Green Peas, Irrigation, Tomato Plants and the Chicken Tractor

So much to talk about today!

Green Peas
Here they are, the first green peas of 2013.  On May 30th, no less:

In previous posts I've talked about our peas & oats experiment.  I'm going to say that it's a qualified success, since the highs have been upper 80s-low 90s for the last week and the peas are still blooming and setting pods.

Yes, that's all the peas I got today.  They're the Green Arrow variety and they're sooooo sweet. I plopped down right there in the garden and shelled 'em.  We ate them all, raw, right out of the basket.  

Me: (holding out a handful of green peas, grinning.)
Dad:  What are they?
Me:  Green peas. (??)
Dad:  What?  Peas?  What kind?
Me:  GREEN peas.  You know, peas - like you get in a can.
Dad:  Where'd they come from?
Me:  (???)  The garden - we finally got some.
Dad: (takes the peas) What do you want me to do with them??
Me:  Um, eat them?  We did.
Dad:  (Eats the peas, then says with great surprise)  Oh!  Those are delicious!  And you grew them?
Me:  Yep!
Dad:  Huh.

I can't wait for more peas, and I don't think any of them will make it to market.

Irrigation
This has been a huge problem.  We bought special commercial-grade soaker hoses over the last 2 years, enough to cover the garden (we think).  But getting water to the hoses has been the problem.  The line that services that area is ancient, and it seemed every time we turned it on it sprang a leak somewhere.

This year the line was hit with the tiller, because the "as-built" Dad carries around in his head was, well, wrong.  Can you say "Class 5 rapids" girls and boys?  Sheesh!

Over the last couple of days the guys got it fixed, though.  My brother, may he rest in peace, stole that column from somewhere.  Knowing him it was most likely an old forgotten graveyard.  (He was weird.  He was a Lancaster.)  It makes an interesting marker for the water line so nobody (Dad) runs over it with a tractor or something.  The John Deere yellow flame on top should help, as should the chunk of oak tree, the brake drum and the stepping stone cover.

Now we have to run the hoses but there's no rush.  It rained buckets yesterday with more coming today.

And we managed to get this built (apparently) without Dad's knowledge.  Not sure how, though - he keeps a sharp eye on us.  He may have looked it over and decided not to say anything about it but that wouldn't be typical.  Anyway, it's where and how we need it so hopefully he won't be too upset with the way we did things.

Tomatoes in the Ground!!!!
THE FIRST 20 TOMATO PLANTS ARE IN THE GROUND!!!  I felt like shouting that because it has been an uphill struggle to get started on them.  It seems like things just piled up on us, priority-wise, and we've been scrambling.  20 down, 80 to go:

The wire cages are hard to see against the background, sorry - but there are two rows of ten.  This closeup shows the mud we get after a good hard rain - if I stepped in there, I'd sink literally to my knees.

Right now the poor tomatoes awaiting planting are sitting in my front yard, lined up all across the house.  Dad's dog, Sambeaux (don't ask) has his special favorites for peeing on but fortunately I have a bunch of each variety so losing three plants isn't a problem.

In fact, I have a bunch of extra plants so I sold some to the ladies at my doctor's office.  Our first garden income of the year! 

The Chicken Tractor
I was right.  Assembling the tractor was definitely easy.  But putting wire on it sure isn't.

Dad:  Whatcha building?  A dog pen?
Me:  Nope.  It's a chicken tractor.
Dad:  A what?
Me:  A Chicken Tractor.
Dad:  (grinning) Chickens can't drive!
Me:  We haven't put the wheels on it yet.  Then they'll be able to move around.
Dad:  ??
Me:  Just kidding.  We move it around for them.
Dad:  (mutters) a chicken tractor.  (louder) Huh.

We found that stitching the wire together with zip ties is a lot harder than it looks.  And the project called for something like 120 of them; it's gonna be more like 420.  AND the idiots who put together the plan said 4" ties were required.  Nope.  6", minimum.  Oh well, it'll be done by the end of next week.

It has to be.  The birds are fledging out and getting big!

