like legos for real men
pterodactyl-esque
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
how thinning fruit is like selling stuff
Here's an analogy between what I used to do and what I spend my days doing now. In sales, you cultivate relationships with accounts in hopes of closing deals and harvesting some commission loot. Your book of accounts may be small or large and it is up to the salesperson to decide how they will prioritize the attention they receive. Success or failure is usually a result of which accounts are carefully tended into fruition and which receive less attention if their harvest may be more difficult or less rewarding. Salespeople who go after the "low hanging fruit" are usually the most successful in my experience. You aren't supposed to tell management how you prioritize your account management by your desire to get paid, but it's not exactly a secret either. But if I had ever told my boss that in order to reach my sales goal, I would need to cut off contact with 90% of my accounts; not too sure that would have gone over well.
apple cluster
Now as to how this analogy relates to farming, my first time thinning fruit in our peach & apple orchard. I did the usual research before I got started; consulting the web, my master gardener manual and a couple books. I was stunned to discover I would need to remove 90% of the fruit off over 50 trees by hand. To put this in some perspective, an average peach or apple tree might have a cluster of 3 or 4 fruit buds every 4 inches or so along the branches. That needs to be thinned down to one single developing peach or apple every 8 inches. This is crucial because the weight of so much fruit will literally break branches off the tree and if all the fruit is left on the tree, the end result will be tiny undeveloped peaches and apples without the desired taste and sweetness.
peaches that will never meet our taste buds
When I had taken a field trip out to a local commercial orchard of over 5000 trees, I learned that the pros can thin a tree in about half an hour. With only 50 trees that should be a piece of cake right, maybe 25 hours of work, no big deal. Well that commercial orchard was comprised entirely of dwarf trees where you could reach the top of every tree on your tip toes, many of our trees are up to 20ft tall and would involve some type of monkey business in order to access the fruit that was not "low hanging." The first apple tree took me over 2 hours and I was beginning to envision branches overloaded with delicious fruit shearing off under their heavy load and laying in the orchard for only bugs to enjoy. I was extremely fortunate that our 25 or so cherry trees, many of which are way taller than 25ft, would not need to be thinned. Probably the toughest thing about thinning the fruit is deciding who gets to stay on the branch and who gets plucked off and tossed on the ground. Some choices are easy, the smallest fruits go, anything with worm holes goes, anything misshapen or likely to be damaged as it grows is gone. But what do you do when confronted with a cluster of 4 perfectly beautiful half dollar sized peaches?
fuzzy half dollar sized peaches
Yes, it is easy to become indecisive when holding the fate of fruit between your pruners. Sometimes you just have to clip em all and let God sort em out; to paraphrase a t-shirt my dad would never let me buy at the gun shows we went to. Working underneath a warm spring sun when the sky is clear Carolina blue is not a bad deal, especially with a German Shepherd and Blue Heeler to keep you company
the boys, der kaiser and hopalong
It does give you a lot of time to think though, as operating a set of pruners is not exactly rocket science. I've thought about everything from the guest list at my 9th birthday party to the cafeteria lunch menu in first grade to wondering what I would have thought about thinning fruit for 9 hours a day last year while sitting comfortably in my cubicle. Tomorrow, I'm headed over to a couple's land who I met searching for free horse manure. When I first pulled up their driveway they were doing something that looked like a cross between a renaissance fair and live action dungeons and dragons. Turns out they like to do medieval re-enacting, which I managed to sound very interested in while I shoveled up their precious horse dung into my pickup truck. They were interested in becoming more self-sufficient and had moved here to start a homestead just like April and I did. As we talked they brought up the idea of trading work days at each others places and that sounded like a pretty cool idea to me. When I heard that they had acquired 3 free goats this week and needed to expand to clear some land and expand their fenced pasture land, I knew it was time to ante up and put my muscles where my mouth was. So, I'll head over tomorrow morning to spend a day clearing some overgrown brush and pounding in fence posts. I like the idea of being neighborly but I don't really like any of my neighbors, so I try and do a little good with whoever I cross paths with. Their kid also looks a lot like I did in 4th grade; when I was chubby and thought glow in the dark high-top Keds were cool.
