Intestinal Fortitude and the Garden Frontier
October 11, 2008|Comments (19)
Our front lot is a take-your-toe off kind of place. Literally. I tripped over one of the millions of trailing vines just a few weeks ago and ended up on crutches. If the front lot were to stay any more untamed — Bear Grylls would parachute in and film a survival show in it. At any rate, my accident and the delightfully cool weather inspired Josh to begin settling the Georgian frontier. (And yes, I realize that there is a gigantic spider and web picture starting this post — it lives in the front lot/garden and would provide sustenance for Mr. Grylls should he ever attempt to survive on our property. *giggles and slaps knee repeatedly*)
Josh got in touch with his inner pioneer and chopped down vines, scrubby saplings, and dead trees. He uprooted the invasive plants and worked a miracle.
I suppose that what I am most proud of is that all of it could have been knocked out in one day with a tractor and a few hundred dollars worth of petrol (not to mention filling our air with noxious fumes). Instead, Josh did it all by hand. Armed with eye pro, sturdy work boots, gloves, and an amazing smile — he did things the old fashioned way.
I am often asked, “Is Josh really all that wonderful? Honestly?” Oh, my goodness gracious — let me tell you — the man is really and truly that wonderful. He never backs down from a project just because it involves back-breaking work or long hours.
As I look back on all the incredible things that he has accomplished: chicken coops, turkey and duck tractors, guinea housing, fences, garden boxes, refinishing furniture, and now the front garden project in preparation for meat and dairy goats… well, I can’t help but fall in love with him all over again. My Pioneer. My Frontiersman. My heroic husband who sweeps me off my feet with his seemingly endless strength (physical and spiritual).
As the stock market crashes, companies (and now countries) declare bankruptcy, and gas prices rise — I do not worry. My husband has what it takes. We know that we’ll survive — perhaps not in style but certainly with a great deal of love and happiness. What does it take? Intestinal fortitude.
When you think of intestinal fortitude (guts), who do you think of?
The Fall Garden, Getting Ready
October 6, 2008|Comments (19)
As the days begin to shorten and the heat of summer is slowly disappearing… fall gardening becomes priority. Visions of collards, broccoli, cabbage, and carrots dance in my head. First things first… soil prep. Soil preparation is numero uno for a fall garden. So just erase that picture of collards for a moment. And focus. Focus!
That’s right… the compost bin!
A full compost bin is one of the most welcomed sights to any gardener. Many books give detailed instructions on how to maintain compost piles or create compost bins out of T-posts and wire mesh. These composting methods work for a lot of people who don’t have dogs. Our first compost bin was the T-post and wire mesh variety. I happily cut the tops out of milk jugs and filled them with egg shells and whatnot (no meat or dairy products). We emptied them into the bin (which we were quite proud of).
In just twenty-four hours, our wonderful cat and dogs dug out the scraps and ruined our bin. A quick call to my Aunt Nancy solved the problem. Nancy, who grew up on a farm in PA, told us to take an old garbage can and drill holes in the bottom. She said to make sure the lid could be secured to keep the rain off of the compost. Turning the compost is easily done with a pitch fork. We tried this method and love it for small-scale composting.
Good compost is like pear pie for plants. Only good for you. So maybe not pie for plants. You get the idea.
Spread out the good stuff. And till. Stop when the compost is completely turned over into your top soil.
Now you can start planting those fabulous cool weather nonacidic goodies: beets, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, collards, kale, lettuce, mustard, onions, radishes, spinach and turnips. Get those leaves together for more compost. You’ll need to compost again after this harvest. And what a harvest it will be:
Farm Dreams
September 22, 2008|Comments (13)
It’s that time of year again… the time that I like to imagine our future farm opening its doors to the public and their rosy-cheeked laughing children — excited about selecting the perfect pumpkin, riding on a horse-drawn hay wagon (this is my little addition to the plan), and getting blissfully hopelessly lost in a corn maze. Can’t you just see it? Little ones in hoodies with chewed pull-strings and elastic waisted blue jeans… couples proposing to each other in the beauty and romance of harvest time… and decorating with Indian corn, corn stalks, wagon wheels, and straw bales.
Oh, I can. I absolutely can. Who doesn’t love a trip to the pumpkin patch?? Josh wants to create a haunted wood with proceeds to support our future church. Complete with fake spider-webbing, bedsheet ghosts, cardboard gravestones, and bats on strings. How about a haunted barn as well? We could do so many cool things. I love this time of year. Love, love, love.
In Washington, I drove my Sunday School students to a wonderful pumpkin patch and spent the afternoon devouring hot cider and funnel cake, watching the pumpkin launcher, making our way through the corn maze, and trying to find my old Explorer (I parked that thing somewhere!). That day cemented it in my brain that I wanted a farm just like that… one that would become a tradition in the houses of the people around us.
Where is your favorite pumpkin patch? Do you have any ideas for our imaginary farm?
-
The VERY Latest from Twitter
