5,4,3,2...1.....

It’s almost THAT time of year again. I heard the little ticking start with the start of daylight savings time. (no…don’t get me started on that one) It’s getting louder and louder and LOUDER. I’m really surprised that no one else can hear it. Even the Boss says he can’t hear it. I guess he doesn’t have to…I keep telling him all about it.

I’ve written about the sense of urgency that the countdown to the Market creates in my mind. You can read about it ...here...

Oddly enough, despite years of experience, I always face the Opening Day with more than a little consternation. I know the folks will come out, I know we will have things to sell, I know that we will sell the things to the folks who came…but,…I still find myself worrying and making lists and scurrying around doing “last minute” things. At least this keeps the Boss amused…

Looking back over last year’s notes, I find that in some ways we are far ahead of last year. We’ve already purchased the potatoes…and even planted some. But, all my “off-season” cleaning and organizing still needs doing. Ugh! The freezers still need de-frosting and the cooler needs a good going over.

We have one more week of “winter sales” before I can clean out the trailer, re-stock supplies and call that job DONE. We’ve had a great “off-season”…and our customers are AWESOME!



The crops in the hoophouse are ahead of last year. That’s a definite plus.

 The lettuce is looking gorgeous!

The freezer still has a fair amount of lamb chops, roasts and sausage waiting for Opening day.

This is great! …and we should have broilers for week #4 of the Market!

Thrown into this year’s mix is the new downtown Wednesday morning Market at the Wharf. Since the Boss is managing this Market (as well as Saturday) we aren’t real sure how this will affect the logistics of the farm. For now, he’s going to concentrate on managing the Market…and I’ll keep things rolling here on the farm. I’ll be doing chores, tending the greenhouses/hoophouses, weeding and possibly harvesting some crops…

Oh, wow… I need to make more lists!

Ya Just Gotta Know Where to Look

As I headed out to pick the spinach for Winter Sales last week, the Boss said rather dubiously, “ya sure you’ll have enough?” I glibly assured him that “OF COURSE! I know what I’m doing….I been doin’ this a long time, ya know.”

When I got to the hoophouse, I began to have second thoughts.

Good night! Look at the weeds! Where WAS the spinach?

Oh dear! …and I promised ALL those customers…

The ongoing battle with the chickweed seemed to be a lost cause in a couple of the spinach beds, so I was on a salvage mission. After getting what I could, I would pull the rest of the plants, and the chickens would have a feast.

Then the Boss would come through and torch the remaining plants in hopes of killing the nasty weeds.

After everything was dead, he would till and I could replant.

At least that was the plan. But, first...I had orders to fill…

At first glance, it appeared that the chickweed had indeed won the battle.

However, …ya just gotta know where to look!…and I do “know what I am doing, have been doing it a long time” Oh, boy…why do I say these things?(it’s okay, you can laugh now….really!)

After a fair amount of time, and several buckets of weeds to the chickens, I was able to fill all the orders with some very nice spinach.

Ya just gotta know where to look…....and be willing to pull a lot of weeds!

This Week on the Hill 3-18

Wow, what a change from last week! This week was warm and beautiful and it felt so good to work outside. But, even the weeds are pretty!

We got some of the potatoes planted. We have two more plantings planned for the Spring crop.

The broccoli/cauliflower and cabbage are waiting their turn to go in the garden.

The lettuce is looking absolutely gorgeous! …and it tastes SO good!

The broilers have finally reached the “eating machine” stage. Not quite 3 weeks old…but, growing fast!

The lambs are incredibly anxious for grass. That’s job #1 this week.

The peach trees are blooming.

Hmmm, this could be a problem …but, we’ll just hope for a frost-free Spring!

The countdown to the Opening day of the Market has begun in earnest. It is less than 3 weeks now.

…and the upcoming week is the official start of SPRING!

An Unexpected Harvest

Part of my afternoon chore routine is completely predictable. The ram and the hens, neither known for their great brain power, can predict my actions with uncanny accuracy. That fact alone, should alert everyone to the complete predictability of the routine. All my actions have come to be expected.