And as I finish this post about how thinning fruit is like selling stuff, tasting the results of our first attempt at homebrewing, I realize that they aren't really alike at all. Because now I really enjoy what I am doing, even if I am working for free.
rock stacking, not just for hippies...
apple cluster
Now as to how this analogy relates to farming, my first time thinning fruit in our peach & apple orchard. I did the usual research before I got started; consulting the web, my master gardener manual and a couple books. I was stunned to discover I would need to remove 90% of the fruit off over 50 trees by hand. To put this in some perspective, an average peach or apple tree might have a cluster of 3 or 4 fruit buds every 4 inches or so along the branches. That needs to be thinned down to one single developing peach or apple every 8 inches. This is crucial because the weight of so much fruit will literally break branches off the tree and if all the fruit is left on the tree, the end result will be tiny undeveloped peaches and apples without the desired taste and sweetness.
peaches that will never meet our taste buds
When I had taken a field trip out to a local commercial orchard of over 5000 trees, I learned that the pros can thin a tree in about half an hour. With only 50 trees that should be a piece of cake right, maybe 25 hours of work, no big deal. Well that commercial orchard was comprised entirely of dwarf trees where you could reach the top of every tree on your tip toes, many of our trees are up to 20ft tall and would involve some type of monkey business in order to access the fruit that was not "low hanging." The first apple tree took me over 2 hours and I was beginning to envision branches overloaded with delicious fruit shearing off under their heavy load and laying in the orchard for only bugs to enjoy. I was extremely fortunate that our 25 or so cherry trees, many of which are way taller than 25ft, would not need to be thinned. Probably the toughest thing about thinning the fruit is deciding who gets to stay on the branch and who gets plucked off and tossed on the ground. Some choices are easy, the smallest fruits go, anything with worm holes goes, anything misshapen or likely to be damaged as it grows is gone. But what do you do when confronted with a cluster of 4 perfectly beautiful half dollar sized peaches?
fuzzy half dollar sized peaches
Yes, it is easy to become indecisive when holding the fate of fruit between your pruners. Sometimes you just have to clip em all and let God sort em out; to paraphrase a t-shirt my dad would never let me buy at the gun shows we went to. Working underneath a warm spring sun when the sky is clear Carolina blue is not a bad deal, especially with a German Shepherd and Blue Heeler to keep you company
the boys, der kaiser and hopalong
It does give you a lot of time to think though, as operating a set of pruners is not exactly rocket science. I've thought about everything from the guest list at my 9th birthday party to the cafeteria lunch menu in first grade to wondering what I would have thought about thinning fruit for 9 hours a day last year while sitting comfortably in my cubicle. Tomorrow, I'm headed over to a couple's land who I met searching for free horse manure. When I first pulled up their driveway they were doing something that looked like a cross between a renaissance fair and live action dungeons and dragons. Turns out they like to do medieval re-enacting, which I managed to sound very interested in while I shoveled up their precious horse dung into my pickup truck. They were interested in becoming more self-sufficient and had moved here to start a homestead just like April and I did. As we talked they brought up the idea of trading work days at each others places and that sounded like a pretty cool idea to me. When I heard that they had acquired 3 free goats this week and needed to expand to clear some land and expand their fenced pasture land, I knew it was time to ante up and put my muscles where my mouth was. So, I'll head over tomorrow morning to spend a day clearing some overgrown brush and pounding in fence posts. I like the idea of being neighborly but I don't really like any of my neighbors, so I try and do a little good with whoever I cross paths with. Their kid also looks a lot like I did in 4th grade; when I was chubby and thought glow in the dark high-top Keds were cool.
And as I finish this post about how thinning fruit is like selling stuff, tasting the results of our first attempt at homebrewing, I realize that they aren't really alike at all. Because now I really enjoy what I am doing, even if I am working for free.
rock stacking, not just for hippies...