Day 1:

Day 7:

Day 17 (today):

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We still have to plant corn, melons, peppers, spaghetti squash and pumpkins.  And a couple of exotic soup beans.  We needed the rain, but didn't need it if you know what I mean.

This week is supposed to be sunny, so more planting is ahead.  We really need to hire some help!

First You Dig a Hole

Note: The following was written at 4:30 a.m. Central time.  The end of the post tells what really happened today. ;)

Working in the house these last few days hasn't been fun at all.  I hate housework, but the rains kept us out of the garden until today and I had to get started on my kitchen.  Jeff cooks but I'm not very good at cleaning up after.  In fact, I don't do it.  I save it up and do it when we run out of clean (you name it).

It's been great listening to the chicks talk to themselves, though.  I swear one of them is a cuckoo by its voice - it warbles like a song bird.  And we would have missed out on this if we hadn't had DirecTV turned off.  Life without television?  Yes, it's possible, though I miss our weather man.

How to Plant Tomatoes

Today, however, was a great day to be in the garden.  Highs: low 80s.  Humidity: 88%.  Ahhhhh, planting tomatoes.  Can anything be more satisfying (and exhausting)?

First you dig a hole.  Make it almost as deep as the plant is tall, and at least as big around as the foliage.  Post hole diggers work great:

 (pic)

Then you sprinkle some agricultural lime in the bottom:

(pic)

Then you heartlessly pinch the lower branches off the plants and bury the babies up to their foliage in compost or, in our case, composted steer manure:

(pic)

There appears to be a trend to plant them sideways (called "trench planting").  That's too shallow - don't do it.  Anyway, then you make a cage and cage them. 
 
Jeff is bending cattle wire around a dryer drum (it's the perfect diameter).  He then ties the wire into circles and voila!  A cage is born.  These will last us several years:

(pic)

Then stake the cages.  Repeat 99 times until you have all 100 tomato plants out.  Urgh.

(pic)

Really, though - is there anything more satisfying than planting tomatoes?  Yep.  That would be planting melons.  First you dig a hole...

All of us gardeners and farmers down here in the South are way late getting things into the ground.  Thanks to the rains, darn it.  Of course last year I was complaining of the heat and drought so I guess I should be happy, especially since the irrigation hoses haven't been run yet.  Note to self:  get the hoses out and check them for tears, holes, etc.

Dad:  "I see you watered your plants."
Me: (No, Jeff and God did, but OK.)  "Yep."
Dad:  "Good.  They were looking pretty awful."  
Me:  "No they weren't!  Jeff watered them the day before it rained, Dad."
Dad:  "Huh."
 
The commodities farmers worked literally until the downpours started; their giant tractors with their giant implements stand idle in the middle of swampy fields, waiting for the earth to dry enough to continue disking, harrowing or planting.

(pic?)

In that respect we're lucky - most of the tilling is done.  Now it's handwork for us, and my bare feet sinking into the ground don't leave much of an impression.  Except for the dirt under my toenails, LOL! 



How the Day Really Went  
Note: We didn't get tomatoes planted.  I got some eggplant in instead.  And now -  What Actually Happened on Saturday, May 25th, 2013::::::>

Busted.  Now my readers know that sometimes the post is written in anticipation of the day.  That's because I'm a lot more tired at 4:30 p.m. than at 4:30 a.m.!

Today didn't turn out like we'd planned, obviously.  No tomatoes or melons were interred, er, planted today.  I did get 2 rows of beans and a row of eggplant in, but the rest of the day went to hell in a handbasket.

Oh, well.  That's Life.  Get over it and get on with it.

If you're been reading these posts you'll know we adopted another miniature horse last weekend.  Today the little bastard was caught red-hoofed - literally pulling the fence down with one foot while he stretched his stocky little neck over it to nibble.  "Just like a damned cow!" I thought.

What had alerted me was the screeching sound of fence staples pulling out of a wooden fence post.

The fence didn't actually let go (and upon reflection, I don't think he could have taken it down at all), but I flipped out.  Poor Jeff hadn't finished his second cup of coffee yet, and I was in the door yelling.  

