On the Garden Path at 5~Acre Farm: vegetables

Thursday, January 12, 2012

The Winter Garden is Thriving!

So, while the sun was out and shining for a few minutes the other day, I grabbed my camera and ran out to get a few pictures of our winter garden.

Everyone always says to get the plants in the ground in August, but we never seem to get them in before September, which means we don't get a fall harvest by November. Instead, the veggies winter over, and we get a great harvest in the spring. This year it will be collards, cabbage, and broccoli.

In the winter months of 2009, we had a pretty significant snow for this area. 3-4 inches, and it covered the garden completely. I went out and started knocking snow off the broccoli plants, then decided to leave it. I wanted to see if the plants were really hardy, and guess what, they were! The broccoli and all the plants came through the snow and cold and gave us an excellent harvest in the spring.

Hey, everybody, look really close at the last photo. Look through the dead tomato vines, to the other side of the fence. See that little brown spot in the middle of the picture? That's my new
puppy, Samantha.

She's a bit upset because she can't get into the garden with me. Samantha is
a mini-dachshund, and I got her in early December. She is so wonderful! She blesses us all, especially my father. She has kept him laughing and entertained daily, and that's good because he doesn't have time to get sad missing my mother. That's why, in an earlier post this week, I called her medicine to my soul. She's medicine to all of us!

Friday, May 15, 2009

Dance As If You're Falling On Your Face

Well, I got absolutely nothing done yesterday. I'd pushed hard the day before, getting a lot done, and had no energy left for yesterday. But this morning, however, I was up and out early once more. I moved the chicken kite to a new area, fed the chickens, and sat for a few minutes watching the birds do their morning stretching and dancing. Then it was off to the garden.

This morning I planted 14 yellow squash (straightneck and crookneck), 2 okra, and a horde of peppers! I didn't get the chance to count, but I thought there were at least 24 jalapenos, 2 giant jalapenos, 3 red hot cherry peppers, 3 pimiento, 12 sweet banana, and 18 green bell. I also planted 2 Japenese vining cucumbers at the base of an 8 foot tall garden windmill. The next time out, I'll add several pickling cukes I've grown from seed. It will be great to watch them climb that windmill.

Everything was going really well this morning. My energy level seemed fine, the temperature was comfortable, there was a cool breeze, and the sun wasn't too intense. So I wanted to keep working. I took two short breaks to make sure I didn't over-do it, sitting in the rocker sipping a cold drink while I watched the chickens and petted the dogs who were gathered around my feet.

After my second break, just before I was going to finish planting the peppers, I decided to clean up some of the trash that had accumulated in and around the garden. You know, those plastic collars around peat pots and the multi-plant trays, empty soil and mulch bags, and other stuff (I've got to get a trash can out there). John had left a number of very long pvc pipes on the driveway near the garden gate. He's going to cut them into lengths and use them as tomato stakes. They'd been there for a couple of days, but they hadn't been in my way before this morning.

Well, wouldn't you know it, while trying to step over them, my short legs didn't reach and I ended up standing on them. Because they are round, and not flat, my "standing" s udde nly became a dance as they rolled and I tried to stay upright. It was an ugly dance, but it didn't last long. I was on my face, on the pavement in a heartbeat. I got up with two scraped knees, a scraped elbow, and a tearful sense of defeat. I really thought I was going to get the rest of the veggies planted this morning.

I went in the house and John cleaned me up. I was upset, and it came out in anger. I spent the next 30 minutes screaming inappropriately about the pipes and the trash, and the unfinished work, etc. I hate that about myself. I got my temper under control a long, long time ago; but the "perfect storm" of my hormones rushing to the edge of the menopausal cliff like lemmings, unearthed in me a new level of uncontrolability several years ago, and my generously patient husband was frequently the target of my upset.

Actually, my tirade this morning was nothing compared to what I could have done two years ago. So maybe that's a sign that the storm is almost over.

I returned to the garden and finished planting the peppers, but my knees, which don't do kneeling well anyway, were hurting too much to do anything more. I'll have to finish planting the rest of the veggies another day.

Overall, I'm very happy with how the garden is coming, and I hope we will have a large, healthy harvest. I'm looking forward to canning lots of jalapenos for John, enjoying stuffed bell peppers (a rare treat usually), freezing and drying lots of squash, pickling jars and jars of cucumbers, eating-freezing-and-canning tons of tomatoes, and slicing open ice cold watermelon and cantaloupe when summer reaches it's hottest point in August.

Once my anger subsided, I quickly apologized to John for my outburst. Good husband that he is, he had already forgiven me. My knees will heal long before my heart heals and I forgive myself for letting my temper get away from me once again, however. For the past several years, my hormones seem to have more control of me than I do, and I don't like that.

