Showing posts with label urban farming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label urban farming. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

resurrection

...Is this thing on?

Maybe someone will see this, in the off-chance that small red house has been hibernating away on your blogroll, in your bookmarks, on your Google Reader, even. Well, hello, there.

These have been a real crackerjack eight months, haven't they? Last I checked, the President was making up words like "arbo-tree-ist", and here we are just a few months later and they've got an organic vegetable garden at the White House. Hot damn!

Then there's this messy business of what they're calling a global economic crisis, but some of us didn't have much money to begin with, and we already live off of lentils and flush our toilets with buckets of water from the shower, so we're not hurting any more than before. Yet.

What else is new? The big girl is 8 now. She reads whole books cover-to-cover and has the attention span to watch A Hard Day's Night in its entirety on YouTube with us. Good times.

And in the fall, we got a new cat. Actually, we were sort of given a new cat. My friend Rachel found her in Baltimore in front of the Rite-Aid at 32nd and Greenmount. She was a little...uncivilized at first, but has settled in really nicely:


One internet habit I've been decent at keeping up all this time is garden tracking on Folia. If you garden/farm, it's worth checking out. You can see all the details on my Folia page, but this year we're growing more tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, and spinach, plus some new stuff like daikon radishes and little compact softball-sized muskmelons. We've also planted more flowers in hopes of getting more pollinators to hang around (and to improve nectar flow for the bees that we may, someday in our dreams, keep in our backyard).

So I guess we're back. At least I am, for now. I'll write in more detail about other happenings in the next few posts. Hope life has been treating all of you well.

Read more...

Thursday, May 29, 2008

what else is new

I started reading a new book called Homestead Year, written in the early- to mid-1990s when many of the back-to-the-land folks had since gone back-to-the-yuppie-suburbs and Al Gore was just a boring vice president. At least to me--but I was about ten years old during the title year and really wasn't concerned with a lot more than how many different colors of slouch socks I owned.
Anyway, so far, so good. Although I would like to say I'm a little tired of authors who talk about farming on a humble acre of land. With all due respect, cry me a river, guys. Come take a look at our streetcar suburb lot of about a sixth of an acre, plagued by a north-facing slant, too much shade, and the ever-encroaching bamboo and ailanthus, and maybe you will feel a little better. Not only that, but this is the most land I've lived on since I lived with my parents. Up until this year, I was lucky to have a rooftop or a balcony for a little outdoor space. But I suppose the point here is that however small our space may seem to us, we've got to try to make the best of it. (Jacob often refers me to the story of the cow in the house).

One way I found to use less space is potatoes planted in an old trash can:

This is one of many, many experiments we've got going on in the garden. It's pretty much all experiments right now, because we barely know what we're doing, and this is our first season living here. But the potatoes have been pretty easy so far:
I just scrubbed out an old trash can and rinsed with hot water and distilled vinegar, drilled several holes in the bottom, planted some seed potatoes in some soil at the bottom of the trash can and they've gone from there. Every time they get a few inches taller, we cover them with old dead leaves, coir or light soil. I planted these in March, so supposedly in a couple more months, the plants will flower and die back and we'll have a trash can full of potatoes. I'll believe it when I see it...potatoes and root crops make me nervous because you can't see what's going on! But I really hope it works, because this has probably been one of the easiest projects.


The collard greens were an impulse buy of Jacob's at the co-op one day, and they were really suffering for a while, but now they are doing well. I love collard greens. I just want to bite 'em. (Upon further inspection, it looks like something has, in fact, bitten them. Hm...)


Here's another experiment. We had an old birdbath lying under our deck, so I thought I'd plant something with shallow roots in it, like lettuce. Cute idea, but kind of stupid, seeing as how birdbaths do not drain. I don't want to use this as a real birdbath, though, because we have a crazy mosquito problem around here.

What else is on the deck?
Ah, yes. As you can see, we do not have a clothesline yet. It seems like money evaporates when the weather gets warm. It's on the list, and the drying rack works fine for now.


In front of the house is Khymi's flowerbed, a lesson in delayed gratification. There are zinnias, cosmos, and...some other stuff. We take care of it when she's not here, but we still let her take most of the credit.

I have been waiting and waiting for these lovely peonies to bloom. See, I am not a pink hater.

The newest thing out front is our tomato trellis. We saw a blurb about tomato trellising in Organic Gardening and thought we might as well get some use out of that damned bamboo. We'll be growing cucumbers, and maybe pole beans, on the tripods. The bed is a lasagna garden with layers of coir, municipal leaf compost, decomposed horse manure, and our backyard compost. More experiments!