He spent the rest of the day working on the horse pen fence.  I helped, after figuring out that he wanted my help.  I kin bee a littllle slo somtimes.

The fence is bowed at the top, but nowhere near destroyed:

 








Here's Jeff putting in stiffeners, and below is the finished product.  Yes, the turnout shed needs some more paint (sigh).

Looks good, right?  Not quite.  I didn't have the camera on me, but as we were putting the stiffeners in Boo shoved the bottom of the fence out to reach that little bit of grass along the edge.

Those of you who own livestock are yawning, I know.  This is de rigeur for grazers - the grass is always greener (and more plentiful) on the other side. 

I freaked because if Boo got out, Dad would never let me forget it.  He's (legitimately) concerned that one of the horses will get out, get in the road, get hit, and then he will get sued.  It happened to one of our neighbors.

Ah, well.  We've done the best we can.  If he gets out it's the electric fence for them.

Planting Eggplant Starts

I'm using the bulb planter this year to put in the eggplant and pepper starts.  They're still small enough.   A post hole digger is hard on the hands!  Here's a flat of eggplant, ready to go in the ground and the partial row I've already done:

 Bulb planter in the ground:

We have a hole!

Yep, that's me.  Knee pads come in really handy! And - you see that shirt?  It's a man's dress shirt, 100% cotton, thinnest I can find.  Usually it hangs loosely down to my knees to keep me cool, but kneeling I have to tie it up.  The point is I get those shirts at thrift stores and they really do work for keeping me cool.  I just have to put on sunscreen under the shirt.

 Just planted, and it has already turned its face to the sun. 

So, that's the day that didn't work out.  Maybe tomorrow we'll get those tomatoes and melons planted. 




 

And the Rains Came

Boy did the rains come!  The eggplant starts were drowning - I had to go empty their pans several times.  Everybody else drained well but one tomato and one basil fell over, presumably from the pounding.  Gotta stake the tomato.

Sorry the basil's blurry.  The neighbor's dog snuck up behind me and YAPPED just as I pushed the button.  Both of us popped straight up in the air (me with a curse), and I fled for the house.

When I realized it was him I went flying back out the door yelling, "Go home you little bastard!!  And don't BARK at me!!"  Of course, he went - quickly, tail between his legs.

 

Along with the rootbound begonias (haven't had time to put them in), the herbs seem to be happy.  Especially the spearmint on the left, and the rosemary.  The dill is still lying over but it was on the 50% off rack at Lowe's.  I'm going to divide them and see if they'll come back.  Sometime soon.  Really, I will!

 

And here are my 7 day old chicks. They're actually starting to feather out!  The ones on the left look dead but they're just like all babies - they fall asleep where they stand, the bird brains.  And they are bird brains.  They didn't even try to peck the corn cob I put in there.  They use it as a pillow:

 

 Slow days after the rains, waiting for the garden to dry out enough to work the dirt and plant the plants.  More tomorrow, though, when everything should be dry (and I'll be exhausted, LOL).

Living is Made Up of Details

It's 3:04 a.m.  I didn't work outside yesterday because the heat index was in the mid 90s F so I woke up raring to go at this ungodly hour.

I wandered around taking pictures yesterday, though, and here are a few interesting (I hope) tidbits about what's going on.

The Newest Menagerie Member

Welcome Boo Bear!  We're pretty sure he's a Spotted Draft Miniature.  He's freaking gorgeous, and a sweetheart to boot.  Max's jealousy is outweighed by his joy at having a friend.  Even so, there was squealing and kicking and so forth until they established that:
1.  They are both MALES.  Nobody's gonna get laid.
2.  Somebody's in charge.  (I'm not sure who, just yet, but I suspect it's Max.)