Angry and irritable is not who I am. It's not who I've spent my life becoming; but this someone I sometimes don't know, this angry me, that snaps so quickly and so brutally at the one person who loves me so dearly... I hope she will be gone soon. I hope the person I once loved being will have a chance to return and finish out the last of my days on this earth, held in the loving, secure embrace of my husband, whom I do dearly love. I hope she will return and bring back the peace I used to know, and the joy I always felt in living each day in the grace and blessedness of knowing Christ, the center and source of my sole reason for being.

We're off to a local, popular fish camp tonight to have dinner with my mom and dad. John has eaten there since childhood, and has gone on and on about it since we wed. Tonight will be the first time for me and my folks. I hear they specialize in catfish, and my dad can certainly enjoy a plateful of catfish! My mom will want shrimp, I'm sure. Me? I think I'm in the mood for oysters! Ooooh!

John and Michelle, and 5 Acre Farm

How We Came To Be

John was born and raised in Georgia by parents who lived incredible lives of their own, and passed on to John a rich family history from both sides. He was a die hard Boy Scout, and later, spent 17 years as a Troop Leader. He earned a dual Agriculture/Agricultural Engineering degree at ABAC in Tipton, where he also started the college's radio station. After college, John served on nuclear submarines in the Navy, where he once saved the lives of his shipmates, and, rumor has it, did many incredible things in the service of our country. He married and had a family, and after the Navy, worked briefly with the EPA before opening his own HVAC-Refrigeration company. John was inventive as a child, and that carried over into everything in his life. He is a fixer of severe mechanical problems, and an inventor of all kinds of things that improve on or simplify existing machinery, equipment, and ideas. His inventions are unique, and some of them may some day aide humanity, save lives, and save our planet if we can get the right people to listen.

My dad was career Army. I was born in France, and introduced, at a very young age, to the Virginia countryside, where we raised rabbits and chickens. After dad retired, we moved to North Carolina, his home state, where we spent many years on the coast, near Wilmington. Here, we had a garden, raised cows, pigs, chickens, and ducks, and fished commercially. Our freezer was always full of fresh Spot and shrimp, and oyster roasts were a weekly event! As a young adult I lived with my family in the mountains south of Asheville. Here too we had a garden, raised cows, pigs, chickens, and ducks, as well as geese and peacocks. I worked for many years with an arts council, Christian organizations, and other non-profits. I helped train missionaries, researched/wrote grants, produced professional documents, edited newsletters, and wrote a lot of publicity materials. I already had two Associate degrees, but in my late 30s I finally completed an undergraduate degree in English/Art History. For 20 years I was active in community theater, sang solos with a community choir, and danced with a show choir. Treasured memories! I moved to Georgia in late 1998, and married my first husband in 2002. I was 45. Eighteen months later, I was widowed.

John and I first met in 2000. After I was widowed, and John was divorced, we found each other again. Of like minds, spirits, and goals, our hearts came together quickly, and we married in 2005. Each of us has undergone Elijah House training, and we were both ordained into ministry in 2006. I have been a Christian counselor and prayer warrior for probably 30 years. John and I live to put God first in our lives, and in our dreams for this small piece of earth of which we are the caretakers.

We call our place "5 Acre Farm." John's father took this barren, overworked field from a larger parcel of farmland in the mid-70s. He fenced off about three-quarters of an acre for the house, and added plants, flowers, and trees. Elsewhere, he transformed the property through years of hard work, adding an apple orchard, peach trees, pears, two fig orchards, grape vines, and a greenhouse. John and I have been trying to continue his father's work on this land, adding to it with our own hopes and dreams, and our late-in-life efforts. Not a day goes by that I don't feel great respect for John's father, for the man he was, for the work he did here, and gratitude for the bounty we reap because of his hard work.

John and I are in our 50s, just starting life together, but with age and health trying to work against us. We aren't ready to sit down and take it easy. We have a goal to become self-sufficient by growing our own food (meat and vegetables), and getting off the grid. The challenges we face in doing this are age, health, and finances. John's inventiveness is being strongly applied, as is my gift for budget stretching and frugality. Our strength? The love we have for each other, and the trust that we are working inside the will of God.

One of the things we ask ourselves now and then is this: "Is it worth it?" I never had children. John's son has set his own path with family and career. There does not seem to be anyone we can leave this property to who will continue the work and the dream; one of John's grandchildren, perhaps, but they are very young right now, and do not yet notice or care.

So, is it worth it (all the work and expense) if there is every chance this land will end up in the hands of developers after we're gone? Well, our answer to that question so far is always "Yes, it's worth it." It's worth it to us, because of what we are accomplishing here in our lifetime. It's worth it because what we grow here we share with family, with friends, and with our community. And not just what we grow, but our faith and philosophy, our hopes and dreams, and our very desire to leave at least our little part of the world better than it was when we found it. We are living - consciously, and deliberately - a lifestyle that expresses who we are and what we believe. Does anybody care? Why don't read our blog, leave a comment, and let us know.