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2017 Heirloom Tomato Catalogue

We love our heirloom tomatoes! Every year in February it starts with the online seed catalogues. How to choose from the hundreds available? Well we hang onto some old favourites of course, like Black Cherry, Black Krim and Romas. But then there are the new temptations with alluring names like White Mikado and Eros. My dream is to eventually make my way through the entire tomato repertoire at Terra Edibles.

We get to know them all on a first name basis after selecting, seeding and potting them up twice. We offer them for sale at the local Farmers’ Market and on line co-op store. And of course we save a few hundred for our own tomato tunnel on the farm. Visions of French Tomato Tart and grilled beefsteak and mayo sandwiches begin dancing in our heads as we nurture our plants in the greenhouse.

This is our lineup for 2017:

Tomato Catalogue 2017 – Final Version (1)

Going forward…

Posts have been quiet on the gardening front for the past two seasons as we have been adding other components to the farm operations and transitioning the field gardening to wooden raised beds.

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Goat Love

In keeping with our mission to promote farmland as a community resource, all components of the farm have been introduced keeping in mind the long-term plan for the farm, which is agritourism.

The three-year plan is to open a farm B&B that offers authentic interactions with farm animals and food production. We will be targeting a couple of our square timber outbuildings as rustic accommodations and converting the stable to a venue for on-farm workshops. The addition of a hammock tent camping option and other lodging variations, such as yurts and cabins,  will allow visitors to experience a connection with the land at their own level of comfort.

We have been transitioning from field rows to wooden raised beds. Although a mammoth undertaking in terms of cash outlay and investment in time, it solves a number of issues and offers extra advantages to our small scale of gardening:

  • Raised beds eliminate the need for tractor farming. Once prepared, they will only require light turning or loosening with a broad fork. This is less disruptive to soil structure and organisms.
  • The containment of the soil means that amendments can be better controlled and measured. Amendments and fertilization can also be fine-tuned to suit the particular crop in that bed.
  • Weed pressure is less since the paths between the beds can be permanently planted in clover (beneficial) and will not need to be weeded or mulched. Ever. Again.
  • Soil is kept high, dry  and warm, thereby allowing us to begin planting spring crops weeks earlier since we won’t have to wait for our low fields to dry up to run the tractor tiller. We can also choose to cover select boxes to bring tender crops further into the fall. Season extension is key to successful northern gardening.
  • The wooden boxes provide a ready-made structure for hooping and covering plants, trellising, and labeling beds. With a cordless screwdriver they can be converted to cold frames, hot houses or shade beds.
  • Materials such as row cover, plastic mulch, tunnel covers and drip irrigation can be reused and handled more easily by a single worker when dealing with 8′ x 4′ dimensions. Many of the farm’s damaged field materials have been recoverable, e.g. a 200-foot length of row cover with rips has a lot of salvageable, box-sized rectangles.
  • A lot of gardening is about psyching yourself for long tedious tasks, such as harvesting and weeding. Beds are rewarding in that you can finish one in minutes and check if off. I also find it easier to engage volunteer help when you can assign a box or two. Weeding field rows is daunting, just sayin’.
  • Aesthetically, arrangements of vegetable growing boxes and clover paths have curb appeal on a tourism oriented farm and can be more easily groomed. They can also be attractively interspersed with beds of flowers to provide colour, pollination and cutting flowers for market.
  • To the uninitiated, plants, weeds, paths and rows are not easily distinguishable. If you’re going to set the public loose on your gardens, boxes make it simple.

Raised beds make sense given our scale of operations and our intention to make the farm a public place.

The introduction of goats has been a game changer. We not only love them as friendly engaging creatures, but their byproducts (kids, milk, manure, visitor attraction) have enhanced  both our range of farm offerings and the ever important addition of fertility to our soil. We have relied on other manure sources in the past with mixed results and we are stoked to be able to control this input produced on our own farm.

Goofy goat crop

Don’t you wish your livestock was hot like me!

We free-range our turkeys and meat chickens on pasture as well. As with our garden formula, the poultry operations have evolved to provide a better quality of life for the bird as well as an improved system for optimizing on their contributions (manure deposited directly on the gardens and bug control).