 

We don't know anything about Boo, really, except that he's at least 6 years old, about 50 lb. overweight, and about 2" too tall to technically be a mini unless Spotted Drafts can be taller than 33".  He was abandoned by the people next door to the people we got him from - ironically, about a mile and a half down the road.  We've been looking for a companion for Max for years. Looks like Boo is it.  He's overweight - I almost swallowed my tongue when I found the lady had been feeding him sweet feed.  Minis will literally eat themselves to death! And I don't know if it's age or weight or a combination, but he has a hard time rising from lying down.  That's OK - we'll work that fat off him!  If we ever go the eco-tourism route, these two are the beginnings of our petting zoo/pony rides.

Friday night's conversation:

Me:  "Oh, yeah - um, Dad, I need to tell you something."

Dad:  "What?"

Me:  "Um, yeah, well, we're getting another miniature horse.  I've been given one as a companion for Max."

Dad:  (Silence.  Not even a grunt!  Uh-oh.)

Me:  "Dad?"

Dad:  "Guess we really ought to get the middle of the barn cleaned out so you can store hay in there.  I'll talk to my friend up the road about his Bermuda hay."
Me:  (WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY FATHER????) "Thanks, Dad, that would be great!"

Dad thinks that all farm animals are evil and will get out and get hit by a car and he will get sued.  I guess Max managed to change his mind since he hasn't gotten out once since we got here 2 years ago.

Where Does Our Cow Poo Come From?

 I know, who gives a sh-t.  Pun intended.  But you might find it interesting that right now it comes from a two-foot-thick layer accumulated over about 25 years, in the perimeter of the barn:

Getting it out of there is done with a shovel.  Jeff hates shoveling it but it's good stuff for the plants. The row of Quik Pik seeds on the right under the string has been covered with it (there's a line of slight color variation.).  Good stuff - those peas will come rocketing up.  It was so hot Saturday that I had to literally down tools and get inside before I passed out so the row on the left doesn't have any yet.

Pecans Update

We had a brief discussion of the upcoming pecan crop.  Dad goes out to the orchards every morning and evening with the binoculars, keeping an eagle eye on the trees and what's going on.  The nuts are beginning to form.  We're not the only ones keeping a sharp eye on the orchards - people are already calling about coming to gather pecans.

Friday night's conversation:
Dad:  "Lisa, I'm worried about the pecan pollen."
Me:  (Why, Dad, does it need to ride the short bus??)  "What do you mean?"
Dad:  "I just don't think we're going to get enough pollen to have a good crop."
Me:  (Are you kidding??  Everything is green with pollen - the cars, our clothes, my eyeballs...) 
      "Do you really think so?  Jeff picked up a tassel and now his shirt has green splotches."
~ followed by an informative (seriously) lecture about pecans and the pollination thereof, especially the Stewart heirloom variety as pollinated by the Desirable variety, wind speed and direction, etc. ~
Conclusion:  Dad doesn't think he's going to get the bumper crop we think he's going to get.

Saturday morning:
Dad:  "Lisa, I think we might be OK after all."  He pointed out the tassels, which must turn brown-ish before they release the pollen.  They're turning brown-ish.
Me:  "Dad, have you thought about how you're going to get rid of all of these pecans?  If we get just 100 lb. per tree, that's 20,000 pounds of nuts.  Are you going to sell them wholesale, or cleaned, or what?"
Dad:  "I haven't thought that far ahead yet."
Me:  (Aaargh.)

Starts and Plantings and Chicken Coop, Oh My!

When you start plants in the house, the climate is controlled.  Before you put them in the garden, they have to be "hardened off".  We call it "suntanning."  Here's the first bunch of plants getting their first tans of the year.  

Yes, I'm ashamed to say that's the front of my house.  When garden time rolls around, we're overrun with gardening supplies, plants, etc. 

Unless I can find somebody with a great big heart to do it for me, we don't have time for housecleaning (in or out).  When we get a greenhouse or big shed things will be better.

Note to self:  Don't put eggplant up against the porch to harden off.  It's under the dripline.  Or do put gutters on the house!

 

The melon patch is almost tilled.  It's in the old dog yard, which is the new chicken yard. 

The melon patch will have another 2 or 3 passes with the tiller perpendicular to the ones already done.  I have 4 varieties of melons to plant!

