Taters!

OK, so just when I had all but given up on the prospect of making anything this year in the garden, it rains! Peas and butter beans are starting to bloom again, giving me a small ray of hope that all is not completely lost. While the local weatherman predicts dry heat for the next five days, I find myself a bit more optimistic than the last post.

But it's hard to find much optimism when everything is so parched. The potato vines had died down to crumbly brown stalks, almost impossible to even find among the wheat straw. Dad and I figured we might as well dig them up to see if they had produced anything at all, and I was determined to eat anything resembling a potato, even if it was no bigger than one of the few peas we have managed to squeeze out of the patch. The first plant had one potato about the size of a quarter, and the results didn't do much to boost my confidence at all. But by the time we were three or four hills in, each turn of the fork was revealing a few nice plump red blobs, and in the end I walked away with several pounds of both Pontiac Red and Yukon Golds. Not a total loss, but certainly not what I had hoped for.

With that task completed it was time to really survey the damage. 20 rows of corn, dead. 50 paste tomato plants, withered and lifeless. Black and Calypso beans, utterly consumed by the drought. Green beans and Yellow wax beans, alive but barren. two 75' rows of Okra, hanging by a thread. Squash and cucumber, not even a trace. Mississippi cow peas and Jackson wonder butter beans- green and blooming again. Potatoes, in the bag. Bell, Jalapeno, Habanero and Chilli's, alive and producing.

I have learned first hand what it is like to totally rely on Mother Nature and I'm not satisfied with the odds, as the road to self reliance is long, hard and dusty. But I take a little comfort in knowing that I successfully planned, planted and grew an entire garden from seed. Had the rains come it would have yielded enough to make a huge dent in our food consumption. That much I am confident of, so next year irrigation is top priority. A lot of hours have ticked away since march when I started sprouting seeds indoors and in the end, knowledge from lessons learned has come at a cost. But that knowledge and experience is something the drought cannot take away, in fact, it only makes me more determined and confident.

Sawmill

One of the deciding factors when we were searching for land was that it must contain a sustainable forest. At first, this primarily meant firewood, but the more I thought about it I soon came to consider a broader scope. As long as I can remember, I have loved woodworking. My first real job was an apprentice cabinet maker under the master wood smith George Jones, in Statham, Georgia. Thanks to him and his partner Donald, I learned most of what I know today about working wood.

I religiously save my gig money from playing in the band to fund projects. These projects usually have something to do with becoming more self reliant, learning a new skill or helping someone in need. I do occasionally invest in more music gear, but for the most part I'm focusing on savings and the future of the farm. When we purchased the farm, the old barn was one of the characteristics that we fell in love with. Unfortunately, it is actually in bad shape and needs rebuilding. Looking at the structure, I began to think that it wouldn't be that difficult to restore or rather, rebuild to the original specs. It was then that I started thinking about building a sawmill. After a lot of research, I found a band saw mill that would do the job and started saving. While this one was my second choice, (my first choice has no dealers within 2 days drive) after careful consideration I feel it is still a good entry level machine and will do everything I need.

The earnings from last night's show completed the financial requirements, and a few weekends from now I'll be heading down to pick it up. This opens up all kinds of possibilities for buildings, barns, fences and a host of other things for which wood is a necessity. I'm hoping even a rustic cabin is not out of the question.

I think my biggest challenge is going to be how to get the logs down from the mountain, and while I have some solid theoretical concepts, it is a skill I still have to put into practice. The first log will be a huge fallen oak, about 20 inches in diameter, which is blocking the access road to the mountain top. It will be a massive undertaking for my novice self, but I will prevail- one way or the other. I must, for the entire future of this plan hinges on my success, and I don't take failure all that well.

I usually can only find the sanity to undertake daunting tasks by envisioning the finished outcome. My vision here is of old master George, who on seeing my hand built cabin, those beautiful wood cabinets and all that has been created out of wood, gives me a little smile and nod of approval. In a way, I will have become a master, and I think that was his intention all along.

Dog Days

Some lessons are only learned the hard way. In spite of my optimism during the spring months, my garden is now dormant at best. The dog days of summer, the Georgia heat and sporadic rain have decided to crash my party. Just when the garden was entering into the crucial flowering stage, the rains stopped. Day after blistering day the heat sucked any remaining moisture from the ground, resulting in a hard, dusty death trap.