Here's something we did not grow:
Mulberries! There is a big, huge mulberry tree, and we didn't even notice last summer because it was later on when we moved here. Naturally, it is over the the driveway, so we have had to park our (white) car on the street for the past few days. Anyway, you can see that a lot of them are just about to ripen! A few have ripened already, and I got about a pound this afternoon just by shaking the branches within my reach:

(The white petals are from an adjacent tree).

I don't adore the taste of mulberries, but they're good, and there are so many that we thought we ought to do something with them. I've read that they make good wine, but we don't have the equipment for that. Any other suggestions?

Remember how pleased we were when we finally conquered the bamboo back in February? Sure enough, it's back with a vengeance:


Ugh. It's growing faster than we can keep up with it. Let's talk about something else.

Like jam! Look at those little jars. They just look happy. I didn't think it would be possible, but almost all the strawberries are used up or frozen.

Well, that's where we're at, and it's almost June. With any luck, I'll have much to report in a month or two. Hope you're all enjoying these sunny days.

Read more...

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

little farmers


We were happy to have Khymi here for a few days last week. It seemed like she wanted to spend every spare moment in the garden, getting friends and neighbors in on the action whenever possible. Even just in the last year, I feel like she's gone from being this little kid who constantly needs help (or thinks she does) to being capable of just about anything. Sometimes she still needs a step stool, though.


Read more...

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

spring has sprung!







You can't see, but there are little lettuce sprouts in the cold frame. I built it myself! It was mostly easy and fun. All you need are:

-An old window (from a junk yard or building surplus)
-Some scrap 2 x 6s or whatever other size lumber you prefer (cut to fit the window and build a box higher in the top than the back, which means you'll have to have two triangle-shaped pieces to create an incline)
-Hinges
-Nails or screws
-A saw
-A tape measure
-Some scrap 2 x 2s or thereabouts for corner posts
-A hasp or latch of some kind (optional)
-Weather stripping (also optional)

The only thing that I couldn't do myself was cut the one piece on the diagonal to make two triangles. I had to have my dad help me because he has a band saw. But if you have and are handy with a rip saw (I do not, and I am not), that is an option, too. I also didn't use carpenter's glue, but that might have been helpful.

I would write more detailed directions, but I didn't have any. I had to figure it out for myself, and I imagine that someone with better visual sense would make fewer mistakes than I did if they just took the time to make a diagram. I just made mistakes anyway, and then took it apart and put it back together again. It worked out in the end.

Read more...

Saturday, February 23, 2008

dirt farmin'

Last weekend, I was again consumed with berserker fury against the forces of Backyard Bamboo Evil. I know you have little basis for comparison, but trust me when I say that the below pic would have shown an obscure screen of green before then.

M sez: Look, a house! Wow!

That's the view straight back from the house. At the left-hand corner is what was once a garden plot, but has long since been overgrown with you-know-what, of course.

Unlike every other patch of overgrowth, though, a bit of scraping revealed this one to be covering a cauldron of black gold!


Teh Dirt Hole.

Black gold meaning here not coal, but its much, much, much younger cousin: loose, airy, cakey, rich, loamy topsoil.



Either the spot was a former compost heap (I found peach pits, a straw, and oval fruit stickers), or it just built up lots of humus from years of bamboo leaves, or more likely both (bamboo leaves take a long time to break down). Anyway, I stripmined it as best I could with a shovel and paint bucket and hauled it over to the garden bed. After a few trips, I had 6" deep of perfect, organic, and unbeatably local topsoil for FREE. (We had just bought two 40-lb. bags of "organic" topsoil, supposedly from WV, for $2.49 each. They barely covered the 32-square-foot bed.)



See, the bamboo is good for something! At least for separating plant rows. With topsoil down, 36 spinach seeds were in their new homes in a matter of minutes!

Also, we planted lettuce in yet another type of repurposed planter:

Now with extra Omega-3s!

In 1 week, 18 of 24 little pellets have turned into cheery green stalks!

Even when I'm stuck indoors, doing French homework on a rainy day, the natural world won't leave me alone. I leave you with our new pal, happily lunching in the damp.

M Cardinal sez: J'ai peut-ĂȘtre froid, mais je n'ai plus faim!

Read more...

Sunday, February 10, 2008

the tougher the bamboo, the sweeter the victory!

When we moved into the Small Red House back in July, we quickly learned that there were two types of bamboo. The nice type is called "clumping bamboo", because it grows in neat, orderly clumps, right where you wanted it. And then there's "running bamboo", which sends out tendrils underground that push up new shoots wherever they can. Naturally, that's the kind we inherited all over the yard.