I'm thinking about lining the inside of the melon patch fence with landscape fabric to keep the vines out of the horse pasture.  I dunno if we have enough fabric, though. 

I took the melon patch pic, then turned around 180 degrees and shot the coop area. Jeff and Doug haven't got the ground leveled yet but it goes in the deep shade under this black walnut.

Chickens have to have water (duh) plus I have to have a way to hose out the coop.  Here's a pic of the mulberry tree growing in the fencerow, along with miles of honeysuckle.  Somewhere in there...

 ... or in here ...

  

...or in here ...

 

 ... is the hose standpipe!  (Wouldn't that last pic make a hair-tearing jigsaw puzzle?)  BTW, the honeysuckle is delicious this year.  All that rain made it produce oodles of nectar.

Finally, just a couple more passes with the big mower and the north-north garden behind the barn will be ready for tilling. It's the area behind the two trees in the foreground and this is where the ornamental corn and pumpkins are going.  We can't plant edibles here because of pesticide overspray from the pecans to the left:

Squash Update

Remember the pix from last week?  Well, guess what?  We're going to have squash to sell before the farmer's market even opens.  They're forming blossoms already:

That's what happens when you plant squash in composted steer manure.  (Crud, I need to weed the squash area.)

3 uncommon varieties.  All prolific producers.  Anybody want some squash??  We'll be setting up the honor stand here in the next few days; the oats have protected the lettuce so well that we've still got lots of it, too.  Visit That Little Farm Stand to see when we'll have it open.


Now it's time to wake up the Scruffy man, and get started on the day.  Happy Tuesday, everybody!

All Work and No Play...

It was foggy and drizzly this Saturday a.m. so we spent the morning potting tomato starts.  Urgh.

In 3-1/2 hours Jeff potted up 89 tomato plants of 2 varieties:  57 Jersey Giants, a rare heirloom sauce tomato, and 32 Riesentraube, a wildly prolific red cherry tomato.

Then it was lunchtime.  Then the real work began because the sun was out and everything was drying up.

Tilling.  Jeff and I took turns.

When the north garden patch was finished we said "Forget this!" and went skinny-dipping down at the pond to cool off.

 
Don't bother looking for naked people; this is an old pic.  We've got an outdoor fireplace, beautiful park-like grass, and a grill down there now.

Of course Dad had to come toodling along on his mower so the three of us got dressed in a hurry.  We're naturists, you see, so nude is our preferred manner of (un)dress.

OK, gotta cook dinner.  Here's today's chick photo:

 (No, I got it off the web, silly!  Tomorrow's post will have the real deal.)

Fluffy Yellow Chicks

7:30 a.m., my new iPhone rings.  I can't figure out how to answer it so I grab my bluetooth, turn it on and stick it in my ear.

Me:  "Hello?" "Hello?"
Post office lady:  "Is this Lisa Owens?"
Me:  "Yes, it is."
Post office lady: "Your chicks are here. Do you want to come get them?"
Me:  (hand covering microphone) "YAHOO!" then thinking No, lady, I want to leave them there so you can take care of them. Sheesh.
Me: "Yes, I'll come get them right away."
Post office lady:  "OK, then." in a see-that-you-do tone of voice.

I could hear them cheeping rather loudly in the background.  Chick season must drive the post office staff nuts.  I know they drove us nuts during the 20 minute drive home.

Bear with me - I want to document that everything went A-OK, so here's the box, and my brooder setup:

They're pretty big birdies, so I'll have to split them into different boxes as they grow.  Crowding is bad for them.



Here they are in the brooder.  They look like they're cold but they were just taking a break from playing "Chick Pinball".

Yes, chicks will eat fermented feed.  They just had to figure out that the feed isn't the red thing, it's IN the red thing:

And here's one of my homemade waterers.  I took a standard waterer, flipped it upside down, drilled holes, installed horizontal nipples, and macramed the thing to hang from the brooder top.  I made the other two out of a couple of Wally World's big creamer bottles.  This one is actually sitting on the catch basin right now but will be raised as the chicks grow.  At this point (5 minutes in the brooder) there are either 2 or 3 who have figured out how it works, or one that keeps coming back for water.  I don't know which:

I remembered something when I saw the chicks going for the catch basin (it's covered with a foil grill pan bent around a plate):  Don't use foil unless you want the chicks to peck at it instead of the thing sitting on it!