On a positive note, weeding has become easier, as even they are not growing. We have had a little rain over the last couple of days, but I am afraid it is too little, too late. Sometimes I feel like more sweat has fallen on that ground than rain, but unfortunately that doesn't produce crops. I doubt we will harvest much of anything this year, and that saddens me because all of the work that I have put into it. If we had actually had to live off land, we would not survive like this.

So, what did I learn from this experience?
Assuming the rains had come, my rows would have been too close together to comfortably work the garden. I planted close to squeeze in more, but I should have left more space to move around. With my tractor and a larger area, I should be able to use the cultivators and make weeding a little easier. It would have been much easier to hill my potato rows with a pair of disks too.

Second, I think the biggest lesson is one dad pretty much already knew- the garden needs irrigation. The last few years Mother Nature has not smiled on that dusty patch of soil, and I am of the conclusion that irrigation in some form is an absolute necessity should one have to rely on the home garden for survival in the temperate Georgia climate.

Back home the tomatoes, cabbage, chard, carrots, onions and salads are thriving. My radishes and spinach didn't fair well, however. Just too hot I suppose. In retrospect, I should have planted them much earlier than I did.

Up on the farm, the tractor is working out great. She has developed an oil leak around the PTO shaft and I'll have to fix that, but I'm finally getting to know her quirks and kinks. I learned that when mowing on the mountain side I have to wedge my knee against the gear shift or it may slip into neutral, resulting in a 90 mile per hour joy ride down the mountain straight for the river. She doesn't like the ignition key on my heavy keyring, as demonstrated by switching to the off position at just the wrong moment when I was towing Linda's car up the steep driveway, once again resulting in a 90 mile per hour joy ride, this time straight towards her car. Only Linda's quick reaction saved me from an embarrassing call to the insurance office and no telling how many days in the dog house.

I bought a 16 foot trailer with the intention of being able to transport the tractor down to dads to work the garden, but I doubt I will attempt to work it next year. The farm offers so much more potential with it's ability to irrigate from the river. The problem is that we can't be there often enough to work a high maintenance garden. I may have to start off with very low maintenance crops that don't require daily monitoring and harvesting. I'm thinking potatoes, peanuts, corn etc.

My band has become quite successful, playing 12 to 14 shows a month from Maine to Florida, leaving few weekends to spend on the farm. I'm torn between doing what I have always wanted to do and doing what I know eventually needs to be done. I only hope the shit doesn't hit the fan anytime soon finding us unprepared to survive on our own. Then again, maybe it already has and we just haven't been splattered yet. It's hard to tell sometimes.

Tractor!

Even though I was sick, this turned out to be a very productive weekend. Friday morning marked the end of months of searching as I finally located a suitable tractor in Hartwell Georgia, where Travis Carnes restores old ford tractors to their shining glory. I must admit, I got lost a time or two along the way, but there was no mistaking the address once I finally made it. The yard was full of tractors and more tractors, some in various stages of restoration and a few obviously used for mechanical cannibalization. This man lives and breathes tractors- He even has a hot rod street car, you guessed it, made from a ford tractor.

Out back, he was putting the finishing touches on a beautiful 1955 Ford Jubilee, which was the object of my interest. He was having trouble getting the starter to turn over, and this gave me a chance to get to know him while we worked together troubleshooting the cause. I guess I made a favorable impression on him, when after he replaced the starter soleniod to no avail, I suggested we measure the voltage going to the starter. When it turned up zero we disconnected the starter wire and got 12 volts, so the only logical conclusion is that the starter was shorted- which was indeed the case. After that I guess he figured "this boy from the city" might actually be worth talking to and he told me more than I could ever hope to retain about the mechanical workings the tractor, his philosophy on life and our general agreement on the sad state of social and political affairs in the world today.

I suppose for the same amount of money I could have purchased a newer tractor, but this deal was sweet in that it came with pretty much all the implements I will need for several years to come. Travis said he had hoped for a buyer that could really make use of the entire package. Besides the tractor, I have a 20 disk International harrow, cultivator, box scraper, 5 foot bush hog and some contraption called a Gee-Whiz plow. (?) But my main need at the moment is the bush hog, as my last cutting set me back $250. It is simple and just like the one my uncle Gene owned and used in the pecan groves for years. No offense to my (not the most mechanically inclined person I know) uncle, but if he was able to keep a tractor running I have a pretty good feeling I should be able to.

I also got the first round of the orchard planted. Linda and I selected fruit trees from a local nursery, which was reported to be a bit pricey but at $15 each I still found it to be less than half the price of home depot and other garden centers around the area.

