Tim Inman's Oakdale Farm blog and news, where we share our experiences 'down on the farm' in rural southwest Iowa - on a semi-regular basis.
"Bloom where you're planted."
No, this is not me. It is Richard Proenneke. He was the 'real' Alone in the Wilderness guy. You can watch him on YouTube here: https://youtu.be/hy-4NxJRxNQ With all that is going on right now, maybe I'll become even more like him. He hand built his own log cabin in the woods of remote Alaska a long time ago and then lived there all by himself pretty much year around for about 31 years. He was an interesting guy. If you watch his videos and read his journals you'll discover he was a very religious guy and a curious one. He started his adventure to see if he could do it. He could and he did. He did have short wave radio, but no internet or iPad. I'm not feeling too bad out here on Oakdale Farm. I just went in to town yesterday for supplies and lumber. I'm not eating my beans off of a can lid either, yet....
I am eating my beans though! Joyce and I always enjoyed - let me repeat that: enjoyed! - trying to be self-sufficient and independently productive. We weren't spookie about the boogie man coming to get us, it was/is just fun and a good challenge. I liked the process of growing and preserving our own food a lot. Of course, as a natural born teacher, and an old time Home Economics teacher at that, she canned much of our produce. I learned how from her, by the book! of course. Since I was in college right after we were married, I've canned our own beans. It was kind of my way of spinning yarn. Gandhi did the spinning; I did the canning. We both did our thing for the calming stress relief effect it can have. The sky is falling now, so it will have to land on me and my beans here at the farm. The fancy jars are loaded with my own homemade Chili con Carne for lunches. If you've never made your own beans from scratch - from the plant in your garden on up - you're in for a treat when you do. If you're new to canning, get a Ball Blue Book, or one from Jackie Clay. Her book, 'Growing and Canning Your Own Food' is a great resource for home canning and gardening of all types.
Ah! And look at those fruiting spurs on the Seckel pears. This looks like it could be a fruiting year for these little pears - our first for this tree.
Peas in a bucket! I'll spare you all the old gems of jokes about peas. You know the one about using peas for ice fishing? The fisherman bores a hole in the ice on the lake and puts peas all around the edge of the hole. Then he waits with a club in hand. When a fish comes up to take a pea, the fisherman whacks him in the ice hole! (Chuckle chuckle chuckle....) Or Jon's favorite: Eat every carrot and pea on your plate before you leave the table.... (Chuckle chuckle chuckle....) There's more but I told you I would spare you. This Dutch bucket is the home of some sugar snap peas.
Cascadia Sugar Snap to be exact. They're supposed to be a shorter version of the original Sugar Snaps. The originals are like candy right off the vine. These are said to be even sweeter.
Dutch bucket? See that hole? See that twine? A Dutch bucket is really nothing more than a bucket with a false bottom. For mine, I weave some plastic baling twine across the inside of the bucket about half way down to form a nest bottom. Four crosses is enough. Then (Cue the Sewing machine!) I use ground cover fabric and make up a fabric 'pot' liner that holds the soil for the bucket. It has wick legs sewn into it that go all the way to the bottom - where the water and fertilizer is! That's what the hole is for. I keep it filled to the hole with liquid all season. Sometimes I do it by hand, and sometimes I let a pump on a timer do it for me. The peas don't care which.
Annie thinks the bucket is leaking. She loves water, so she's always on the lookout for some. I knew it was just overfill running out, but she was hopeful it was a leaky bucket for her to play with. And Kev, if you're reading this from England, yes, that is another thing you can do with cattle panels. I cut an old bent up one down to make a plant stand table top.
I like to know what is what. There's a bunch of old jokes for that theme, too. But they aren't appropriate for here. Sorry. To mark my strawberries, I make my own labels. How? Just reverse print your info on cheap plain paper using a laser copier. Then, brush on a heavy layer of glue. I'm using Titebond II because I have it. There are also specialty products like Mod Podge that are made just for this. I didn't have any of that though.
After the glue is spread out nice and thick, lay the paper - print side down - into the glue and quickly wipe off the excess and rub out the air bubbles.
It will look like this. Get everything right side up so it will read correctly when you're ready to take it to the garden. Now, go away for awhile. I went away all night.
