I wouldn’t normally have another Farm Report ready until at least the weekend. But I ended up shifting part of my weekend to the workweek.
On Tuesday morning, I drove to the office as usual. “As usual” these days means heading to Nashville after dropping the girls off at their middle school around 7:00 AM. Yes, you read that correctly: I’m awake and in the car and ready to go at 6:45 AM. After all those years as a night person who could rarely fall asleep before midnight, my body clock seems to have shifted.
Some weeks ago, I began waking up at 6:00 AM for no apparent reason. Then I started going to bed at 10:30 PM instead of midnight and actually falling asleep. Well, usually. Since Chareva is busy trying to get all the cartoons for the book done, I told her I’d drive the girls to school. That’s a morning trip she doesn’t have to make, which gives her more drawing time. The early start also means I can leave the office around 3:45 PM, which gives me more writing time when I get home.
Anyway, I drove to the office on Tuesday, booted up my computer and … nothing. That is, nothing but a Windows startup screen that wouldn’t go away. I took it to the company PC lab where, after running an analysis, one of the techs told me they’d have to rebuild the thing. He said it would take at least five hours.
I told my supervisor he probably didn’t need me to just sit around all day, and offered to take the day off and work on Saturday. He agreed. I went home and spent a chunk of the day working on the film version of the book.
I drove to the office again on Wednesday morning. The PC had been raised from the dead, but the long list of programming tools required for my work hadn’t been installed. One of the techs told me it would take at least five hours. (I sometimes wonder if “at least five hours” is the standard estimate.) So once again, I told my supervisor I was willing to sit and watch the Olympics all day, but it probably wasn’t a good use of my time. He agreed and sent me home.
With Saturday already set aside for programming work, I told Chareva if there was any weekend farm work she wanted me to accomplish, the weekend was happening now, in the middle of the week. Turns out she did have a project in mind. Half her garden is played out for the summer, and she wanted me to till the soil to prepare it for cool-weather plants. Kale is one of those plants. That’s all she had to say. Just picture me with a big cardboard sign: WILL WORK FOR KALE.
I pushed the tiller up our back hill and wondered why the heck my thigh muscles were burning. I mean, it’s a heavy enough machine, but come on.
Geez, I would have sworn I was in better shape than this! Did I become a weenie during my programming marathon? Too much sitting in a chair?
Then I remembered: I had stopped at the gym for my workout after dropping the girls off at school. I was doing manual farm labor two-and-a-half hours after lifting weights.
Okay, no worries. You didn’t become a weenie. Just consider this an extra set with weights.
As you can see, weeds had invaded the garden after attempting to disguise themselves as plants deserving of water and other care. The tiller is tough and will take down weeds, but then the weeds wrap themselves around the blades like little ropes. So I decided it would be best to run The Beast through the area first.
Weeds had also taken over the chicken moats. They were so thick, the chickens lost interest in running around looking for bugs. So as long as I was feeding The Beast, I decided I may as well hack my way through the moats as well. I’m bent over like an old man in the photos below because we haven’t raised the nets with cattle panels in that moat.
There’s no room to turn The Beast around in the moats, so once I reach the end, I finish cutting by walking The Beast backwards. Glad that thing has a reverse gear.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m impressed with how well The Beast is built. I’ve also mentioned that I’m not impressed with the Toro lawnmower. That goes double now. Last weekend, the Toro shook itself into breaking down. There are parts that have sprung loose in the engine, a crack in the base of the engine, and an oil leak I can’t locate – but I can see the oil. So I had to quit mowing with this much left to go:
Yes, we’re on bumpy land, but it’s not as if I drive the Toro over boulders. Apparently it’s only tough enough for a suburban lawn. Guess I should see if the makers of The Beast produce lawnmowers as well.