First, I walk out back to feed the ram. He is pacing and calling as I walk through the garden gate.

On the way back, I stop in the hoophouse to turn off the water. If it’s cold, I need to close the hoophouses. If it’s warm, I simply need to check that while the water was running, it was only irrigating and not flooding. So, I walk through #1, up through # 2, toss the chickens some sort of little treat, and walk on to the barn.

The hens were congregating by the fence in anticipation.
The “little treats” were becoming somewhat sparse. Most of the plants are gone from the gardens and the Boss has done a wonderful job getting all the weeds out of the hoophouse. So, I veered of the usual path to find some goodies for the hens.

Hey, there are some gnarly old cabbage plants. After the cabbage is cut, a bunch of little leaves will form on the “stump”. These will never form more cabbages, but the chickens enjoy the tender little leaves. Wait a minute…this one’s not so gnarly after all! Further investigation revealed that despite the somewhat ugly outer appearance, there were actually a good number of viable cabbages left in the garden. Sorry, chickens.

I pulled a few spent plants for the hens, and took a couple of nice cabbages to the house, returning later to harvest the rest. Not a huge harvest…but, not bad for being totally unexpected. Sometimes there is a positive outcome to those jobs that somehow never got completed …and just in time for St. Patrick’s Day, too. I dunno…cabbage and Saint Paddy’s…yeah, they just go together.

We will enjoy some Colcannon potatoes for sure…
and maybe use a couple for coleslaw or fried cabbage. …and guess what we will have to offer for the last week of Winter Sales!

Guess there’s something to be said for the unexpected, the break with routine. You never know what you might find.
Perhaps this will lead me to be just a little less predictable. (oh never mind…the hens and ram wouldn’t know what to do!)

Spring is Spreadin'

I got a picture text the other evening that made me laugh out loud.



“Chillin’ in the tractor…waitin’ for my load of poop to be loaded.”





Yes, that’s the kind of texts I get…you mean you don’t?

As I texted back and forth, I found out that she and the hubs were getting a load of “fertilizer” for the garden and hauling it to their home with the tractor. I just assumed she was at her in-laws…they have turkey houses and run a cow-calf operation in the north end of the county…and a lot of tractors. There are few things finer to my country daughter than driving (or even riding) a big tractor through the countryside.

It’s that time of year here in the Valley. With the first warm stretch and the promise of more to come, field work begins in earnest. That includes the hauling and spreading of the “fertilizer” that the cows, chickens and turkeys have been producing throughout the winter.

It’s also the time of year when those who “aren’t from around here” start to complain about the stench. I must say, eau du cologne it ain’t…but, that’s the smell of money, that’s the smell of successful crops…and, my friend, the smell of an integral part of the food supply.

The look on her face, the smilies in her texts were indicative of the deep love she has for the country life…smells and all. It seemed too coincidental, too ironic, not to mention the story I had been thinking about when I saw the first of many spreader trucks roll down M’brook Road that morning.

Years ago, when the girls were tiny, we were visiting in the north end of the county. (the exact same area from which she sent the text) There are LOTS of poultry houses down that way. R’ham County is the biggest producer of poultry in the state. There are poultry houses on almost every farm in that area of the world. The place we were visiting was surrounded by fields, and spreading was in full swing. One of my daughters, in a fit of true “girliness” walked outside and complained “phew, it’s stinky! What’s that? Ooo, it’s stinky!”

A little neighbor boy, whose dad worked for the neighboring turkey/cattle farm, said in an important tone, “Aw, that ain’t nothin’…it’s just turkey s**t, y’all!” In true little boy fashion, he repeated it over and over and over, trying to get that prissy little girl to understand that this was just part of everyday life. He only let up when someone finally said “Okay, Junior, okay….let’s talk about something else!” When the initial shock of his statement wore off, I tried not to giggle. The inappropriateness of the comment, combined with the complete truth of it was laughable. I can only assume he heard his dad say it. Around here, you say it like it is….and well, that’s what it is.