Next day - or whenever the mood hits you - run plain old water over the paper. The paper will break up and wash away (with a little helpful rubbing with your fingers) and the toner will remain behind stuck in the glue. Instant sign!
Remember this nasty weed pit from last time? Well it is going to become my new Whizbang Minibed on Plastic garden.
Step one: Clean off the site. Step two: buy a used billboard tarp. This one once urged you to listen to WGBH in Boston, the NPR mothership. I already do that a lot, so I didn't need the urging. I just needed the sign material.
Here's a 'thumbnail' of what it looked like for real.
The white side is for the printed message. The back side is black - perfect for a plastic mulch on the new WMBOP garden. These tarps are cheap - a company sells the used discarded billboard plastic for scrap prices. They are made to last in the weather and sunshine outdoors for sign purposes - and why throw them away? Plus, I'M DONE FIGHTING WEEDS ALL SUMMER! and I don't like the idea of constantly spraying on more weed killer chemicals on my food.
Annie was a big help, of course. The idea - 'invented' and promoted by a guy named Herrick Kimball who runs the Planet Whizbang website - is what I'm following. He has lots of good ideas. I made my Whizbang Chicken Plucker from another of his books. Actually, he is just the final resource. This is a combination of gardening wisdom spurred by Ruth Stout's 'No Work Gardening' system coupled with Tom Doyle's initial work using plastic mulches for 'occultation' with plastic and Mel Bartholomew's Square Foot Gardening. So - we build upon each other's successes and failures. Life is in the garden.
With the plastic down, I'm building mini-bed frames. They're each about 30-inches square. Annie is really into this kind of gardening. She can see the potential in it. I've just temporarily weighted down the plastic for a couple of reasons. One is that I want the plastic to relax and normalize to its full/regular size. The other is that I wanted to see if I could use 4 beds or if I would be limited to 3 in a row. Looks like it's going to be four in a row with about 30-inches between rows. I'll bury the edges and make it all neat and pretty another time.
It was a beautiful day when I started this work outdoors. No wind, sunny, great! Then the skies clouded up. That one little star cloud over by Oakdale Manor (Or our 'Randolph Country Home' as one of my school mates calls it.) should have been my warning signal. Annie was already getting pretty nervous - she somehow knew a storm was coming. I've had more than one dog now that felt I didn't have the sense God gave a goose when it comes to working outside in bad weather. My collie, Lucky, just got in the path of my garden tiller and literally laid down in front of it to stop me one time. He knew that a tornado was just behind the hill - and I didn't and wasn't paying attention. He saved my bacon that day!
Ah Excrement! (Only I didn't really use a 3-syllable word to express myself when I came around the greenhouse corner and saw this. The word I used was much shorter but more quickly descriptive of how I really felt.) Maybe the sky really is falling on my head. During the night, a big storm front with big winds wheeled through and look what happened. Have I ever mentioned that I live in a high wind area? Well apparently I need to remind myself of that little morsel of wisdom from time to time. Oh well, I'll fix it right next time and move on with the project. I never give up! So besides the obvious, such as it is, all is well at Oakdale Farm. I hope it is with you, too.
The crocus are up! Spring is on the way. Joyce planted these in the little hill by my shop door when we first moved to the farm in 2000. It seems like yesterday, but not. They're still saying 'Hello' to me every spring - and now I love it more than ever.
Annie seems to like 'em too. Or maybe not. How do you know? She's 9 months old now, so that's probably as big as she'll get. She's a full sized small dog - or a small full sized dog. Just right as far as I'm concerned.
Annie has to herd just EVERYTHING! This is a rare pic of the Official Shop Cat, Miss Kitty. Neither of my cats are afraid of Annie; she's a herder not a fighter. Annie is pushy, but she's a playful lover. Miss Kitty will play with Annie more than O.J. does, but both hold a certain grudge against her. Cats are aloof and disdainful sometimes. People can learn a lot from animals. Out of mutual respect, they seldom make direct eye contact - because that is an animal way to 'get up in your face' and be challenging. They don't do it. OK, this morning O.J. did it, but then he ATTACKED! Annie. Annie's little eyes just looked like 'Help Me! I didn't do nuthin' - honest.'
