Slow Starting Spring

I'm running out of things to do in the house, at least things I want to do. Its not that there aren't things to do outside but I just can't seem to face the weather for very long. On Monday in full sunny warm-ish weather, though, I had a great crew over and we did some MAJOR cleaning. 20 years of extra things I saved were sorted through. The horse trailer was full and went to the incinerator, (I was sure I would use those old storm windows) and the truck and car carrier took a load up to the scrap yard. It was worth $235. Now the grainery can be painted to match the barn. There is more cleaning and sorting to do but this was a great start. I couldn't have tackled it without the willing hands of so many. As the cool wet spring continues, all the work of tillage and planting that requires dry, warm soil gets compressed into a smaller and smaller window. I can wish it were warm but that doesn't make it so. Putting seeds and potatoes in the cold wet ground can be counter productive. Luckily I have the hoop houses covered and the soil will dry out in there and be ready soon for some early plantings. The greenhouse is a nice refuge and is bursting with young plants and the possibilities of a great bounty later in the summer. We started tomato plants earlier this year and they are looking amazing. Its full though and the onion plants are temporarily on the floor waiting for the snow showers to pass.

Cold Winter Mornings

I woke up to a very cold morning. I don't know the exact temperature but I look at two things, the needles on the big white pine by the kitchen and the frost on the old basement door. When condensation is frozen to the highest part of the panes, then it is at least 10 below zero. The needles on the pine squeeze closer together the colder it is and they are held together this morning like the ... well, (insert your favorite metaphor here). I wonder why someone would want to move here. Yet everything is glittery with ice crystals and life is somehow distilled in the winter to the essentials, dealing with water, staying warm, cutting wood, relaxing by the fire visiting with friends. Each day dawns with a list of things to do, some more critical, some less. The chair by the fire is alluring and writing an email instead of figuring out my new year's bank balance and starting a new quicken account wins out.

When I go out to the barn on these mornings, each animal emerges from its warm place. The cats come stretching, from a nook in the hay bales where they have made a warm nest; the pigs heave themselves out from the piles of hay and the horses just stand, oblivious of the cold in their warm coats and compact bodies. Fjord horses have extra short, thick ears that make me feel warm just looking at them. The chickens sit with all their feathers fluffed out like miniature feather beds, their toes tucked under, protected. They rise and shake out the warm air and get about the business of eating. Fresh water is welcomed and they each come up, ducking their heads and then rising the let the cold water run down their throats. The rooster makes a throaty clucking to alert the hens to the left over beans I have scattered on the floor.

I rise the same way, sliding out from under the cozy feather comforter. The area of warmth around the wood stove is smaller as the outside cold encroaches. The clothes on the floor of my little bedroom are cold but I am still warm from the bed and the cotton long johns feel refreshing. There is an order to do things to get the house up and going. Open the air control knob on the stove and watch the coals leap to life. As they glow, I head to the bathroom, stopping to run water in the bucket to fill the big kettle on the wood stove. Back I come, gathering up the bucket and adding to my hot water supply. I turned off my hot water heater a few weeks ago, wondering what that would be like. So far, not too bad. I carry water to the kitchen sink to do dishes. Putting my hands in cold water just doesn't cut it and grease is easier to dissolve with some heat. I use much less water this way and it is not hard. I don't shower a lot in the winter anyway and pouring water over my head covers me in large bursts of hot water that a shower doesn't offer. Clothes are OK washed in cold water.

Last year I used my electric baseboard heaters as supplement heat to the wood stove but not this year. For my own feeling of security, I want to know what its like to just have the wood. Not bad with just me here, but would someone else sharing my house think I was crazy? Am I crazy or is the rest of the consuming-world mad? 100 species go extinct each day. Polar bears, the poster children of Global Climate Change, are drowning. The little part of me that is desperate about this feels good about the wood stove heated water but am I crazy? I have a life that lends itself to this eccentricity. I have time in the winter, I don't have a job outside the house. I don't have to have clothes, hair and makeup a certain way to pass in the "outside world." A basic, simple life is good in theory, I am testing how it is for real.

Letter to the Editor I wrote and sent to the local newspaper and the Eau Claire Leader Telegram:

Dear Readers,

An important election is coming up and we are barraged by too many ads with throwaway lines and attacks. Most of us are feeling the pinch of the declining economy, which has for many decades funneled wealth to the few in amounts not seen since just before the great depression. We are scared and we are uncertain and this makes us angry. We want to blame someone. There are walls of deception that those controlling the wealth and power have used through out history to shield themselves from attacks and accountability. These walls are composed of the latest minority who can be blamed for our ills. We are turned against each other while the controlling system and those who occupy the seats of power watch the puppet show from a safe distance. Don’t be confused and misled. Historically those in power have blamed ethnic minorities, a certain religious group such as Jews or Catholics, even the Amish. Now we blame our black President, Jews and Muslims, politicians, the poor, gay people, immigrants, or anyone at hand who is different. While it is true that angry, confused people want to harm us, much of the rhetoric is part of the shield for the rich.