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Kanako Communing with Turkeys

We started out à la Joel Salatin (Polyface Farm), which entailed raising poultry from day old chicks in what is basically an upside down playpen which is moved to a fresh spot every day.

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Chicken Tractors

Since we are small scale and do not really have “pastures” in the wide open spaces sense of the word, we encountered a number of problems. One was hauling heavy tractors over uneven terrain, which was hard on the labourer, the tractor itself and inevitably required some jiggling to make sure that there were no gaps at the bottom of the tractor.

The second was that it was hard to manage feed and water while bent over leaning into the tractor. If birds were reluctant to move forward or needed to be removed for injury or disposal, some unlucky person had to climb in and crawl to the back of the tractor. Usually the smallest or most agile intern 🙂

As the birds grew bigger, it required more tractors to house them while providing adequate space. Bigger birds make bigger messes and we were faced with either more moves per day or dirty birds. Birds also like to roost, which keeps them clean and dry, so we rethought the housing.

We now raise them in the greenhouse in a tented pen until they are hardened somewhat. They then go outside into a hoophouse with perches and an electric pen surrounding it to keep predators away. This gives them a roosting area, overhead protection (owls, eagles) and a larger area to graze. We let them out of the enclosure for part of the day and it’s amazing to see how they forage and range over large areas. When they’ve exhausted the grass supply, we set the pen up in a new location. There are still some refinements to be made, but all in all it’s nicer for everyone. Cleaner, happier, better fed.

Pigs are happy to have a warm dry house and a large area to root in. They are intelligent animals and when bored will get up to no end of mischief, which they have the sheer size and stubbornness to enforce. We house them in the “pig condo” which is a plywood structure on skids that can be moved with the tractor to a fresh location every few weeks. They are enclosed in an electric pen and will respect it as long as long as it’s plugged in. Experience has taught us that they have some kind of pig sensor that allows them to detect when the breaker has tripped and they are quick to take advantage and go AWOL.

Pigs, in addition to providing endless entertainment and delicious food, perform a vital service on the farm as part of the field recovery team. We clear a section, leaving them a few trees, and then wait for them to overturn the soil and uproot all of the shrubs and vegetation in their search for delicacies. When they’re done, it’s simply a matter of pulling a few stumps and tilling it for next year’s garden. Everyone wins.

We have yet to make the leap to breeding our own pigs, but it’s the next logical step if we wish to expand. It’s also important to complete the cycle on the farm so that visitors get the whole picture.

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Wallow Heaven

To supply our endless need for nutrients, we are exploring the possibility of a community (farm community that is) composter and vermiculture operation. This would involve a collection or delivery system of some sort and some infrastructure as well. We have an outdoor wood-burning stove that could heat a concrete composting platform and a worm bed in the large greenhouse. Red wiggler worms and composting kits are another potential farm product.

In the past, our operations have included helping hands in the form of farming interns and farmstay students from abroad. Their contributions are highly valued. Not only do they perform the million and one tasks involved in a farm operation but they bring fresh outlooks, new knowledge and valuable feedback. We have not hosted this past year since operations have been largely reduced in order to transition the garden, but we are already in the interviewing process for a 2017 incubatorship position (intern or interns who have their own project and exchange labour for a place to set up business).

The biggest change will be a move from CSA (veggie basket subscriptions) to an online farm store. This hybrid will offer more flexibility to members and farmer and yet include many of the elements that make CSA a great marketing model. Members will still subscribe and have weekly pickups at the farm; however they’ll be able to tailor their orders to suit their family’s eating requirements and habits. Our community has a lot of people who live alone and would appreciate the chance to buy in smaller quantities.

From the farming end, we’ll be able to post what we have in the quantities we’ve produced, which covers both the crop failures and the unintended bounties, both of which are inevitable when you partner with Ma Nature in business!  For the adventurous eaters, we can still put together baskets.

Pre-ordering also allows us to market free-range eggs, wood-fired pizzas, sourdough, home-made soups, goat milk soaps and other products as time allows and the growing season waxes and wanes.

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Sourdough Loaves from the Wood-Fired Oven

All in all it’s an exciting line-up for us and we can’t wait to bring you Wellspring Gardens, the next generation!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once there was a way…

…to get back homeward.

