and five boxes to sort.  All the small potatoes were pretty well exhausted, so I tossed them into the compost bin.  However, even after discarding all those, I had 35.5 pounds of potatoes (and sprouts) to plant. Add to that the potatoes my dad purchased, and we are well on our way to another record year.

Then, there is always the challenge of calendar.  We received two feet of snow not so long ago, and was the ground still saturated?  James and Dan work opposite schedules.  Myle was caring for a neighbor's children.  I have an almost-newborn.  Spring break is coming and we both had plans that would prevent potato planting by March 17.  Then, the kicker, for me... it was supposed to rain all day this Saturday, meaning the ground would be (God willing: we need rain) saturated, so I couldn't plant in the coming week.

This is the insanity part.  I made plans to plant the potatoes by myself, with three of the kids.  It's a good thing I had a friend offer to help.  In preparation, I cut up several of the bags of seed potatoes.  After toting up my pounds of seed potatoes, I opted to leave the bags of Red Norland and Yukon Gold uncut for a future planting scramble, as I felt confident we had no business planting 81.5 pounds of potatoes alone.

90 minutes later, we had this:

The north bed is almost entirely full.  My friend had a giant blister, and JoJo was complaining of the wind, even well-sheltered in the Moby wrap.  I consoled myself that even if it rained, we had the lion's share planted.  On our way home, the rain started.

Meanwhile, James' plans of building chicken tractors after school fell through.  Upon learning said information, I wildly suggested we plant the rest of the potatoes.  Right now.  As in, throw the kids in the car, scoop up the cut potatoes, and take on the rain, which had stopped momentarily.

This year, we left most of the south bed empty of potatoes.  We have planted potatoes in this bed every year and are risking disease buildup.  So, the only part of the south bed used was the section planted in onions last year.  It received the remaining Red Norland and Yukon Gold that didn't make the first cut.  This was accomplished in 30 wild minutes (wild, because we had four kids with us) of James digging holes, my tossing potatoes, and the girls burying.

And... Done!  All the potatoes are buried in the ground, and I'm off the crazy potato planting hook for another year... (We shouldn't think about the garden that is planned for Yahweh Jireh Acres)

Final totals:

Type	Pounds	Source	Rows (from the north)
Russet Burkbank	5	seed	3
All Blue	7	saved	5
Kennebec	4	saved	4
	2	seed
Purple Viking	5.5	saved	2
Dakota Pearl/Crisp	12	saved	13
	14.5	seed
Red Norland	7	saved	3
	12.5	seed
Yukon Gold	12	seed
	81.5

If that's not as clear as mud, just ask.  We planted 81.5 pounds of potatoes.  The rows are for my reference in July, when I can't remember what's what.

Until next time, remember, this is not paradise.  It's Purgatory Ranch.