7.5 lbs. of Rosemary

Two of our Christmas gift highlights this year are the rosemary tree and the food scale that my parents got for us. We love fresh herbs and we grow a ton during the summer, but we once again we dropped the ball on starting herbs indoors or preserving herbs to use for the winter. While we occasionally scavenge some thyme from the garden, we usually don't bother running out in the dark at dinner time to find it. We also got a pretty awesome food scale that goes up to 25 pounds–much more convenient than the 2 pound scale we have now. Though we don't have a specific number of pounds in mind as a production goal, we like to keep track of what we grow every year.

Where Crushed Red Pepper Comes From

Just before the first frost we pulled up our remaining hot pepper plants so we could dry them out. They didn't seem to be changing much at first, but as soon as we turned the heat on in the house they shriveled up real quick. Now the peppers are at the point where they shatter when they fall on the floor, so yesterday Kelly started harvesting the dry ones. He's gotten about a quart so far, and there is probably another quart left on the plants. He plans to mush them up with a mortar and pestle to make extra spicy pepper flakes.

Compost Update

The leaves in our chicken composter are ready to be hauled out. As you can see in the top photo, the chickens did a remarkable job of shredding, stomping, shitting, etc. I like seeing the contrast between the leaves in the pen to those just on the other side of the fence. Once we pull this load of leaves, I believe we will fill the pen again with the leaves we acquired yesterday from our neighbor. The two rounds of chicken-pen-leaves plus the 100 gallons of compost (bottom photo) from earlier in the year should last us through all of next year. I know that we plan to cover all of our beds with a couple inches at planting time and the rest will probably be used when we rotate the crops come late summer.

Jackpot

We arrived home from Pittsburgh to find a note from Chris, our landlord, stuck in our door: "Meg and Kelly, Tom [a neighbor] has many bags of leaves waiting by his garage to be taken if you're interested. Too much for me to carry alone." This afternoon when we came back from the grocery store there was another: "There are now more than 13 bags of leaves in Tom's yard (As of 3:02PM)."

We are always interested in getting more leaves for our ongoing compost projects and Chris seemed especially intent on us picking up leaves from Tom (whose German shepherd was once attacked and chased away by our chickens, incidentally), so this afternoon we dragged the yard cart up the road to get them. We ended up with twenty huge bags of leaves, and there are still about ten big piles on the ground in Tom's yard waiting for us if we want them. We're stashing them near the shed until we find a drier home for them, and in the spring they'll be turned into piles of nice new compost.

Bright Side of a Gloomy Ride

This isn't the greatest photo, but since I took it while hanging out the window in high winds as we flew down the Turnpike I think it can be excused. We like seeing these windmills not only because they're environmentally friendly (aside from any bird-dicing they may cause) but also because they're close to a halfway point on the arduous trek across the state. They're near Somerset, PA, and when they started running in 2001 they made the largest wind farm in the US–pretty cool, but I don't think that's the case anymore. Here's a link with more info and some better pictures.

Beaver Blogging: Herding Cats

We can't have a dog where we live now, but eventually we'd like some kind of smart, rugged dog that can live outside and hang out with and watch over our animals.


This is Molly. She's a Corgi. Corgis are wicked smaht dogs. They're good watchdogs and they're great at herding, so you can teach them a lot of stuff. Judi and Dan take Molly on walks around Beaver, and since she knows the route she doesn't need a leash. A few weeks ago Dan was walking with her and she ran ahead a bit, stopped, and started pointing with her nose like a hunting dog. Dan thought she saw a squirrel, but when he got closer he saw that she was pointing at their cat, Sammy, who had gotten out of the house and was apparently hanging out in a park a half mile from home. Dan told Molly to get the cat and Molly did her herding dog thing, rounding up Sammy and driving her over to Dan, who told them to go home. The three of them marched back to the house, with Molly keeping the cat in line the whole time.

We need a dog like that to keep our chickens in line.