Sunday, May 2, 2010
thought for a sunday evening
“Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.” - Colossians 3:23
Saturday, May 1, 2010
no rain
a silver brahma hen gives me an assist fertilizing the rosebushes
our first white rose of spring
chicken stampede
building the compost pile with fresh horse stuff
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
grapes & greens
our himrod grape vine leans on some rebar until it reaches the trellis wire
future salad
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Hopalong & Der Kaiser
Clyde has been tripodal lately, getting around only 3 legs. April and I have both given his left rear leg the squeeze, twist and stretch work-over and he doesn't seem to be in any pain but he won't put any weight on it. This first started way back around January, but after a few hops Clyde always went back to being 4 legged. Now, he has been hopping for almost 4 days straight so I took him in for his first vet appointment today. The vet also has a blue heeler and seemed to take a shine to Clyde. The dog doctor put his leg through the same exam that April had, squeezing, twisting and stretching it but could not figure out what was going on either. We have heard patellar luxation (dislocated kneecap) is pretty common in Australian Cattle Dogs and were hoping that it would be that instead of a ACL tear or a hip problem. Lil Clyde will have to go back in this Friday to be knocked out for some X-rays and a thorough workup. He also got his rabies vaccination and weighed in at a hefty 50 lbs, Otto towers over him but only weighs 75lbs after a turkey dinner. We are a little concerned that Hopalong is having issues with his leg at only 6 months old, we want to see if we can get whatever is ailing him taken care of before it gets any worse. The title of today's post I stole from April, when she pulls in the driveway the dogs scramble to see who can greet her first. Usually Clyde wins, but today I think he may have lost by a nose to the old Kaiser.
hopalong tries to take the purple hippo from der Kaiser
On a happier note, we're getting some rain tonight which will do our trees and crops good. I built a 3rd raised bed last week and added on a potato box yesterday, so all told we have about 400 sq feet planted.
latest raised bed
We planted an entire bed of the three sisters (corn, beans & peas) last Friday to supplement our herbs, greens, tomatoes and peppers. The idea is to see if we can subsist primarily off what we are growing this summer and reduce our grocery bill down as much a possible. That will be a lot easier now that we have some staple carbohydrates in the ground and growing. I researched a bunch of different methods to grow the taters before I settled on extending the 3rd raised bed another 5 feet to give us a 25 sq foot potato box. Some of the more interesting ideas were growing the spuds in stacked tires filled with dirt or straw or building a "potato tower." After checking out some gardening forums and looking over the comments and pics, I was almost ready to do things the old fashioned way and just stick the seed potatos in a trench in the ground. But as our garden has risen, I have grown to see the benefits creating my own "super soil" with a mix of compost, peat moss and Black Kow topsoil. In this case, I added some of the Espoma organic fertilizer for acid loving plants I had leftover from our blueberry bushes since potatoes also thrive in an acidic soil. I should mention that the blueberry bushes are about the only things we have planted that hasn't really taken off, out of the 5 bushes we planted in half whiskey barrels only 2 are thriving. I think it has to do with the drainage in the whiskey barrels, blueberry bushes can't stand a damp soil and even with the extra holes I drilled in the barrels they stay way too damp.
bad bush
I think I have won the war against the eastern tent caterpillars. The defoliated trees are leafy and green again and I can't find a single tent in any of them. Love seeing little cherry, peach and apple buds forming where flowers used to be and hope some of those little guys will survive to meet our taste buds this summer.
baby cherries
Who knows what other nefarious insect army will try to steal their deliciousness from us? I really appreciate the rain more than I have ever before, each drop promises to nourish the plants and save me the the trouble of watering. Rain used to be an inconvenience, something to bring an umbrella for or wear a jacket against, now it is precious, life-giving. Although blue skies are beautiful in their own way...
if god isn't a tarheel, why is the sky carolina blue?
hopalong tries to take the purple hippo from der Kaiser
On a happier note, we're getting some rain tonight which will do our trees and crops good. I built a 3rd raised bed last week and added on a potato box yesterday, so all told we have about 400 sq feet planted.