But I’m afraid goats have become an irrevocable fact of life as long as I am farming. They arrived as a novelty and have somehow infiltrated into practically every aspect of my life. But I can justify keeping them…sort of.

We’re fast approaching our first year anniversary as goatherds (or as I like to call it, goatslaves) and have passed a lot of milestones: first kidding season, first vaccinations, first drenches for colic, first disbudding, first milking, first loss….We’ve learned to master goat cheese, goat soap and goat manure, the three byproducts from our dairy herd.

I have to regularly remind myself that the considerable investment in feed, infrastructure and veterinary bills will be paid out in rich compost for the market garden. As long as nobody forces me to sit down with a calculator I can continue to believe that.

Moving the steadily accumulating wealth of goat pebbles and bedding is the equivalent to the exercise classes I sign up for but never attend. There are savings to be had there.

Although it’s tempting to argue their worth based on practical considerations, I’d have to say their true value is entertainment.  I spend so much time watching goat antics that I’ve suspended the satellite subscription (which is kind of an argument for both practicality and entertainment). Goats are natural actors and rarely have trouble staying in character. They’re simply built to be hilarious/cute/obstinate/annoying/endearing.

Each has their own role. For instance Reeses Pieces (stage name Rhys or Coco) is by far the friendliest kid of the six offspring. Always the first to greet you, he loves to put his front hooves on you and nibble your collar or hair.  I often wear his hoof prints on the front of my shirt. He’ll occasionally stir my coffee with one of them. He’d make a great agent if we detoured him from his inevitable path towards buckhood.

Sierra Nevada prefers to play a supporting role. She is the barn daycare goat and doulah, who happily hangs with the kids when the moms are busy and accompanies her sister goats during their labour.

King, 170 pounds of shaggy, imposing-looking buck is the least aggressive of the lot with his understated little “meh” that barely registers on the bleating scale and the polite offering of his head over the paddock fence for rubbing. The only time he remotely resembles a leading man is during the rut, but to be honest, he’s mostly  ram without the ‘bunctious.

Cookies and Cream, an aging Nubian diva with a breathy moo she must have learned from a bovine pasture mate at some point,  is the self-appointed matriarch, always the first to the food and the loudest protester when the humans don’t keep to schedule. She has obviously had vocal training because she can project her  low voice from the stage (paddock) to the back of the hall (my bedroom) until she captures her audience (me, trudging down with grain).

Sunshine Girl, a nimble, good-time Toggenburg-Alpine, is the stunt goat. We’re almost certain she made her debut in the circus. She demonstrated early on that she is only behind bars because she so chooses. She easily leapt over the breeding stall gate  to escape the unwanted attentions of the suitor we chose for her and sprang back in with equal vigour when her preferred buck took up residence. She also catapulted onto the Christmas parade float as the fourth goat in the Three Billy Goats Gruff diorama and required some persuading to return among the goats who didn’t make the cut.

The remainder of the goats have walk-on roles in the daily soap opera that makes up the days of their lives. Aspiring starlet Peanut Butter (twin to Reese Pieces and the producer’s darling) delights in slipping her still slender form between the bars of the hay crib to dine at leisure from within and flaunt her privileged position by depositing goat raisins on everyone else’s dinner.

Cookie’s two-thirdlets (we lost a triplet) Marshmallow Creme and Chips Ahoy prefer cameo roles that showcase their sleek brown and white coats and exquisite Egyptian profiles. They’re often found posing with their heads tilted coyly, showing their long arched necks to advantage.

The baby Alpines, Capricorn and Capella are much too dignified to pose overtly, but excel at stealth photo bombing. They’re never detected until you upload the files. Various body parts litter the cutting room floor.

The remaining does watch from the sidelines away from the admiring crowds (unless the admiring crowds have carrots); Bubblegum Girl, Aurora Borealis and Eloquent Mist are backstage ingenues just waiting to be discovered.

No production is complete without the credits:

Cameron McGregor – Producer

Sheila Selby – Director

Joe Renaud – Key Grip

Angie Chaput – Script Editor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All is Calm, All is Bright

 

As soft the new lain snow beds down

And laden trees bend low to ground

The lowly beasts with muffled sound

Their comfort seek in safe surround.