When Miss Kitty looked at Annie, Annie found something on the floor she should inspect for a minute.
After a few rounds of this dance, Miss Kitty lost interest and decided to go to her 'Safe Place' and have breakfast. See how Annie brought her back end around to block Miss Kitty? Annie let her through, but she wanted Miss Kitty to know it was only with Annie's permission that Miss Kitty could pass. What a dance!
A pan of food, a comfy box, and what else could a shop cat want?
So I decided since it was the right day and a nice one at that, I should make up some potting mix. I make my own.
I use an old fashioned cement mixer to do it with - ya gotta have equipment! I mix peat with DE and blend it up good in the mixer.
This makes a great sterile and absorbent mix with lots of air spaces and it doesn't get soggy or gooey. Peat is controversial now, but I'm too old to change - and I don't get the controversy. DE is Diatomaceous Earth - little 2-celled shells that are mined. It is very absorbent and adds calcium. Plants love it. I buy mine at the Auto Supply store. They sell it as 'Green' floor dry. Much cheaper than buying the same stuff from a greenhouse supplier with a plant label on it. Same thing though.
Here is my seedling starter station. I put one variety in each cup and sprout the seeds. Then later I transplant the little guys into their own nursery pots for a few weeks when it is time to set them out into the garden. They are sitting on heat mats that are controlled with a thermostat. Heat starts them much faster.
Aren't these Dahlias beautiful?!
Well, this gives you a better idea of what they'll be. Nurseries sell potential. 'Buy our brown stems and just look what you might get.' You can't be anything but an optimist when you're a gardener. My favorite philosopher and comedian, Red Green, says 'The optimists live longer, but the pessimists are more accurate.' Advice for our times? I'll just keep gardening!
Time to re-activate the dormant Beekeeper in me. My life took a major left turn as most of you know. So for the last few years, I've been more of a 'Bee-haver' than a true Beekeeper. The bees didn't survive well without me, but I never give up! So I'm pledged to do better this year. I don't eat much honey, but I have a purpose to my project. I want to produce all the honey we can, and sell it to help fund 'Orma's Orphans.' She is a lady in Africa who is feeding orphaned children - most of whom have lost their parents to HIV-AIDS. I've met Orma, I know people who go to Africa and visit her, and I know that my $$$ go right to the kids mouths. So I'm enlisting the bees to help feed the kids. A project with a purpose is lots more fun than just a project alone.
Damn and Blast! That extra ugly box to the left of the stacked hive was full of mice when I looked in. We have 'Deer Mice' here. Peromyscus maniculatus for you science types. They love to live in a cluster/colony. That's their litter/nest you're seeing in the bottom of the box. There must have been a dozen or more in there when I opened the lid. Carrying over from last time, you'll have to use your imagination again. Another Theater of the Mind: When I popped the lid, I had Annie right next to me. I suspected what was going to happen and I thought (laugh now) she would start killing them like a terrier. No. She was all over 'em but there isn't any killer instinct in her! She was going nuts in the excitement. Then I realized that what she was trying to do was corral them and keep them in a herd! Now just imagine a dog like Annie, quick as a cat, being in about 6 places all at once trying to convince panic stricken mice that they should form up a platoon and march in formation. I just stood there laughing out loud! She had about half of 'em under control for a little while, too; but then they broke rank and she lost interest.
So time for Spring Cleaning. I've got a couple of boxes painted up and ready for a change out.
I use plastic foundation. It is easy to use and clean. It has the comb pattern embossed into the plastic so the bees build out the comb the way I want it. Bees don't like plastic though. I melt recovered bee's wax and use this little paint roller to put bee's wax onto the foundation. It gives the bees some starter wax to work with and makes them happier to accept plastic bottoms.
Disease and pesticide accumulation are problems for bees and beekeepers. I'm using new wood for the frames. The plastic foundation snaps into these frames and then that all goes into a hive box. I'll show you more as the season goes on. I'll put one hive box full of new foundation and frames on and take one empty one off. They will get to keep their one active 'home' brooder chamber though. They'll build up into this new box as the flowers begin to bloom Right now, I'm having to feed them. Did you think honey was free? Not.