As you can see, the bamboo had conquered the property. One couldn't see the street or the neighbors', and it was no accident that the patch in the picture above became a home for empty liquor bottles and fussing, defecating sparrows. A tenant's desire for privacy is understandable, I'll allow, but the bamboo had taken that inch and grabbed a mile. The Potomac-Anacostia basin may be a swamp, but we'd be damned if we let it remain a jungle.

Among the lessons of the past half-year has come intimate, inexplicable knowledge of the ways of running bamboo and its sworn enemies, the lopping shears and the mattock. Lopping shears can fell and trim, but only the mattock can rend greedy roots from the ground they have colonized.

So vast was the task that I found ways to break it into manageable chunks. First came the clearing of one garden bed in front of the house. (See before and after.) Then came the legitimate distractions: I'd be out with the mattock anyway, breaking clods within the garden frame, and I'd inevitably find myself in the corner of the backyard yanking up long yellow tentacles. The backyard still bears the brown, rutty scars of those battles.

Fast forward to this weekend. With spring on the horizon and a newfound consciousness as gardeners, we have become all too aware of our plot's disadvantageous lay: it slopes northward, it extends east-to-west, with the house shading one side or the other half the day, and the uphill neighbors' house blots out a good chunk of our southern exposure. Perhaps the only thing we can do to improve our latent garden's sunny chances, we realized, was to strip away the 8'-10' walls of bamboo that lined the southern, uphill fence. Somehow, without prior discussion, we tacitly agreed that yesterday was the appointed day. Maybe it was the 60-degree, mosquito-free weather. Maybe it was the homework that faced us inside. Whatever it was, the bamboo had to die.

After a couple hours, I had cleared the front fenceline and went to the back to thin the 20'-30' stalks around the swingset. Maria fetched some shears and trimmers from her folks' and hacked down the clump by the sidewalk (at which I had made a small dent over the preceding months). By sundown, our yard had doubled and our street opened its arms to our view.





My zeal was waning around the swingset, so I contented myself with clearing some holes to let the sun through and to give Khymi some more space to play. (Click here to compare.)


Besides the original bamboo-cum-leaf pile, the backyard now sported two new bamboo piles. One for the shorter ones from the front...


...and one for the giants in back.

(For scale, note that the garden bed is 4' x 8'!)

Anyone know a hungry panda?
Barring that, maybe we'll make some windchimes.

Mind you, we're under no illusions. Unless we pour Roundup (per Annie) or Essig-Essenz (per Jon Singer) down the stems, the roots will send up plenty new shoots in the spring. Perhaps this was the inspiration for the tale of Cadmus and the soldiers who sprang up from the ground. I suppose the modern analogue is the touting of bamboo as "renewable". But what's a renewable resource in one place is a doggone weed elsewhere. Whatever. We'll be ready for 'em!

Read more...

little green babies...

Maria tells me I am a bad brother. Last weekend, while calling my brother, I noticed that the first tomato seed-leaves were poking up out of the planter. Like any first-time gardener, I couldn't contain my amazement and started shrieking about how we were having a baby! This naturally amazed and befuddled my poor brother, which amazement and befuddlement quickly turned to irritation when he realized I was talking about tomatoes. Apparently nightshades don't exactly put one in an avuncular state of mind.

But I've already gotten ahead of myself.

I've read and been told that first-time gardeners tend toward overeagerness: they plant too early, thin too little, water too much. Even with this warning, and for all our almanac-checking and calendar-comparing, we probably started our tomatoes and peppers too early. Ah well. What can I say: we wanted to stop reading and start planting already!

In order to save money and pursue the reduce-and-reuse-before-recycling ethic, we had some fun making our own planters out of toilet paper tubes. (The VERY VERY EASY process is documented on YouGrowGirl.com.) To spur germination, we made the seeds a greenhouse out of a translucent plastic bin we had lying around, which we covered with a translucent piece of plastic we cut from a bag. We sprayed in a little moisture and set it on a radiator in a window, et voilĂ ! the first tomato sprouts popped out in three days' time! So that the shoots wouldn't rot in the moisture, we moved the sprouted planters one by one off the radiator, into mini-greenhouses we made out of plastic milk jugs.

After two weeks, 3/4 of the tomato seeds sprouted - nine in all. Of the nine fish pepper seeds we planted, four have sprouted so far. We're still waiting on another trio of fish peppers and one of bell peppers.

Care for a tour?

The sprouting greenhouse:


The post-sprouting greenhouses:


Tomato seedlings in their tubes, in a milk jug greenhouse:


A fish pepper seedling in its own mini-greenhouse/planter:

Read more...

Monday, January 14, 2008

news from the land of the non-flu

I have been sick for the last week, and according to my doctor, it looked like the flu and walked like the flu but was not the flu. I barely ate anything all week and pretty much stayed in bed with a fever. When I could eat, it was the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, applesauce and toast). It was mostly Not Fun.