We planted Gala and Granny Smith apple trees, Alberta and Jubilee peaches, Keiffer pears and a cherry. We didn't even make a dent in the orchard space so I'm sure there will be more to follow. I haven't even purchased the almond trees yet, and there simply must be some pecan trees, for a measure nostalgia if nothing else. Standing in the incomplete orchard looking up the mountain I could envision the vineyard, but that was getting ahead of ourselves.

I met one of the neighbors who in past years has cut hay on the land and invited him to feel free to cut this season as well, explaining that it would actually help me out by keeping it mowed. By the time the trees were in the ground, the upper pasture was nicely cut and a grateful new friend was made. I also saved some money by not having to pay to get it cut, so it was a win-win situation all the way around.

When I mentioned my next purchase was going to be a band saw mill he told me of an estate sale and said he was sure I could buy the one there for what I would pay for a new one half the size and half as good. He also told me about a man down on his luck who was collecting and selling scrap metal and said he would be glad to have him come by and take some scrap tin off my hands. So in spite of his warning about the abundant rattlesnakes and copperheads I fired up the weed eater and mowed around the pile and stacked all the rusty pieces in a nice pile, which will hopefully be gone by next weekend.

We only saw one snake, neither rattle nor copperhead, and to Linda's delight, it didn't stick around very long before slithering under the freshly cut grass in the field. I laughed as she tip-toed across the field tapping the rake on the ground in front of her, and thought of the wife on the TV show Green Acres who would rather be shopping.

Sunday afternoon I went down to my parents place to weed the garden and enjoy dinner. The weeding part I can handle, they come up easy with a hoe- it's the grass I hate. The garden spot is in bad shape and I can already tell this year is going to be a constant battle with the crab grass. The garden looks good with the weeds gone and we have a good stand of everything. The black beans and calypso are not up yet, but everything else is up and off to a good start.

Looks like it is going to be a wonderful and busy summer.

The Garden

Last weekend I went down to my dads and we finally worked the garden. The ground had previously been too wet to till, and it was just about right by the time my schedule opened up with a free weekend.

Having been dormant for two years, the grass had completely taken over, making things more difficult than they would have been in previous years. Still, it was great to work with dad in his element. He had already planted, but with no rain, my week delay will have little consequences and we should be off to an even start.

My garden spot is small, measuring about 40 x 80 feet, but it is still much bigger than the area I have at my home in the city. I'm trying the wide bed method, mostly due to the limited space. I split the two varieties of corn into two blocks, with each block about 10 x 35 feet containing 10 rows. Next are two 80 foot rows of Red Hill okra, followed by three long rows of Mississippi cow peas. finishing off the legumes, I have two closely spaced long rows of Jackson Wonder butter beans, and half rows of green beans and yellow wax beans.

I'm also experimenting with black beans and calypso bean, which I plan on leaving on the bush until they dry.

Planting close to 50 paste tomato plants, I hope to be able to can up lots of tomato sauce and salsa as well. Those and a few dozen other Heirloom varieties of tomato plants should have us with plenty to give away. Pepper varieties include Jalapeno, Habanero, cow horn, green, yellow and red Bell Peppers.

I also have two short rows of Red Pontiac and Yukon Gold potatoes. With such a late start, they will probably only produce small nuggets, but they will still taste fine. Lastly, I have a few small hills of Cucumber, Squash and Water Mellon.

Back home, I have decided to grow greens in the side bed. We love salads, and it just makes sense to try it. I have lettuce, carrots, radish and spinach up and thriving, along with bulb and spring onion.

With the exception of the yellow onion, just about everything we are growing came from seed, much of which was saved from previous years or given to me. My basement looks like a grow house every March and April, and I am finally getting to where I can do a successful seeding. This year, I bottom watered everything and had basically zero loss to dampening off. Adequate lighting eliminated spindly growth, and mild weather allowed everything to be hardened without interruption.

My biggest lesson learned this time around was patience. Dad kept saying, "not yet" and he was right. It looks as though it will be a good year, providing the rain will cooperate.

Up at the farm, we had our good friend Charlie clear off the lower pasture, and mow the base of the mountain along the river. I'm heading up there today to stake out the orchard and get it ready to put the trees in. My raspberries have suckered well this spring and taken root in pots so I have a dozen new plants to put along the fence. It should be a good weekend. :o)

Life is Good

I admit it, I love a good bottle of red wine. Whites have their place and time, but nothing compares to a scrumptious, full-body, dry red. I love the aroma it gives when you swish it around the glass, I love the pop of the taste buds anticipating the first sip, and most of all I love the way it lingers and comes alive, displaying all its subtle flavors and aroma after the swallow. A hearty Merlot as a compliment to lamb, new potatoes and asparagus grilled over a fire is just about as good as life ever gets. Well, at least when it comes to the palette.