The irony of the story is that…yes, you guessed it, THAT daughter is the one haulin’ the “fertilizer”! That just cracks me up every time I think about it!

The fact that every spring about this time the spreader trucks start rolling is just one bit of evidence of farmers know and appreciate the cycle that is necessary to continue to produce food in an efficient, affordable way. I would hope that the newcomers to the area would come to know and appreciate the hardworking, creative folks who make their living farming and provide everyone with their basic needs. Everybody should admire those men (and possibly women) who drive the spreader trucks!

Animal waste products are the best source for fertilization. By using these natural products, synthetic fertilizers are not necessary to keep healthy plants growing. This keeps things “green” in more ways than one. Without healthy plants and animals, we would all be cold, naked and hungry. It takes large amounts of everything to produce shelter, clothing and food for the masses. Any time a natural farm byproduct can be put to good use, and create a better growing situation, it is better for the environment…and better for all of us.

When poultry litter is spread on a hay field, the crop is bigger and better than if no fertilization is applied. That in turn means a bigger, better cattle (or lamb) crop. When the dairy slurry is applied to grain fields, it means those crops are bigger and better, too. This directly affects the feed supply for the next poultry crop…and the cycle continues.

If it’s Spring….someone’s spreadin’! The farmers are doing their best to provide a healthy hay, corn, grain, grass, bean, and vegetable crop for the 2012 season.

When you think about it…you just gotta love that smell!

End of an Era

It’s time to admit it…she’s gone. As mysteriously as she appeared all those years ago, she has now disappeared. I need to get beyond expecting to find her somewhere. She’s just gone. Gone, but not forgotten.

I guess I should begin at the beginning...

It wasn’t too long after we moved here on the hill that we saw her for the first time. A small, black cat was stealing a piece of buttered bread from the bucket of scraps for the chickens on the back porch. It didn’t matter to her that the homemade butter was way “past its prime” and someone had decided it wasn’t worth eating. No, this kitty was very pregnant and very hungry.

We saw her more often as it got closer to the time for the kittens. She became my little companion in the milking stall, waiting patiently for me to fill her small bowl with milk when I was finished my task. I learned that despite what you hear, or see in the movies, some cats do NOT like to be squirted with milk.

She became a permanent barn fixture and had her second batch of kittens INSIDE the stack of hay bales. Later, as they came out of their kitty nest, you could see their little eyes peering out curiously through the bales. As they became bigger, they tumbled out, playing endlessly as only kittens can. We kept a couple of the kittens to be barn kitties with their mom. A trip to the vet put an end to the “kitten factory”.


With kitten rearing behind her, Miss Kitty was a regular part of the farm team. She would follow me to any part of the garden and sit and “talk” while I worked. Sometimes she would complain, other times she would just “mert” in a contented way. If she got hot, she would lie down under the shade of the plants until I was finished, and then escort me to the next job. The girls often referred to her as the supervisor, because she would invariably show up for any outside job with some type of comment.

She outlived her offspring, and then became house cat for a while. In the midst of a very cold, snowy spell, she was bitten by something and both her eyes were swollen shut. The Boss took pity on her and she came inside.
She got used to it very quickly, and kept my feet warm on many a cold night. Actually, she kept everything warm. It was amazing how something so small could generate so much heat.

Eventually, she moved back outside; where she took charge of the barn once more. There never was a mouser like “mama-cat”.

She tolerated the arrival of Jed. They never quite bonded, but she didn’t seem to mind him. Ellie’s arrival was a different story. Apparently, Ellie had been taught that cats were the consummate evil, and she wanted to eat Miss Kitty. After I went all “alpha wolf” on Ellie (just one time) they quickly learned to co-exist. The appearance of Squeekie was another adjustment, but nothing that “mama-cat” couldn’t take in stride. When Squeekie had her kittens, Miss Kitty took over the role of tolerant granny cat. Although, she didn’t hesitate to swat a badly behaved youngster. In her twilight years, she was treated with near kindness by Ellie Mae.