And guess who survived the winter? A little (a lot) the worse for wear, but Fuzzy is back.... I don't know where Annie had Fuzzy hidden, but she did. Oh my. I'd dispose of Fuzzy if I could get my hands on him. Annie seems to know this, so she always - always! - puts him away when I'm not looking. A small problem on a farm, I guess. All is hopeful and well at Oakdale Farm. We've been self-sequestered for a long time out here. I'll probably survive. Cheers until next time.
This time you'll have to use your imagination a little more than usual. There are a couple of really funny things that have happened out here that I just don't have pictures for. So I'll tell you about 'em and hope you can make the 'brain movie' work on your own. First, This is a pic of Annie's indoor night time sleeping quarters. We have way too many coyotes to let her spend the night in the shop. Their howling would scare her to death - or make her fearsome. They come right down into my driveway outside the shop at night. You already know she doesn't like to watch Rachel Maddow in the evenings, so she stays out in the shop with Miss Kitty until I'm ready to go to bed. About 10:00 most nights I go get her and bring her in. She is bribed with a treat every night, so she hops right into her kennel. That is the 'box' covered by the blankets.
BUT, right outside, on the other side of her 'wall' is this nice big soft pillow. It is a total coincidence that it is there. See the dent in it? Well, the other night when I was on my way up the stairs I could hear this huge PRRRRRRR. It was so loud I had to go see what was going on. Well, OJ the fearless Oakdale Farm tom cat had decided that pillow was his. The fact it was right on the other side of Annie's cage did not go unnoticed by him, and made it even better. Annie was locked inside her kennel, OJ was free to roam. He bedded down just on the other side of Annie's room and PRRRRRRed as loud as he could to make sure she knew where he was. Now I don't want to use the language that automatically popped into my head, but to say it another way, don't you think OJ was being just a huge south end of a north bound horse? And he knew what he was doing!
For the record, here is the sun going down about 6 weeks ago.
Here is the sun going down just the other evening. We're making progress as the sun is moving towards spring!
You might have to zoom up to extra-biggie size to get the joke here, but look at Annie's nose. We had a brief - very brief - warm spell recently and the top 3 inches of driveway grit thawed out. Annie decided to bury one of her special bones under the truck in the grit. She then proceeded to use her nose to backfill the hole.
Her nose had a good half-inch of gravel grit piled up on it. She didn't seem to mind, but it dried like concrete! When I went out to get her that night when Taps blew, I had to chip off the little concrete rock grotto from her nose.
So here's the most hilarious part of my recent past. It has all pretty much melted off now, but for quite awhile, I had solid glare ice all over my driveway. You already know Annie reads and does quiet things by herself out in the shop during prime time. Then one night when I went out to get her the fun started. It was absolutely pitch black dark. I had spread gravel chips on the ice to make a safer walking path, but it was wet slick ice. I turned Miss Oakley loose and away we went. Have I ever mentioned she is a super-high energy Aussie Heeler pup? BOOM! Annie was ready to go. She wanted to get into the house and get her hard boiled egg treat in her kennel. In the fracas I lost my way. I was off the chip path over onto wet glare ice/grease. I knew I was going to fall, so I was ready for it. Sure enough, WHOOSH! I was down on my hands and knees in the absolute black dark of night. It was cold and windy that night, too. So of course I had put on my absolute favorite Mad Bomber Rabbit Fur hat to go get Annie.
Now for the really funny part. You'll have to imagine it because I couldn't get a pic even if I would have had a camera with me: Picture me down on my hands and knees on wet glare ice in the pitch black. I'm personally embarrassed at my stupidity and hurting where my knees hit the ice - hard! Annie sees an opportunity! I'm down, I'm vulnerable, and SHE WANTS MY HAT!!! If you've never seen a Heeler do it's thing, you need to maybe watch some video of Aussies and Heelers working livestock. They are LIGHTNING FAST! Quick is the beginning word in their DNA. It seemed like Annie was on both sides of me and right in front of me all at the same time trying to steal my hat! So not only am I down on my knees, I'm now only one handed - I'm a tripod! - because the other hand was holding my hat on my head. I knew if she ever got it - my favorite hat! - I'd never see it again until morning and maybe not even then. She likes to hide and bury things. Well, I finally managed to get up WITH my hat on my head, and make it to the house. Annie was still grinning from all the fun when we got there, and to tell the truth, so was I. Sheeesh!