I'll be posting a pic every day so you can see how fast the little buggers grow.  Day 1 Chick:

Now I have to go add more feed; they're standing on their heads in the holes trying to reach it.  Jeff & Doug really do have to get the chicken tractor built soon - in just 4 or 5 short weeks they'll be ready to go outside!

Hot Damn! A Hot Day!

I'm so proud of myself I could pop.  I was actually outside working in the garden at 7 a.m.  No kidding.

Of course, it was a slow start.  I forgot the camera.  I forgot the water.  I had to go back for the oat seed.  Anybody who knows me well knows I don't get out of bed before 10 a.m. unless I absolutely have to - been a night owl all my life.

Dad: "Well, what are you doing?"
Me:  "Well, what does it look like I'm doing?"
Dad: "Well, it kinda looks like you're working in the garden."
Me:  "Well, right now I'm walking back to the house to get the camera."
Dad: "Well, are you gonna go back and work in the garden?"
Me:  "Well, yeah."
Dad:  "Huh."

But I actually got stuff done before it got too hot.  We knocked off at about 11:30 when it hit 88° F.  We went back out when it cooled off this evening.

I got cukes planted, and 200 feet of okra.  I got oat seed scattered among the okra rows.  There are no pix of a fat redhead with a red face bent over poking seed in the ground, sorry.  My Amish-style seeder croaked on me so I was doing it by hand. Urgh.

I also looked for the peas in the midst of their lovely living trellis and thought, "Hmmm - maybe not plant so much oats/so close next year?"

The peas are in there.  Somewhere.  Along with some weeds.  I think I'll send a letter to the person who posted that the oats will also keep weeds out.

Jeff and Doug finished repairs to the faucet that will irrigate the north garden.  There aren't any pix because that's when I realized I'd left the camera in the house, and before I could get back with it they had the faucet repaired, the leader hose run through the PVC and the whole shebang buried.  !!

Jeff is the tiller man. Here's a pretty cool pic of the tiller just as the tines start to revolve - dirt goes flying:

That Kubota tractor is only used with the tiller.  It's tiny; Jeff's 6'2" and he makes it look like a riding mower (aka "lawn tractor", which is one of those monikers that makes me giggle. As if the cidiots in their McMansions would ever own anything as cool as a tractor!).

 Jeff's re-tilling an area that he tilled yesterday, when it was actually too wet - we ended up with clods.  It's still kinda wet as you can see from the mudball I made:

In the background is a really good shot of the difference between rough-tilled (left) and finish-tilled (right).  I threw the clod at Jeff but missed...:)

Then I sat on one of the cedar retention logs the guys hauled up out of the field somewhere, and it rolled.  I fell on my ass.  Jeff laughed.  I threw another dirt clod at him, and then I put him to work staking the logs:

As you can see, THAT was a lot of work.  Isn't that dirt pretty?  It's nowhere near black enough but we work with what we've got.

Then Doug went to work pulling creeper (which we are all allergic to except Dad, whose skin is like tanned hide anyway) because that's where the produce-washing station is going in:

Doug's got a nice strong back, the most gorgeous blue eyes and a great tan.  He rides his bike shirtless. I can't say enough good things about him.  He's our best friend and my other husband.  Sort of.  No, not like that!

Here's a long shot of Jeff tilling the rest of the 50' x 100' north garden:

That hose on the right is what's left of a 250' piece that Dad hit with the mower last year.  Oh yeah.  There's a post about that too, over at This 'n That.  The hose got lost in the weeds.

And finally, here's me in the late afternoon, working on the south garden.  It's the big one - 75' x 110'. Here I come:

And there I go.

 When I'm done with the south garden there's the melon patch in the old dog yard, and the pumpkin patch behind the barn...

That's for another day, though.  I'm tired and happy.  Bet I'll sleep well tonight!