latest raised bed
We planted an entire bed of the three sisters (corn, beans & peas) last Friday to supplement our herbs, greens, tomatoes and peppers. The idea is to see if we can subsist primarily off what we are growing this summer and reduce our grocery bill down as much a possible. That will be a lot easier now that we have some staple carbohydrates in the ground and growing. I researched a bunch of different methods to grow the taters before I settled on extending the 3rd raised bed another 5 feet to give us a 25 sq foot potato box. Some of the more interesting ideas were growing the spuds in stacked tires filled with dirt or straw or building a "potato tower." After checking out some gardening forums and looking over the comments and pics, I was almost ready to do things the old fashioned way and just stick the seed potatos in a trench in the ground. But as our garden has risen, I have grown to see the benefits creating my own "super soil" with a mix of compost, peat moss and Black Kow topsoil. In this case, I added some of the Espoma organic fertilizer for acid loving plants I had leftover from our blueberry bushes since potatoes also thrive in an acidic soil. I should mention that the blueberry bushes are about the only things we have planted that hasn't really taken off, out of the 5 bushes we planted in half whiskey barrels only 2 are thriving. I think it has to do with the drainage in the whiskey barrels, blueberry bushes can't stand a damp soil and even with the extra holes I drilled in the barrels they stay way too damp.
bad bush
I think I have won the war against the eastern tent caterpillars. The defoliated trees are leafy and green again and I can't find a single tent in any of them. Love seeing little cherry, peach and apple buds forming where flowers used to be and hope some of those little guys will survive to meet our taste buds this summer.
baby cherries
Who knows what other nefarious insect army will try to steal their deliciousness from us? I really appreciate the rain more than I have ever before, each drop promises to nourish the plants and save me the the trouble of watering. Rain used to be an inconvenience, something to bring an umbrella for or wear a jacket against, now it is precious, life-giving. Although blue skies are beautiful in their own way...
if god isn't a tarheel, why is the sky carolina blue?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Serpents Strike on Tuesdays
Today was the first Tuesday out of the last 3 weeks that I did NOT lose a hen to the black snakes. I held off on posting these pics from last Tuesday because they are a bit morbid. Now that I have beefed up security around the coop with mothballs, snake-B-gone and 1/4 inch hardware cloth, I'm hoping they will be the last of the dead snake series...God willing.
the death dealer nailed to the barn, a warning to others who might consider visiting the coop
blood atonement
the death dealer nailed to the barn, a warning to others who might consider visiting the coop
blood atonement
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Worm Wars
I have met the enemy and it is the Eastern Tent Caterpillar.
a medium sized fuzzy devil
These voracious bastards are among the most highly evolved worms and possess a special taste for the apple and cherry trees that make up most of our orchard. Since apple and cherry tree leaves contain small amounts of cyanide, these worms have learned to regurgitate a cyanide laced vomit to deter birds and other bugs from eating them. Their fuzzy hairs are also a strong deterrent to predators, leaving the cuckoo bird as nearly their only nemesis in the animal kingdom. We started noticing their silk tents in the crotches of our trees about a month ago when the weather began to warm and I naively thought I could control them by climbing the trees and tearing down their nests by hand and stick or blasting the nests too high to reach with a hose.
the silky fortress of the enemy worm
Turns out I severely misunderestimated these cyborg caterpillars of doom. So, next I tried pruning entire limbs off where they have woven their tents and then squishing and burning the worms on the ground. When I had trouble igniting their silken fortresses, I developed my own "agent orange" for worms consisting of Club Man aftershave and April's hairspray. While it was satisfying to torch the enemy, the process was too slow to combat the 10 or more nests in some trees and I realized I would never be able to keep up with all 75 trees with these tactics. My desire to grow everything organically was diminishing as some trees were becoming nearly completely defoliated.
