Of a snow squall

Today dawned white and fluffy again, thanks to a storm cycling around the area. Trying its best to go out like a lion, March threw a curveball weather pattern our way. The big snowflakes eventually melted during noonday sun, only to be followed by a chilly wind and horizontal snow, which thankfully did not accumulate.

The three of us decided on indoor pursuits. Some bill paying, some internet surfing . . . I swept my table clear of such respectable tinkerings and made a collage. Wishing for spring, as we all do during these stormy spring moments, I suppose we could call this one ‘Spring Green Dreams’. Actual chard is sporting true leaves in the hoop houses these days, as are kale and assorted Asian greens. The afternoon finished on a golden note, with just a slight wind ushering the day’s squalls eastward.

honey do

I went back to school last week, in a subject I thought I was finished with after dissecting a cat in high school: biology. Specifically, bee biology for beginners, served up alongside general beekeeping lessons. The class was in a webinar format, and took place over four separate evenings. This being the first live webinar class I’ve taken, I was very pleased with the format, and especially grateful for an opportunity to learn with a live teacher, without having to commute hours away from our remote farm location.

The Stilwills and their neighbors, the Smiths, have previously attempted beekeeping; grand hopes of honey and retirement funding may have contributed to such inspired projects. These days, we’re eager to give it another go in the hopes of enhancing Fair Mountain Farm’s ecological interdependence and health. Honey bees are extraordinarily hard-working pollinators, a service many of our crops require. ‘Wild’ pollinators usually take care of such tasks around here, so we’ll see if we note any improved plant production. Bees remain true to specific flowers, which ensures good pollination since they stay focused on specific crops before flitting off to a dissimilar flower.

I found out about the webinar class through a series of communications with similarly interested friends and our area’s extension agent. Brushy Mountain Bee Farm taught the lessons, and each was divided into half lecture, half question/answer period. This made for two- to three-hour sessions. Despite their location in North Carolina, the teacher was able to address issues found nationwide. I found it all to be highly informative, and enjoyed the format so much as to consider pursuing further classes relating to farm topics. I have found brief videos on YouTube, regarding various farming techniques for smaller growers, as well as several webinars/videos at ATTRA. I’d love to find more. In the meantime, for my continued beekeeping education, I’ll be reading Langstroth’s Hive and the Honey-Bee: The Classic Beekeeper’s Manual
, a volume worthy of many evening reading sessions.

tongue tickling

Spring seems the most fickle of seasons. Today dawned sunny, warming our bodies enough to discard a couple of layers while working in the hoop houses. Then, a breeze floated into the pine boughs, the temperature dropped and the wind took greater hold. A snow squall appeared shortly, blowing over the Soldier Mountains and wafting in our general direction. Where sun rays had radiated across our vision, now flakes danced furious horizontal tangos. And then, all was calm, as the temperature continued to drop silently.

Arugula spikes dinner salads these days, as charged with flavor as the spring weather is charged with temperament. Spinach plants, seeded during the last week of January, have pretty much filled in their rows, covering the soil in a luscious green carpet. And while the hoop house greens grow ever faster, our minds run an even quicker pace. Seeds arrived today, from wonderful Johnny’s Selected Seed company.

Clarence has raked some snow-free areas of the garden, encouraging the soil to dry a wee bit faster. Tona is as happy as the red winged blackbirds to see more earth appear, yet cautiously reminds us of the April snow showers around the corner . . . nevertheless, garden visioning grows like the best of weeds. Eliot Coleman’s Winter Harvest Handbook has inspired renewed attempts at efficiency and documentation. We’ll make use of the remaining quiet days to anticipate extraordinary organization for this season!

Anticipation . . .

A cacophony of red winged blackbirds stimulates our greenhouse work days, the excited songs lilting somewhat hectically out of beat with our steady weeding rhythm. Such harbingers of spring have a way of flinging open the soul’s hopeful chambers, inviting any and all ideas to considerate roosting. Clarence and Tona routinely anticipate warmer weather and earlier planting dates by facilitating faster snowmelt from the outside garden area.

To do so, get a wheelbarrow of compost in position next to the area you would like to thaw. Get a good scoop-full on a flat shovel and fling it over the snow patch. The goal is to get a very thin layer of the compost on top of the soil, thus obstructing reflective surface. I went about it incorrectly with my first shovels, practically dumping compost on top of the snow, thinking it was the heat of the substance doing the work. Rather, all you need to do is change up the reflection, so that the sun’s rays are absorbed with the dark dirt. Coated in this manner, the snow is melting twice as fast as the surrounding mounds . . . I can almost see bare ground!

This method is particularly helpful in a small garden experiencing soft ground syndrome; plowing or snow-blowing the garden right now would leave some terrific gauges in the earth.

Of course NOAA tells me six inches of fresh white fluff is on its way tonight . . . such is March (and April and May) around here.

tender at the patella

My knees no longer seem indefatigable body parts. Gone are the childhood days of elastic, carefree movement. Here to stay are the days of acutely aware bodily motions, exacted with attentive ears honed in on creaking parts.
Birthday bells marking 30 years of life have hardly rung, yet I am more aware than ever of physical limits in such endeavors as farming. To that end, I’d like to share a couple of tools and movement methods instrumental in preserving mobility for knee-stressing activities.
First, the rocking stool. Tona introduced me to this when I arrived at Fair Mountain. One can sit fully on the chair portion, or half sit/half kneel. Either one helps enormously in reducing knee pressure; it also seems to help the back for long weeding sessions. The rocking base allows you to reach far into a bed without going off balance. Let us know if you find where to purchase more of these!

Then the old standby – knee pads. The cushion spread the pressure out a bit on your lovely patella (one knee component I can name). You’ll have to replace them periodically, and always try them out before buying to make sure they are appropriate for you. Clearly the best knee-saving ideas pertain to staying off of them! Switch up your duties, rotating from being on your knees to doing non-knee-use tasks, preferably before too much time has passed. This ‘vary your physical movement’ rule is applicable for all farm tasks. Repetitive motion is not good for hours on end, no matter what it involves.

And finally, plan your garden so that you can use tools while standing upright. Obviously this is not always possible; we all have to do hand weeding. But consider planning your planting with relation to using stirrup or collinear hoes. With proper posture, bending over as little as possible, these tools will help preserve your body over the season. Share your favorite knee saver ideas with us!