Beaver Blogging: Big Town Compost

While working on the Jeep we noticed a very large and curious piece of machinery in one of the garage bays. We asked Dan for the info and he said that it is the borough's leaf shredder. Apparently this thing is strong enough to suck bricks (and one very unlucky cat) off the pavement. What's really cool is that they take the leaves to a site right outside of the town and make the compost available to anyone in the borough who's interested.

Beaver Blogging: Grandpa's German Tomatoes

Meg and I are carrying on a bit of history in our garden. Many years ago my grandfather received some tomato seeds from a neighbor of his and has been growing them ever since. His neighbor said they were German tomatoes and had little information on them beyond that. Last year my grandfather gave us some of those seeds.

We unfortunately never took any pictures of the plants we grew this year,but we'll be sure to next year. The photo on the left is one my grandfather took of a plant from two years ago. They are big and man do they produce.

The tomatoes are real meaty and only have one vein of seeds. They're great for slicing and stewing.

The top photo is one Meg took today in my grandfather's living room. I'm on the left and my brother Derrek is on the right. For those of you who are wondering whether the photo is bad or my grandfather is drunk, let me point out the empty glass in his right hand. The old gardener was feeling good to see his grand kids.

Beaver Blogging: Haulin'

A while ago Kelly and I sold our crummy old cars and bought a Jeep–since we can both take the train to work we only need one car, so we decide to get a rugged one that we can have forever and use for garden stuff. Judi and Dan got us a brand spankin' shiny new tow package for Christmas, so on Saturday night we took advantage of Dan's access to the Beaver Borough garage and went to get it installed. We put the Jeep up on the lift and raised it up:

And then we dumped out all the tow hitch pieces to see what was what.


Then Kelly and I messed around with some nuts and bolts.

Until Dan and Derrek and their actual knowledge of cars came to get some real work done.


Meanwhile, we found this super tall funnel on wheels and changed the oil. If you don't have a big industrial mechanics' lift and a super tall funnel on wheels, I recommend that you get both immediately.

It's really so much easier.


Also, you should get a 55-gallon drum full of oil so you don't have to run out for quart bottles every time you need an oil change.


And while we drained out the old oil, Dan and Derrek got the bar on and installed the wiring.


And then all we had to do was stick the pretty new hitch on.

And now we're ready to steal an abandoned trailer and haul some stuff.

Beaver Blogging: Wonder Boys

If you've ever seen the movie Wonder Boys, then you may recognize these first two photos. The house is the childhood home of Grady Tripp's soon to be ex-wife (remember? it's the part when Toby McGuire has to squeeze the doggy door). The middle photo is of the park that is right across the street from the house. This view is seen from the perspective of Michael Douglas looking at Toby as he (Toby) points out the imprint of a butt on the hood of his car.

The last photo is of the Beaver borough garage. My mother's husband, Dan, is in charge of the facility and has a foot note to the scene I just mentioned. This shot was taken just a bit down the road from the house where they were filming. This just so happens to also be the same spot that Michael Douglas, in between shots, drove golf balls onto the roof of the borough garage. Dan said that what ensued was a series of expletives shouted by the borough workers to a bent-over-laughing Douglas.

Side note: The author of Wonder Boys, Michael Chabon is a Pittsburgh native. They just finished turning another of his books, "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh," into a movie, which should be out soon.

Beaver Blogging: Tree Dudes

We're in Beaver, PA for the week, and since holiday stuff isn't yet in full swing, we went for a little hike around town today. We ran into a couple of cool tree carvings. Apparently a local guy with a chainsaw makes them. We don't know what effect they have on live trees, but they look cool.

The Burgh

In a few hours Meg and I will be heading across the state to spend the Christmas holiday with my family. Unfortunately our families live far enough apart that visiting both is unreasonable. We decided the most logical thing to do is switch where we go each year.

Steveo said that he will take care of the chickens while we're gone. We learned quickly that if you want any kind of farm animal, and you want to go somewhere for more than a day, then you need a sitter. I'm not sure how garden-focused our blog can be while on the road, but we'll be sure to share some info of our travels just the same.