to the right is a tree, on the left is a tree on bugs
a closer look at the damage
With each leaf they consumed, the caterpillar army grew stronger and my morale sunk lower until I began to contemplate the "nuclear" option. I did some research trying to identify a chemical or pesticide that would destroy the worms without killing April's bees and finally hit the jackpot when I stumbled across a soil dwelling bacteria known as Bacillus thuringiensis or BT. This commonly used biological alternative to pesticide meant I could stop the caterpillars with no collateral damage to the hives and still stay organic. I was almost giddy as I envisioned the carnage I could inflict upon the worms as soon as my biological weapons arrived, my soul became less soft hearted and more like Saddam Hussein imagining the devastation of Wormpocalypse. When April brought home my package from Amazon on Monday evening, I was so excited she counted the number of times I said, "It's on like Donkey Kong!" somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 or 8. So, early Tuesday morning, before the worms had squirmed out of their silk tents to feast on my trees; I mixed up 4 tablespoons of Safer Brand Caterpillar Killer with BT per gallon of water in my sprayer and headed out to slay the fuzzy dragons. I neglected to read the directions, because when at war there is rarely time for such things as reading the directions. I spent from 8am until late in the afternoon going from tree to tree with my sprayer and tree saw, blasting each nest I could reach and pruning down the ones I couldn't before blasting them too. Then, to make sure they were good and dead, I stomped and ground the wriggling masses of worms into the dirt with my boots. I was sunburnt and exhausted when I retreated to the house for a glass of cherry limeade and decided to check the internet to see why some worms were stubbornly refusing to die. Turns out I should have read the directions. You aren't supposed to spray the worms themselves, but the leaves on the trees instead so that the bacteria will be ingested before it can paralyze their digestive system. I was somewhat disappointed that I had wasted the day and nearly a whole jar of BT, but I had ordered extra so I mixed up some more bug juice and returned to the frontlines. I was able to get through spraying the foliage of every tree in the front orchard before night fell and I grew tired of battle. I was able to get to the back orchard a day later but was caught by a surprise attack as the worms had recruited a new ally in the war against me, Fireblight. Unlike my bacterial ally, BT, fireblight is a contagious, destructive protobacteria that leaves tree bark looking torched and there is no known cure besides pruning off infected limbs or even cutting down the entire tree to prevent its spread. Between the worms and the blight, I was beginning to feel bitchslapped by mother nature and wondering whether organic farming was really the wave of the future or just for city born idiots who enjoy being outsmarted by insects and bacteria. I did my best to prune out the blighted and dead branches along with the nests and sprayed the foliage thoroughly. But no matter how much I cut and sprayed it seemed there was always another silken bag of writhing worms to contend with. I consulted with the local county agricultural agent at my master gardener class and he recommended spraying the foliage with a real pesticide like Sevin as soon as the blossoms had dropped off the trees; but I was still concerned about April's bees who I am becoming fond of in a stupid hippie sort of way. So I turned to the wizened beepeople of the Caldwell County Beekeepers Clubs at our annual picnic on Thursday night; asking for their ideas on controlling the Tent Caterpillars. Finally, I got the answer I had been looking for. Cooking Oil, Lemon Joy and hot water well mixed becomes a deadly caterpillar coating gel that suffocates them by clogging their air exchange mechanism. It was just the sort of folksy remedy I had been hoping for and when I mixed up a batch and began to spray around our raised beds where the worms had advanced, I was delighted to see it was both instant and deadly. As I write these words, I have probably spent around 30 or more hours waging war with the Eastern Tent Caterpillar and have grudgingly grown to respect this worthy foe. I have tried feeding some prisoners of war to the chickens but they refuse to consume the fuzzy, cyanide laced warriors. With only my boots and a lemon scented blend of soap and oil to defend our fruit trees the battle rages on. Only time will tell who shall emerge triumphant to taste the sweet fruits of victory...
will the sun set on the caterpillar empire or my dreams of organic farming?
a medium sized fuzzy devil
These voracious bastards are among the most highly evolved worms and possess a special taste for the apple and cherry trees that make up most of our orchard. Since apple and cherry tree leaves contain small amounts of cyanide, these worms have learned to regurgitate a cyanide laced vomit to deter birds and other bugs from eating them. Their fuzzy hairs are also a strong deterrent to predators, leaving the cuckoo bird as nearly their only nemesis in the animal kingdom. We started noticing their silk tents in the crotches of our trees about a month ago when the weather began to warm and I naively thought I could control them by climbing the trees and tearing down their nests by hand and stick or blasting the nests too high to reach with a hose.
the silky fortress of the enemy worm
Turns out I severely misunderestimated these cyborg caterpillars of doom. So, next I tried pruning entire limbs off where they have woven their tents and then squishing and burning the worms on the ground. When I had trouble igniting their silken fortresses, I developed my own "agent orange" for worms consisting of Club Man aftershave and April's hairspray. While it was satisfying to torch the enemy, the process was too slow to combat the 10 or more nests in some trees and I realized I would never be able to keep up with all 75 trees with these tactics. My desire to grow everything organically was diminishing as some trees were becoming nearly completely defoliated.