The human spirit at its core is generous and kind. We ALL want our children, community and friends to do well and be happy. We want meaningful work and close connections with people. I don’t think the government can provide us those things, but I know they can take them away by confusing and dividing us, by pointing out our differences instead seeing what we have in common. Many of the political ads say that our taxes are too high and that if we could just lower our taxes, life would go better. I would be happy to pay 30% of my income in taxes if I knew that this money went to providing good, preventative health care, building an infrastructure based on renewable energy, supporting our troops to defend against people who are confused about us and making sure our children have a good education and a healthy, safe life and much more. I am able bodied and can work. I am willing to share what I make so that we can all have a shot at a satisfying life. I am not very willing to share when the money goes to fund politicians backed by large greedy corporations, wars that are unjustified or subsidies for wildly profitable oil companies. We have been given the message that if we just buy enough things we will be happy. How is that going for you?

When you are asked to support candidates that say they will protect you from “them”, or “those people” who are to blame for all of the mess, make sure you are not just hearing the echoes from the wall of protection around the rich and powerful. These are knives that cut and divide us. People who do the real work, grow the food and educate our children, care for our elderly and collect our garbage, milk our cows and catch our fish, make our clothes and fix our power lines, process our turkeys and fix our cars, drive our buses and cook our food, make our music, keep our libraries, keep track of our checking accounts, cut our hair, harvest our fields, publish our newspapers and sell us food, these are the people who produce the real wealth and make our community strong. Even the rich, who so desperately cling to their false security just want the same things for their children and the world. They are just so confused and scared that they can’t think. Don’t be confused too.

Sincerely,

Kate Stout

My cool new tool, a flail mower. We are taking down some sorgum-sudan grass.

Inventions

I love inventing things. It is one of the rewarding challenges that comes with my job and life. Recently I have been perfecting my solar shower. Last year, I had one in the greenhouse that was heated by filling a large coil of black plastic irrigation tubing with water. One end goes into a bucket and the other is attached to the cold water. When I am ready for a shower, I turn on the faucet and it pushes the hot water into the bucket. The bucket is suspended overhead and a toilet flapper lets out the water in a satisfying WHOOSH when you pull a string. This provides enough water for a long-ish shower. The drawback was that as soon as the sun went down, or if it clouded up at the end of the day, boom, no hot water.
The water in my new system thermosyphons into the bucket and it can be insulated. As water warms, it expands, causing it to rise. It has to go up in a continuously rising tube to work. One of my goals with this shower is to use parts and hardware that can be purchased at Fleet farm. Two black garden hoses are connected and provide the heating surface. In the picture, you can see the shadow of the heated water reflected on the bottom of the bucket. The jury is out on whether the volume of the hoses will be enough to heat the volume of the bucket, I'll keep you posted. I built the shower stall but my friend Mark Olson did the decorative joists on the top.

Riding the Rhythm

There is a quiet turning point that happens near the end of June; a moment when there is an easing of the frenzy of the past two months. It feels like the small relaxation that comes with the sound of the rain on the leaves when it has been dry. I am almost at that moment with the farm. Most of the cover crops are up but not ready to plow under. Most of the vegetable plants are in the ground. Most of the seeds are planted and the successions have been set up. The fall broccoli is planted and up. There is more to do, there is always more to do, but it seems manageable now and I can relax a just little.

The plants have started their own move towards maturity and can survive a certain amount of insect damage. Sure, the potatoes need to be sprayed with Entrust to kill the bugs who can strip the plants in a week, but the rest are getting on with the business of thriving. The first few deliveries have been made and the number of bags at the drop sites has solidified and is set. Now I can ride the rhythm of the summer's beat: deliver, harvest, plant, weed. It pulls me along instead of me pushing it into place.

There are still the emergencies that call for extra attention, the sick animal or the missed bag, but most of it has begun to roll along and I can just hang on for the thrilling ride.

Here we go!

The recent rains have the vegetables springing out of the ground. There is a delicate balance between rains and dry periods for vegetable growth and weed management. In my large garden(4 acres), I have the best luck with weed control when I can get into the garden with the horse-drawn cultivator. This marvel of engineering digs up the weeds and leaves them to wither on the surface of the soil. Wither when the soil is dry. When it is damp, followed with a rain, they are just replanted. Tilling the soil when it is too wet causes soil compaction.

When it is dry and I am desperate for rain, I scan the forecast eagerly for any sign of rain. As soon as it has rained enough, I look with equal urgency for a dry spell to transplant, seed and cultivate. I would rather have it on the wet side though than dry. Hand weeding is always an option although slower and more costly. Its all a trade off because more moist soil makes pulling weeds easier.

New technology enters our lives as a marvel and quickly seems indispensable. I scan the radar like an oracle and try and project the movement of the storm cells. Its doesn't affect the outcome, but I am addicted none the less.

Right now I am thankful for the moisture and cooler temperatures. Within days and sometimes hours, I will be wondering when it will dry out so I can get some work done!