Local vs. Organic

There is an interesting conversation going on at Garden Punks that is addressing the argument of "What is Organic?" I dig the spirit of the post, but what has caught my attention is what was said in the comments left by Patrick and Life and Lawns.

The question I think that is being addressed, is what makes something organic and is it REALLY organic. Quite honestly, Meg and I feel the whole "Certified Organic" thing is a load of bullshit, specifically for reasons Patrick had brought to light. Certified Organic is a USDA regulated tag and I'm sure it's pretty safe to say that they're readily influenced by some shady lobbyists.

Meg and I are very organic-minded in our lives and in our garden (if you could separate the two), but as consumers we find the organic/green tag to be nothing more than just a tag. What the hell am I getting at? Try this on: if you have to make the choice, is it better to buy organic, or local? Personally I would have to go with local. Although I like the taste and politics of an organic avocado from Trader Joe's, the fact that it was shipped in from Peru doesn't help the environment a damn bit (Meg's words).

Tiny Farm Blog put up a post today that I think brings together the best of both worlds. I dig his dedication to sustainability and earth friendly practices. Side note: he is Certified Organic, but he's growing in Canada so I'm not entirely familiar with their regulations. After reading his blog for the past six months or so, I'm guessing certified organic there means you're pretty kick ass.

To bring this back into Garden Punks's original post about organic beer, I would have to say I would prefer to go local. Fortunately we have a kick ass brewery right down the road (it's seriously like only three miles, max). If you ever run across a bar that serves Victory, I highly recommend a hearty sampling. Warning: If the Victory beer you're drinking is Golden Monkey or Old Horizontal, please don't drive. I swear the stuff will make you hallucinate.

Watermelon? Check.

One of the funniest things about being a chicken owner is watching their reaction to new food. As I've complained often enough, all our squash was wiped out this past season and that included our watermelons. At the end of the season we had some half ripened melons on the verge of mush in the garden and I sliced one open with a shovel to investigate the insides. It actually looked pretty good, but I would be damned if we were going to eat it. So, what do you do with questionable produce?

You see if the chickens will eat it!

I'll tell you what, I love our chickens, but man they are dumber than a bag of hammers. When I threw the melon halves in their pen, they looked at the fruit quizzically for maybe a moment before one voluntarily buried their beak into the red frosty flesh. (I wonder how they figure who the Guinea pig is. Is it decided over a mental game of paper-rock-scissors?) After the first took a bite and didn't die immediately (hmm, intelligence? nah) the others joined in. What followed looked like a pack of feathered alligators eating a gazelle.

While Huffing Sage

I have no idea how to introduce this post...
I was gathering some sage and thyme this afternoon for a batch of cabbage and potato soup. Although this is all we have going on in our garden, other than some root veggies, I do like to hang out in there and mentally map out our possible plant rotation.

So there I was, huffing sage, staring off into space, cogitated, when I realized, "Man we are going to need a shitload of nasturtium seeds." You see, our squashes (oh yeah, all of them) were eradicated by squash bugs. After the disaster we discovered that nasturtiums are great companions to squash plants, specifically to keep away these types of pests. As I was daydreaming about our garden for next year I realized that we are planning to have a good deal of squash in all sorts of varieties. Since the squash bug will suck on anything in the squash family I figured that we were going to need, you got it, a shitload of nasturtiums.

Meg and I have been trying our best to save seeds this year and have done fairly well in our quest. Now most of our garden is cleared out and turned, but there are some flowerbed corpses that still have not been scoured for seeds. I ventured to the shade garden area to see if I could scrounge up some yellow-nasturtium seeds, but soon realized that I really wasn't too thrilled with digging through all kinds of frozen debris for little brain-looking seeds. However, I did manage to grab a few more cardinal climber seeds (pictured above) that were dangling nearby.

Everybody Knows It's Windy

Since there's a severe wind warning in effect for a lot of the northeast tonight, I thought these recent New York Times articles might be appropriate.