I had lots of time to read Wikipedia, catch up on the blogs and do a lot of napping. I also spent some time contemplating why many intelligent grown people cannot use proper punctuation to distinguish between contractions and possessives ("you're" vs. "your", "it's" vs. "its") or between plurals and possessives ("cats" vs. "cat's"). This first started off as indignant and self-righteous, but quickly progressed beyond the judgmental to the illness-induced philosophical. Maybe it's unnatural. Maybe there's just something wrong with me! You can take the girl out of the egghead linguistics department...

Well, it only took a week, but it looks like I survived the non-flu. I'm mostly better, apart from some lingering weirdness in the kishkes and an occasional coughing fit.

Yesterday I even ate three regular meals, including pizza and spicy food. I even had the energy to cook dinner last night (trying to make up for last week, when Jacob would arrive home at 7 PM and I'd have to say, "Sorry I didn't get dinner started; I had to open a bottle of juice earlier today and then I had to go lie down. No, I'm not hungry"). We had hot and sour sweet potato curry, brown rice and baby collards (local potatoes + greens!). No issues except it was probably too soon for me to be drinking a entire glass of milk. So far, so good.

An inadvertent side-effect of the non-flu was that I had to stop drinking coffee. I had been nursing a small but unmistakable addiction--just one cup a day, but woe betide me if I didn't have that one cup. When I got sick, I lost my appetite for everything, including coffee, and the withdrawal symptoms were unnoticeable amidst the general malaise. Today is the first day I would have even considered coffee, but when I got up I made myself some nice darjeeling tea instead. I don't really even miss it. Yet.

Another side note: I was on a quest for organic, HFCS-free Saltine-like crackers once I started feeling a little better. I was happy to find Suzie's 100% Organic Crackers at our local co-op, but dismayed once I opened the package to find twelve individually-wrapped servings. Why? Why??? If I want a portable individual serving of crackers, I can put eight crackers in a reusable container myself. Moreover, this is not a magical power that only I possess. Maybe they're concerned with the crackers going stale? In that case, there's got to be a better way.

In other news, we ventured out to the farmers' market in the cold yesterday, and then to the library to continue our mission of building a fort out of gardening books. I mean, checking out gardening books, ostensibly to somehow apply the information inside them to our yard.

This will be our first spring here, and we're trying not to bite off more than we can chew. It's not like we are going to be able to grow everything we like to eat. We sat down and made "Top 5" wish lists of vegetables, and figured out how many of each thing we'll be able to maintain. But we know it'll be mostly trial-and-error. Luckily, we are also going halvesies with my parents on a CSA share from Avian Mead Organics this season, so between that, the garden and the farmers' market, we should be able to have all the produce we need.

In other other news, I am supposed to be catching up on work now that I'm feeling better, so naturally my computer speakers won't turn on (part of what I do involves listening to interview audio). It's always something.

Read more...

Sunday, September 23, 2007

a better grasstrap

What if I told you, dear reader, that you could have a better lawnmower?
What if I said this mower never clogs?
Always starts?
No expensive repair necessary?
No extra expense of gas or electric bills?
100 percent emission-free?
Less noisy, with only a pleasant, intermittent whir?
So safe you can even use it with sandals?
No risk of flipping over?
And best of all, cuts grass just about as well as a motorized mower, with only a little added exercise from you?

Gee, you say, why haven't I heard about these innovative new mowers?

Oh, because this technology isn't actually new. It's OLD and QUAINT and therefore supposedly OBSOLETE. You see, we just got a reel mower. You know, the kind of thing you push, and it makes the wheels turn, which makes these blades spin around and cut the grass. It uses food-calories instead of fossil-fuel calories. So you see, this new advancement, superior to the rotary mower, is actually OLD. Maybe that's why you haven't heard about it. Because hey, older technology can't possibly work better than newer stuff, right?



The best part of all? It's practically brand-new, and we got it for FREE instead of paying $100. (CraigsList: It's the new Amazon.)

Gee, you say, how does one swing that?

It's easy. You wouldn't believe how many people want to get rid of reel mowers once they get something motorized and fossil-fuel burning. On one side are all the benefits I listed above. On the other are, well, uh, a somewhat faster and somewhat closer shave, or in other words, the same quality with a little less human effort. Oh, and the technology is NEWER, so it must be better than that which is OLD.

To which we say: Fine! Please! Give 'em away! Joke's on you, suckers...

For now, I'll be nursing my blisters and - at last, after weeks cursing a broken-down gas mower - basking in the sweet smell of fresh-cut grass.

Read more...