Few things compare to the joy of making something yourself, and wine is no exception. Actually, one does not make wine, the wine makes itself, but that's another matter. What we can do is provide a comfortable environment and raise a wine, much the same way we would raise a child, with love, discipline and lots of patience. I am reminded of this fact today, as I rack and sample the new Merlot, still in its infant stage. Much like a child, it hasn't yet come into its own identity, but every sample yields subtle changes and maturity that wasn't there before. Just like flipping through the family photo album and observing the changes brought on by the passage of time, the wine grows, develops and becomes itself over time. The subtle characteristics that are lacking now need only patience to realize their potential.

I am excited about our 2010 vintage, and have designed a new series of 24 different labels for the bottles. I'll post up an entry with more details some other time and talk more about the plans for the vineyard on the ranch. But right now I'm simply too busy enjoying a wonderful 2006 Cabernet, wondering what things will be like in four years when the 2010 vintage is in my glass. Hopefully, pretty much the same only better; a result of my own mellowing, aging and blossoming character alongside this new wine. Yes, the joy of living, the hope found in potential, the rewards of labor- life is indeed good when one is patient enough to enjoy beautiful moments like these.

Planning the 2010 Garden

I am fortunate to still have my dad alive and healthy. Every year, with the exception of 2009, when heart surgery kept him from it, he has planted a vegetable garden. I too, it seems, have inherited the green gene and usually plant a small garden at my home here in the city. We don't have a lot of sunny space, but in the spring and summer months I squeeze tomatoes, peppers, squash and cucumbers amongst the shrubs wherever I can find room for them.

Like my father, I can hardly pass up the opportunity to pick up strange and unusual seeds I notice while on vacation and bring them home to plant. Every year I grow flowers from seed, and have a raised bed which yields fresh cut flowers during the summer months. All this means that I have just about exhausted my available real estate, and another plant would probably have the neighborhood association writing me one of those nasty letters.

This year, I am looking forward to helping my dad with his garden, while hijacking a little corner for my own. He knows a lot about traditional farming and I am practicing organic methods. We have always been very close regarding our interests, yet maintain just enough differences in opinions not to bore one another. I anticipate many wonderful conversations this spring as he shares wisdom from his fountain of knowledge while we work together.

My mother, knows just about everything there is to know about canning. Growing up, there were some lean years in the family budget and if not for her industry I don't know what we would have eaten- certainly not the awesome veggies that found their way to our table every night. To this day, one of my favorite things to eat is some sort of cow pea, with mashed potatoes, biscuits and corn. Fried country ham is good with it too, but not all that necessary.

Being February, it's time to order the seeds. I actually have some tomato and pepper seed from last years bounty, but since I will have considerably more space this year I'm expanding my horizons. Some things, like those cow peas will probably always have a reserved spot, but I have also become aware of my need to grow as much heirloom varieties as possible for two reasons; as commercial farming continues to push out the little guy, many of these varieties are in danger of being lost forever, and secondly, that question keeps popping up about what we would do if we couldn't order seed for next years harvest because of any number of possible or unfortunate reasons. This is the reason, for the most part, that I am shying away from hybrid varieties and genetic modified seed. I guess the other part is that it bothers me that a very small hand full of corporations hold the patents to the much of the available seed.

I'm sure there are other excellent and reputable suppliers out there, but this year, after much research I chose three suppliers to order from. Seed Savers Exchange, Park Seed and Territorial Seed. Hopefully, if I order anything next year it will be something I didn't order this year, as between them almost everything I'm growing can supply next years need by collecting a small amount of the harvest and saving the seed.

Just another small step on the journey.

Artisan bread

Making your own bread is not only affordable, it is actually pretty easy. OK, I'll admit, I do have some cooking experience, primarily due to imitating my mother and grandmother's great southern prowess in the kitchen, but I venture to wager even they have never made an artisan bread loaf.

In fact, I remember the very first time I tasted home made bread; It was made by the wife of a good friend of mine and the year was 1983. She was a devout Mormon woman and probably one of the most industrious homemakers I have ever met. I was amazed by both the wonderful taste, as well as the obvious difficulty involved in the task.