I've been mounting a bolt-on hitch receiver to the rear end of my new log splitter. It is handy to be able to pull it back out from a pile of split wood. Also, I'll be mounting a stabilizer jack with this to keep everything rock solid when I'm handling big rounds.
I bought the receiver, but I had to do a little black smithing to get it mounted.
I drilled some holes at the correct spots, and welded up some pinch clamps with angle iron and a piece of iron rod.
Here's a closeup showing how the pinch clamp is set up. The rod is the same diameter as the thickness of the base of the log splitter beam. You might want to make one for yourself sometime.
Here it is ready to slip onto the log splitter beam and cinch it down tight.
All done and ready to go to work.
Mother Nature is amazing. I have a lot of Honey Locust trees in my timber. They are 'weed' trees that came in after the Dutch Elm disease destroyed the good elms back in the '60's. They have nasty thorns and are just a pain - literally. I've had to pull more than one thorn from the bottom of my foot. It is like stepping on a nail. The guys at the tire shop say they love 'em because they generate so much tire repair work. Well, I go around on winter days when my attitude ain't right and 'girdle' the trees to kill them standing on the stump. I make a deep chainsaw cut all the way around the tree through the living cambium layers so the tree can't feed itself with sap flow, and it dies. The Iowa State Foresters say to double girdle them. I didn't do that on this one. Well, here's why they recommend a double girdle cut. You can see where I made my cut.
Here's a closer look to show you how Mamma Nature said, "Oh NO! You're not killing one of MY babies." Amazingly, she grew what is called 'callous' tissue around that cut to heal it before the tree died! Talk about a tree that wants to be there! I like to kill these trees standing because the bark will fall off - along with the thorns - and the wood will dry in place ready to burn. This wood is really oily, and burns like coal. It is one of the heaviest woods we have. It will float in water, but just.
Did I mention wood is heavy? I made a beginner's mistake with my log splitter. I had a nice 12-inch round about 30-inches long lifting up onto the deck of the splitter. Then, to get it into a better position I - stupidly - grabbed the wrong side of the tong lever. As advertised, it let go instantly! The resulting benefits of Mr. Newton's gravity system landed that rascal right on my foot! The edge of the log hit right above my 'ring' toe. See the mark? 'Dang!' I said, 'That's gonna leave a mark.' Or something like that. I didn't feel anything squishy in my boot, so I kept working the rest of the afternoon. When it was time to get into my TV Jammies though, I kinda didn't wanta look - but I did. The swelling is gone now and I'm pretty much rid of the purple, but I do still remember not to grab that (wrong) side of the tong lever any more!
So what's an old guy with a sore foot and a cold winter to do? Buy a new sewing machine! I use a Craig's List searcher and have old machines indexed in it. Just at the right time, up pops this old Singer 29-4 leather sewing machine. It needs some work, and the fellow who had it had given up on it. I never give up, and I love to fix old stuff. That's how I made my living. So I had to have it. It came from a saddle maker's shop in Norfolk, Nebraska. It was made in 1904, and runs with a treadle.
Ain't she a beauty!? Annie isn't sure she likes it. It has been getting a lot of attention she thinks she should be getting. But other than the obvious, all is well at Oakdale Farm. I'll be starting some pepper seeds pretty soon now. I'm hungry for something from the garden.
I am re-posting this blog entry from last year for two reasons: One is that I am still the 'Unofficial Advocate Boy' for Ovarian Cancer. We need to keep it upfront and work to find the cause and cure. Two is that I still find old friends from times past who have not received the message of Joyce's passing. What a wonderful thing to have made so many friends in business so long ago that still stay in touch. At the same time, a tragedy to have to tell them the awful news. We often traveled as a pair teaching professional furniture restoration classes to shop owners all over the USA. I was a listed AIC member specializing in wooden artifacts and interior decorative objects. Joyce was a credentialed member of the American Society of Interior Designers, with a special interest in grand public buildings. Thus, we have friends in obscure places far away and in between.
This will be my last re-posting of this blog entry. Next time will be something much more fun - I promise!