After feeding The Beast, I took the tiller into the garden and turned up enough rocks to fill all the heads in Congress. Despite knocking down the tall weeds with The Beast, the tiller still found some weeds and vines and wrapped them around the blades. The Master Gardener/Farm Lady took on the chore of snipping away the mess to free the blades. She had to do this twice.
The tiller bucks like a bronco, and I have to manhandle the thing to keep it on track. But I managed to turn the soil in the garden.
Chareva is now threatening to get out there and plant those fall crops. Man, I’m looking forward to the kale. It’ll be a nice change from okra.
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Enough rocks to fill all those heads? You’ll likely have a lot left over since they’re all pretty full to begin with. Maybe you could branch out to the cabinet heads, supreme court, FBI, IRS, and while you’re at it, fill all the state level heads, too, and still have a truckload of rocks left over. Don’t bother with the current candidates. I don’t think you could fit a grain of sand in either head. Personally, I’m rooting for the giant meteor of 2016.
Enough rocks to fill all those heads? You’ll likely have a lot left over since they’re all pretty full to begin with. Maybe you could branch out to the cabinet heads, supreme court, FBI, IRS, and while you’re at it, fill all the state level heads, too, and still have a truckload of rocks left over. Don’t bother with the current candidates. I don’t think you could fit a grain of sand in either head. Personally, I’m rooting for the giant meteor of 2016.
Let’s add the USDA and FDA to the list of rocks-for-brains.
Might as well add the AMA and the associations for heart and diabetes to the list, as long as you have plenty of rocks. Also Weight Watchers. Also the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics, or whatever they’re currently calling themselves. I’m about halfway through Dr. Jason Fung’s book, The Obesity Code, and am appalled at the amount of really rotten advice we’ve been fed over the years, ESPECIALLY WHEN THERE WAS SO MUCH CONTRARY EVIDENCE AVAILABLE. Come to think of it, maybe I should check my own cranium for rocks — I kept going back to WW and following the rest of the rotten advice year after year, even though I could plainly see it wasn’t working. Somewhere along the line it should have occurred to me that if LFHC wasn’t working, maybe I should change course and try the opposite tack.
Grandma, wherever you are, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. You were right all along — it’s just taking science a little while to catch up with you.
I should have checked my own cranium for rocks when I kept trying low-fat diets.
You’ve insulted the brains of rocks.
Agreed.
BTW, finished reading Fung last night. I think I can throw about twenty other diet/nutrition/weight control books away. He seems to put every worthwhile thing that’s currently available together in one place, and he explains it in a way even this very science-challenged old lady can easily understand. Now I’m going to read it over again, and although I ordinarily consider it a sacrilege to mark in a book, I’m keeping my pencil handy.
My highlighter was put to good use while reading the book. For books I read as research, I consider highlighting to be a compliment. Also a necessity.
You *know* you have had too much okra when you start looking forward to kale. Belike, I am remembering kale from the last time I had it, which was before I went high fat and tried eating kale without butter.
Naw, I like the kale. Chareva roasts it with a little olive oil and salt. It’s delicious.
You *know* you have had too much okra when you start looking forward to kale. Belike, I am remembering kale from the last time I had it, which was before I went high fat and tried eating kale without butter.
Naw, I like the kale. Chareva roasts it with a little olive oil and salt. It’s delicious.
Never had a Toro mower but I did ditch my Craftsman mowers and bought a 60″ ZTR from Cub Cadet. I’ve had it 3 years now with no problems. I mow about 15 acres with it about every 3 weeks during the summer. Not all flat and level ground either. Just a thought.
We have Cub Cadet’s electric ZTR mower, and it is awesome. The only noise is the sound of the blades slicing through the air. It has four motors: one for each rear wheel and one on each cutting blade. The bearings are all sealed. No engine to maintain, no fuel, no belts. The batteries are sealed lead acid, which last longer the shallower they are discharged. A full charge would be able to do our entire lawn, but we do half, charge it back up, and mow the second half. We’ve had it a few years now and haven’t yet noticed any decline in battery capacity. Probably not a good choice for large acreages.