The older she got, the more time she spent in the warmth and relative safety of the hoophouse. She would sleep in a little nest in an old hayfeeder in the barn, and then wander to the hoophouse for the sun after breakfast. It was unusual to walk in the hoophouse without her coming to greet me with her friendly little “mert” sound.

Fifteen years is a long time. It’s even longer if you’re talking about a barn cat. For some time, we have watched her failing health with the sad knowledge that “the time” was fast approaching. There was nothing that could be done…she was just an old, old cat. We could make her as comfortable as possible, grant her easy access to food, water and shelter…but, that was all.

Recently, she had become so frail and seemingly senile, I figured she would just fade away there in the hoophouse, and we would find her one morning. However, that was not to be…

Monday, she went missing. I have looked high and low, searched the farm from top to bottom. She is nowhere to be found. So, we assume she went off somewhere to die.

This makes me sad, sadder than I care to admit. While death on the farm is a given, and we even choose it for some of the animals, it is not without a great deal of consideration. In the case of the pets and breeding stock, the sense of loss is enormous.

I never had a pet for as long as the time Miss Kitty lived here on the farm. I never had an animal make it apparent that I was “its person”. “Mert” granted me a lot of comfort during some hard times here on the farm when she would show up at let me snuggle with her when things were going very, very wrong. …she had the softest fur ever…

While I never would have picked a small, pure black cat with one white whisker to be my special pet, I was touched by the companionship she so willingly offered me.

So long little furry friend…I really wish I knew what happened to you…I hope that we indeed did all we could to be good stewards.

It will be a long time before I go in the hoophouse without expecting to hear that little “mert” of greeting. And, the barn seems just a little emptier.

RIP Miss Kitty. You will be missed.

JR's Fancy Salad

We had a wonderful lunch with friends the other day.

We had gone to pick up a load of hay, and they fed us a home-grown, home-made lunch. Boy, did we feel special! I like to visit other farming operations, we always learn something. But, when you get lunch, too…wooowee!



JR made this beautiful salad that looked worthy of a fancy restaurant. It was SO pretty and spring-like that I just wanted to gaze upon it for a while. (a short while….I was hungry) However, I cannot seem to remember that we have gone “high-tech” and that I always have a camera whenever I have my phone, so I didn’t photograph it.

That is my re-creation of said salad. It is made of Claytonia, red onion, a boiled egg and sunflower seeds. The original salad was far prettier, but you get the idea.

This led me to think of Claytonia, which may just be my favorite winter green.

The first time I ever heard anyone mention Claytonia was back when we first started doing the Market. There was this vendor at the Market who referred to herself as “the crazy lettuce lady”. She grew the most gorgeous lettuce mix and for the first couple of Markets, she had this pretty little green that she added to the mix. It had heart-shaped leaves and pretty little white flowers. I was intrigued. Why, that is Claytonia….miners’ lettuce…and you HAVE to try it!


Claytonia perfoliata, or miners’ lettuce, is a lowly weed from the West Coast, more specifically the mountains of California. The story goes that the ‘49ers (the miners, NOT the football team) found that if they ate it during the winters, it provided a great deal of Vitamin C and scurvy was no longer a problem. There are 26 related plants in the family, all sharing some similarities. It is most often eaten raw, although cooked it is said to taste like spinach.

Claytonia has a delicate crunch, a sweet taste (not unlike an apple) and a whole host of nutrients. It grows fairly easily, overwinters fabulously, and re-seeds itself (sometimes…and not always where we want it). The only down-side to this crop is that it does NOT, not even a little, like hot weather. A few warm days and it will bolt. That’s when the pretty white flowers become evident. This is fine for a short while, but when the nights are warm, the pretty little flowers extend into long seed pods and it’s time to move to the summer, heat tolerant greens in the hoophouse.

So, Bon Appetit!

…and friends, we owe y'all a lunch.