Goodnight Mrs. Calabash: The Farm Report 02-14-2019
I've thought and thought about what I should tell you today. I do want to keep to my New Year's Resolution and post regularly for you. But you'll understand, I'm sure, when I tell you that today isn't a good day for me. I am very committed to being a happy guy committed to making the most out of every day - and not to just be a Sad Sack - and I do want to find something good for this post. But, today is a hard day. Today is the one-year-ago day I lost my lifetime sweetie, best friend and love of my life.
Please permit me to share this with you. I do have a purpose in it. This was my Joyce at Christmas a year ago - 2017. Who would have known that just a few weeks later she would have been gone. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2014. Following a huge surgery, and pretty much full-time chemo, she did well. She lived another 3 1/2 years, and I want to emphasize that they were mostly good years! We had wonderful doctors and nurses - and the chemo/infusion nurses all get a very special place in heaven. Wonderful. She was able to return to her beloved classroom for another year after this. But eventually, the disease took its tole and she just didn't have the stamina to continue teaching. Her goal had been to teach until she was 70. She nearly made it too! She loved teaching and her students, and most of them loved her right back. Most of 'em.
So here's my purpose and I'm going to be blunt saying it: Ovarian cancer is a son-of-a-bitch! It shows virtually no symptoms, and it often kills its victims within weeks sometimes, or after a few months in other cases. Joyce was lucky, if you can say that, because she had just excellent doctors looking after her, and a strong faith and will to make the most out of a bad situation. Her family doc diagnosed her disease very very early. She got treatment right away. She got to live longer than most. Breast cancer has advocates and tricky pink stuff to remind people about it, because breast cancer patients often survive. Hooorayy!!! But ovarian cancer kills, and kills quicky, so there isn't a big support/advocate group to help people fight it. That's where my job comes in. I am the unofficial Ovarian Cancer Advocate Boy. So now, today, I am advocating!
Get seen by a doc if you have any signs of abdominal discomfort, and you are a gal, and you're not sure what it is. Period.
Joyce thought she had pulled a muscle near her diaphragm doing garden work. Wrong. But her docs knew better, and they went after it.
Here is a link to help you learn more about it:
https://www.ovariancancerawareness.org/ I have no relationship with this group at all. I just picked it to get you started. Learn all you can. And guys, if you have a gal in your life - sweetie, sister, mother - you get the point, support them to be seen if there is ANY symptom.
So there. I hope you'll understand why I'm a little exercised today.
Here is the February Calendar pic. This was taken one week ago actually.
The land had been covered with about a foot of snow just days before this pic. Then we had a hot wind - not me! - and it all melted off in a fog London would have been proud of.
This one was taken today. We're back to winter again. But this one is fun. Spring is coming! How do I know? Well, if you'll look carefully at the little dark dot in the middle of the picture, you'll see why. That is a lime/fertilizer truck spreading its stuff on the fields. These trucks are huge and heavy - and they go fast. I don't know who had more fun; me watching or the driver cutting cookies all over the slick field and terraces IN A TRUCK! while pretending it was farm work. Ya gotta get a yuck where ever ya can!
Joyce and I had our first date in college on Valentine's Day. We were engaged on Valentine's Day. And she passed away last year on Valentine's Day. The first year when I was a young guy hot to impress her, I gave her a dozen roses. The next year, she told me she would love me just as much if I gave her just one rose - and we could do something else with the money I would have wasted on the rest of the dozen roses. Those were her words, not mine. She was always a very practical person. So every year for the last 47 years, I have given her one single red rose for Valentine's Day. Today, I'll have to give it to her - and to you - this way.
For you young kids, this is Jimmy Durante. He was an old vaudevillian. He was a top comedian in his day, but what he really was was a tremendous piano player. He disguised it by doing comedy acts at the same time, but Jimmy Durante could play the piano - or 'pianner' as he called it. Jimmy Durante tragically lost his first wife at a very early age. He was deeply wounded by it, and ever after closed all his acts - whether on TV, the stage or radio - by saying 'Goodnight Mrs. Calabash (a nod to his wife) where ever you are.' Then he walked off. So with my own nod to my own sweetie, I'll end by saying, as Jimmie Durante would have said, 'Goodnight Mrs. Calabash, where ever you are.'