Homespun Electricity, From the Wind profiles a few families from around the US who have installed wind turbines on their property. One dude had been spending nearly $1000 (!) a month on electricity during the summer and now produces enough electricity on his own that he can sell some back to the power company each month. The article also has some infuriating quotes from people who just can't stomach the idea of their neighbor doing something unconventional.

“I’m not against the environment, but I just think there’s a place for all this,” said Mr. Daddona. “You shouldn’t try to save a little bit on your electrical bill if it affects your neighbors.”

Nice! Yes, heaven forbid you might have to look at a little windmill across the street. It would be a shame to draw attention away from your fishing dutch boy or animatronic Santa. They're like those people who try to ban clotheslines.

Despite the parts that annoyed the crap out of me, the article was mostly positive. The Times also published this companion piece, Determining Whether a Turbine Will Work, which gives some links to resources that explain how to go about investigating wind power.

And if you're feeling especially ambitious, here's a link that shows you how to make your own wind generator.

A Little Land

I'm currently reading The Grapes of Wrath and the Joad family has just made their way into California. An image Steinbeck presents repeatedly is that land equals food. All they needed was a little piece of land with some water and they would be alright.

Meg and I are not in the same situation in any way; our reasons for gardening are to have a closer relationship with the earth and the food we eat (I'm sure there is a little politics sprinkled in there too). Yet, as I read what these folk had to go through (although it is fiction, it is based on fact), my appreciation for what we have and what we are able to achieve becomes so much more.

The Big Melt

Yesterday's ice with today's sun made for quite a spectacle in our backyard. I really don't have much to say about the photos other than I was in complete awe of the scenes nature provided. The photos were taken at two separate times this morning; the first was a bit before 9:00 while everything was still good and frosty, and the second was around 11:00, which is when the sun finally breaks above the tops of the trees. During the second round everything was melting, which made for a strange scene. I say strange because the sky was clear and the sun was bright, but under the canopy of the trees it was pouring. I tell ya, I just don't get people who stay cooped up when the most amazing things are going on right outside their front door.

Without a Net

There's a bit of a sparkle out there today. Everything is covered in ice and hunched beneath the weight. The feeling of panic from a lot of folks is inescapable. I guess there are tree limbs falling, power lines breaking, and roads getting slick, but it still looks pretty just the same.

The weight of the ice was the first winter test for the new chicken pen. As I said in an earlier post, we gave the ladies a canopy made out of netting used to cover fruit trees. Another alternative is deer fencing as you can see at Fast Grow the Weeds. We went with the fruit tree stuff because it's tough as nails and there was an abandoned section of it in the lower shed. There's nothing wrong with a little harmless pillaging.

By the way, if you're smart about your materials you can do some impressive things for a modest price. The total amount we spent on coop, pen, and chickens came out to a smidge less than $200.

Back to the ice. So, the amount of ice we got here is pretty average for an ice storm in our area. As you can see there is a noticeable increase of sag, but the bamboo supports are holding up well.

Great Balls of Fire

We didn't even make it out to the garden today, and there's no telling what's been going on out there. It has been really warm lately (50°F today), so maybe tomorrow we can report that our fall vegetables have made a resurgence.

But for now, instead of reading about or chickens or our compost or whatever it is that you come here to read about, run outside in a few hours and check out the Geminids meteor shower. It happens every year at this time, but this year is supposed to be a real show.

We Meant Well

The plan was that we were going to plant a healthy amount of fall crops and when the temperatures began to fall we would cover those crops with some nifty new row houses. As you can see in the top photo, the row house construction went rather well. However, what the bottom photo shows is that the actual planting didn't go as planned.