to the right is a tree, on the left is a tree on bugs
a closer look at the damage
With each leaf they consumed, the caterpillar army grew stronger and my morale sunk lower until I began to contemplate the "nuclear" option. I did some research trying to identify a chemical or pesticide that would destroy the worms without killing April's bees and finally hit the jackpot when I stumbled across a soil dwelling bacteria known as Bacillus thuringiensis or BT. This commonly used biological alternative to pesticide meant I could stop the caterpillars with no collateral damage to the hives and still stay organic. I was almost giddy as I envisioned the carnage I could inflict upon the worms as soon as my biological weapons arrived, my soul became less soft hearted and more like Saddam Hussein imagining the devastation of Wormpocalypse. When April brought home my package from Amazon on Monday evening, I was so excited she counted the number of times I said, "It's on like Donkey Kong!" somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 or 8. So, early Tuesday morning, before the worms had squirmed out of their silk tents to feast on my trees; I mixed up 4 tablespoons of Safer Brand Caterpillar Killer with BT per gallon of water in my sprayer and headed out to slay the fuzzy dragons. I neglected to read the directions, because when at war there is rarely time for such things as reading the directions. I spent from 8am until late in the afternoon going from tree to tree with my sprayer and tree saw, blasting each nest I could reach and pruning down the ones I couldn't before blasting them too. Then, to make sure they were good and dead, I stomped and ground the wriggling masses of worms into the dirt with my boots. I was sunburnt and exhausted when I retreated to the house for a glass of cherry limeade and decided to check the internet to see why some worms were stubbornly refusing to die. Turns out I should have read the directions. You aren't supposed to spray the worms themselves, but the leaves on the trees instead so that the bacteria will be ingested before it can paralyze their digestive system. I was somewhat disappointed that I had wasted the day and nearly a whole jar of BT, but I had ordered extra so I mixed up some more bug juice and returned to the frontlines. I was able to get through spraying the foliage of every tree in the front orchard before night fell and I grew tired of battle. I was able to get to the back orchard a day later but was caught by a surprise attack as the worms had recruited a new ally in the war against me, Fireblight. Unlike my bacterial ally, BT, fireblight is a contagious, destructive protobacteria that leaves tree bark looking torched and there is no known cure besides pruning off infected limbs or even cutting down the entire tree to prevent its spread. Between the worms and the blight, I was beginning to feel bitchslapped by mother nature and wondering whether organic farming was really the wave of the future or just for city born idiots who enjoy being outsmarted by insects and bacteria. I did my best to prune out the blighted and dead branches along with the nests and sprayed the foliage thoroughly. But no matter how much I cut and sprayed it seemed there was always another silken bag of writhing worms to contend with. I consulted with the local county agricultural agent at my master gardener class and he recommended spraying the foliage with a real pesticide like Sevin as soon as the blossoms had dropped off the trees; but I was still concerned about April's bees who I am becoming fond of in a stupid hippie sort of way. So I turned to the wizened beepeople of the Caldwell County Beekeepers Clubs at our annual picnic on Thursday night; asking for their ideas on controlling the Tent Caterpillars. Finally, I got the answer I had been looking for. Cooking Oil, Lemon Joy and hot water well mixed becomes a deadly caterpillar coating gel that suffocates them by clogging their air exchange mechanism. It was just the sort of folksy remedy I had been hoping for and when I mixed up a batch and began to spray around our raised beds where the worms had advanced, I was delighted to see it was both instant and deadly. As I write these words, I have probably spent around 30 or more hours waging war with the Eastern Tent Caterpillar and have grudgingly grown to respect this worthy foe. I have tried feeding some prisoners of war to the chickens but they refuse to consume the fuzzy, cyanide laced warriors. With only my boots and a lemon scented blend of soap and oil to defend our fruit trees the battle rages on. Only time will tell who shall emerge triumphant to taste the sweet fruits of victory...
will the sun set on the caterpillar empire or my dreams of organic farming?
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