 

And I my husbandry complete

A path do trace with eager feet

Toward the golden panes that greet

My weary bones with promise sweet

 

Of wood-stoked blaze and cushioned bed

Of damp wool-scent curled ‘round my head

As snow-soaked coat and hat quick shed

The cloak of lace upon them spread.

 

But though my body sore inclined

To seek out hearth and humankind

Does forge its way with intent blind

A silver web my feet entwines.

 

The moon, hung high, will have her way

Her spell, tight-bound, my progress stays

And stilled, I meet her kindly gaze

My soul awash with peace, with grace.

 

In the Company of Goats

It really doesn’t matter what kind of day you’ve had once you enter the goat barn. Gone the pressure to be somebody.

In the goat barn there are no bad hair days. You can wear the same overalls and mismatched rubber boots every day of the week and still be accepted.

In the goat barn, no-one expects witty repartee, a knowledge of current events,  or even that you remember their name. Just show up and you’re already a star.

Goats bust life back down to basics…food, water, shelter, companionship. The contented munching of hay, the nearly full-grown kids bulldozing under their mothers for milk snacks, the outstretched necks looking for a scratch, curious nibbles in my hair–these life-affirming goat barn reruns never get old.

The easily won trust and gratitude of a goat is a balm in a world where we too often have to prove ourselves.

When I leave the sanctuary of the goat barn, I am at one with myself and my world. In the goat barn I recapture my true essence.

Almost too big for snuggles

Almost too big for snuggles

Goat love

At one with the herd

From the ashes…

“Mom! Quick, call 911. The garage is on fire!”

An infinitesimal pause while the reality sinks in.

Then my feet burst into action even as my sluggish brain is still wrapping itself around the truth: This is happening to me. Me. My property and belongings. A woman of action, I’m completely paralyzed.

Realization dawns. Oh my god the goats are in the barn next to the garage!

Urgency quickly telescopes me back into the moment and my fingers dial 911 as I race outdoors simultaneously giving instructions to the operator and yelling for the rest of the household to free the goats from the barn.

Obscene black smoke smears the normally bucolic view of the square timber outbuildings. The scene is fit for the 11 o’clock news, not my own yard.

I bark out a final instruction at the 911 operator who is insisting that there is no such address and toss the phone, still live, to the nearest person before sprinting to the barn. The goats are milling  in the back stall, eluding all attempts to rescue them. The grip on my heart releases as I see a path forward.

“Pick up the babies and carry them out!” We scoop up the six kids, dump them outside the paddock, then bully a couple of adults to the gate. The balance is tipped, the need to be with the herd outweighs the fear of smoke. The rest follow.

Next the buck pen where the two males need no urging to flee.

The emergency response team has begun to arrive. I stand alone in the field,  surrounded by goats pressing against me. My legs are trembling and I reach out to touch them, seeking reassurance from their musky warmth.

The adrenaline drains and I realize I’m shivering, dressed an improbable combination of black camisole, shirred skirt and gum boots.

Household safe. Goats safe. Time to join the bystanders standing by helplessly as the fire fighters battle in force to subdue the flames. Hugs. Reassurances. A coat thoughtfully draped over my shoulders.

I later discover that what felt like half an hour was only ten minutes; that what felt like half an hour was actually three hours.

Ten minutes response time by the firefighters. Three hours on the scene to completely secure the building.

In the vulnerable aftermath I reflect deeply on the valuable treasures that survived the stench and the ashes of the destroyed garage. They aren’t covered by the insurance, but the fire has in fact increased their value…

A husband, who drove seven hours through the night to be by my side. Family, who dropped everything to come and stand by in solidarity. Friends,  who called, visited and launched hundreds of Facebook messages with heartfelt offers to provide whatever we might need. Strangers, who heard the news and reached out generously. And the volunteer firefighters, young and not so young, who train rigorously, who wear their pagers when on call, ready to interrupt weddings, funerals and family events to respond, and who race to the scene at the sound of a siren  even when they’re not on call.

Yes we’ll rebuild. Yes we’ll refill the garage with tools and gear. But they will never have the same value. And I’m good with that.