Actually the planting did start out quite well, but we ran into some unforeseeable mishaps between the time of the first planting of greens in late August to when the covers went up in late October. The first unfortunate incident happened to our crop of greens. September brought about some unusually hot days in southeastern Pennsylvania. The heat plus one neglected watering and the entire crop fried. Then our bush beans and peas fell victim to some deer and rabbits with a case of the munchies. It's odd, we never had any problems with deer and very few issues with rabbits, then in one night our garden became a salad bar. By the time we patched the holes in the fence where the rabbits squeezed through and raised its height from five feet to seven feet to keep out the deer, the window for planting was over. We planted some desperation chard (because it's wicked hardy and Mmm, Mmm, delicious) sometime in October and covered the bean and pea corpses with our fingers crossed for a miracle.

No such miracle arrived. What we are now left with are some carrots, sage, spring chard (wicked hardy), and some mighty fine looking row covers.

Bad Photo of Great Soup

Sorry about the photo; the light in our kitchen is something awful.

So far this soup is my favorite that Meg and I made. It's nothing fancy, it's just squash soup. I have found that some of the best soup recipes are the ones that can be passed verbally (very few ingredients with basic cooking instructions).

Ingredients: (I wasn't given any amounts, so you won't be either)

Olive oil
Garlic (none of that store bought garbage in a jar)
Onions
Squash (preferably zucchini and yellow summer squash)
Parsley
Thyme
Vegetable broth
Salt and Pepper (optional)
Heavy cream (not heavy "whipping" cream)

Cooking instructions:

In a pot bring your olive oil up to a good non-smoking temp and toss in your chopped garlic. Cook the garlic just long enough for you to grab your already chopped onions, and then add the onions. Sweat the onions and garlic until the onions begin to clarify. Then add your chopped squash, parsley, and thyme and sweat the hell out of it. (Now some folks will remove the seeds and what not from the squash before they cook it to reduce the amount of water they give out. Meg and I like the squash juices, so we leave them in.) When the squash looks like it has had about enough, start warming up some vegetable broth in a separate pot. You won't need much, it is mainly going to be used as a thinning agent. With a hand blender, puree the squash. While the blender is on and in the pot, add vegetable broth until the mixture is the consistency of runny cream of wheat, grits, porridge, or what ever other visual reference you're savvy with. This is your base. Freeze what you don't plan on using in serving size portions. With the base you do plan on consuming still on the heat, add salt and pepper to taste, and stir in heavy cream until the soup is the color of your liking. Serve and enjoy.

How Not to Grow an Orchard

We've blogged before about the crappy old orchard that haunts our backyard. And just so you don't start thinking that this atrocity is our fault, I'll make it clear that this is all our landlord's doing. There are two primary factors that contribute to the orchard's craptitude: bad spacing of trees, and bad no pruning. In case you'd like to avoid such a calamity in your own cute grove of trees, I decided to prepare a handy primer on what not to do. I've conveniently provided annotated photographic evidence of our supremely lousy orchard.

1. A five-foot section of an exceedingly tall branch which snapped off under the weight of an unmanaged apple crop and which is now dangling precariously, caught in other branches, waiting to fall and thwap someone in the head.

2. A fifteen-, formerly twenty-, foot tall spike (see #1) which now has no branches at all left on it. I'm sure that in the spring it will send out a tuft of little twigs at its highest point, which will then conceive big, nasty, worm-eaten apples, which will in turn snap off another five feet of tree. We don't know a whole lot about fruit trees, but one thing we can say with certainty is that they're not supposed to have any major part going straight up and down except for the trunk.

3. You'll notice that, except for the trunk, every single branch on this thing is reaching desperately for the sun.

4. Even the main limbs coming off the trunk are pointing nearly straight up, even though they should ideally be at about a 60° angle.

5. But that's what happens when you plant an apple tree directly underneath an older, larger apple tree and then neglect to prune it: the young tree lunges towards the sun. This thing is the Icarus of apple trees.


6. And this tree was so crowded it just flat out fell over.

7. Which this one will do soon.

8. As will this one.

9. And then they will all send up pseudo-trunks like this, to compensate.

I give this whole mess three years. Except for our adopted apple tree, of course. Because, since we're going to get my brother to come here with his booze making equipment and provide us with a nice, big barrel of applejack, we better take good care of that one.