Years later, my wife and I find ourselves on the same journey towards self reliance and wholesome nutritional intake that are quickly becoming lost in an age of food commercialization and profit margins. While convenient to rely on the local grocery store for wonder bread, there is a certain sense of pride, not to mention the nutritional value and a small step towards independence and self sufficiency, in making your own bread.

I have not yet taken the leap of growing and grinding my own grains, but that day will come. For now, I am still purchasing bread flour, yeast and raw grains locally, but I am learning the joy and satisfaction of doing it myself, and that is priceless.

The recipe is simple, and I cannot take credit for coming up with it. I am an avid reader of things hands on and practical, and the credit for my success goes to a book entitled, "Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day", by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francios. I first learned of this method in an article published by Mother Earth News, and although I'm not sure about the five minutes a day part, the process is amazingly simple, and it works. Even if you have never made bread before, by your second or third batch you will feel like a pro at it, and best of all, you will never have to eat mass produced wonder bread again.

Here is the basic recipe for Artisan Boule:
(yields four 1 pound loaves)

3 cups warm water
1 1/2 tbsp granulated yeast (1 1/2 packets)
1 1/2 tbsp ground sea salt
6 1/2 cups bread flour (not self-rising flour)

*add yeast and salt to water and stir
*mix the ingredients but do not kneed. the dough will be loose and slightly wet
*cover loosely and allow to rise approx 2 hours
*put it in the refrigerator until you are ready to make a loaf
*pinch a 1 pound ball of dough and quickly form it
*let it set for 90 minutes
*place it on a baking stone in the oven (preheated to 450 degrees)

you will want to have a broiler pan in the oven while preheating, and pour 1 cup hot water into the pan after placing the loaf in. quickly close the oven door to trap in the steam. After about 30 minutes it is done.

Experiment with grains, oats and spices and I suggest some fine extra virgin olive oil for dipping. Enjoy!

The journey begins

As long as I can remember, I have loved the mountains. Growing up, I had an aunt and uncle who owned a rustic cabin in the mountains of northeast Georgia, and fondly remember the countless weekends the whole family would spend there together. Since those days many years ago, I have longed for my own little slice of paradise, and these notes are intended to describe the journey that began so many years ago, as they slowly evolve into reality.

I should preface this by saying that I am not paranoid or a doomsday subscriber, but I am concerned with the direction our world, and society in general, seem to be headed. We have become too dependent on others for our survival, and by "others", I mean everything from government to technology.

Hurricane Katrina was a huge wake up call for me. As I sat there in a long line of panicked motorists somewhere in South Carolina at one of the few gas stations who actually had fuel, eagerly hoping for my chance to pay over $4.00 a gallon for enough fuel to get me back home. The question quickly became, "What if there is no fuel for the trucks to bring food to the grocery store?" I soon realized that each of us are just a few days away from anarchy, or worse, starvation.

The situation eventually improved, and anarchy was avoided this time, but for me, that question, and many more, remained. With a new sense of urgency, we stepped up the search process for our dream plot of land- a place where we could begin to slowly regain control of our fate.

I won't go into the details of what a pain in the ass it is to find the perfect plot of land, nor the endless hours every free weekend of driving into the middle of nowhere only to find the actual plot was nothing like the description in the sales ad. But one day, after looking at half a dozen parcels, we decided we had just enough time left before dark to view one more.

The drive in was beautiful. A small country road wound it's way through the most beautiful valley of deep green flat land, surrounded by towering hills full of hardwoods. A rolling trout stream ran along the roadside and into the pasture fields creating a postcard landscape. An old hand hewn barn marked one end of the property, and way down the road, a wooden fence marked the other end. In between were acres of flat pasture land at the base of a mountain full of hardwood trees. The property line extended all the way up the mountain, and held within it's boundaries 29 acres of the most beautiful land I had ever stood on.

Before we drove off, I had already envisioned where to put the garden, walked off the area that would one day contain the fruit and nut orchard, found the best spot on the river to place the hydro generator, located the knoll on which the house would occupy, identified where the raspberries, blackberries and blueberry bushes would thrive, and had a pretty good idea where the vineyard would go.

I am thrilled to say that we closed on the land in December, and the journey has begun. Our first act of dependence defiance was to install a small solar collector on the barn and attach three LED flood lamps to illuminate the barn and the newly hung Christmas wreath- a very fitting start.




footnote:
If you have never read it, I would highly suggest picking up a copy of Barbara Kingsolver's book, Animal Vegetable Miracle: A Year of Food Life. She more eloquently expresses the feeling we, and many others we are finding, share regarding the foods we consume and the commercial aspects involved in their delivery to your table.