I really should have made an arrangement to come buy some okra. I’d love to eat okra every day (I think — haven’t actually tried it), and they don’t carry it at my Publix.
Well, we’ve certainly been eating it every day. Last night Chareva cooked it into some gumbo. Good stuff.
Never had a Toro mower but I did ditch my Craftsman mowers and bought a 60″ ZTR from Cub Cadet. I’ve had it 3 years now with no problems. I mow about 15 acres with it about every 3 weeks during the summer. Not all flat and level ground either. Just a thought.
I want one of those. First I need a place to store it.
We have Cub Cadet’s electric ZTR mower, and it is awesome. The only noise is the sound of the blades slicing through the air. It has four motors: one for each rear wheel and one on each cutting blade. The bearings are all sealed. No engine to maintain, no fuel, no belts. The batteries are sealed lead acid, which last longer the shallower they are discharged. A full charge would be able to do our entire lawn, but we do half, charge it back up, and mow the second half. We’ve had it a few years now and haven’t yet noticed any decline in battery capacity. Probably not a good choice for large acreages.
How large is large acreage?
It’s got a 42″ deck and can supposedly run for an hour with no loss of power. It’s meant for use on flat ground. If you’ve got more than an acre to mow, a gas mower is probably a better choice.
Gas it is. I haven’t added up how much of our land requires cutting, but it’s at least a few acres.
I really should have made an arrangement to come buy some okra. I’d love to eat okra every day (I think — haven’t actually tried it), and they don’t carry it at my Publix.
Well, we’ve certainly been eating it every day. Last night Chareva cooked it into some gumbo. Good stuff.
This reminds me of a study from long ago linking yard work with higher bone density than with other activities like jogging. One of the researchers thought of yardwork as a “dainty activity.” She must have lived in an apartment.
http://news.uark.edu/articles/10028/got-weeds-university-of-arkansas-researchers-say-yard-work-builds-strong-bones
Heh-heh … the researcher should spend a day working outside with Chareva and see how dainty she feels afterwards.
This reminds me of a study from long ago linking yard work with higher bone density than with other activities like jogging. One of the researchers thought of yardwork as a “dainty activity.” She must have lived in an apartment.
http://news.uark.edu/articles/10028/got-weeds-university-of-arkansas-researchers-say-yard-work-builds-strong-bones
Heh-heh … the researcher should spend a day working outside with Chareva and see how dainty she feels afterwards.
I love these farm reports! Jenny, I’m with you- I think I could eat okra every day. I was certainly jealous of Chareva’s okra crop which was “way over your head” tall. My crop this year has been pitiful in north Florida. Something it doesn’t like this year. I have gotten just a few pitiful cuttings.
If you haven’t tried it- okra tossed in a wee bit of olive oil and sprinkled generously with fresh ground Himalayan salt and pepper, and then dehydrated in a simple home dehydrator is a delicious snack. Watch out, though. The Salt Police might come get you!! Dehydrated, salted okra makes a great salty snack!
That is such beautiful land you have, Tom! I live vicariously through your farm reports!
I love these farm reports! Jenny, I’m with you- I think I could eat okra every day. I was certainly jealous of Chareva’s okra crop which was “way over your head” tall. My crop this year has been pitiful in north Florida. Something it doesn’t like this year. I have gotten just a few pitiful cuttings.
If you haven’t tried it- okra tossed in a wee bit of olive oil and sprinkled generously with fresh ground Himalayan salt and pepper, and then dehydrated in a simple home dehydrator is a delicious snack. Watch out, though. The Salt Police might come get you!! Dehydrated, salted okra makes a great salty snack!
That is such beautiful land you have, Tom! I live vicariously through your farm reports!
She’s got some okra dehydrated and sitting in jars. Don’t know if she salted it.
The bumper crop of okra is precisely the reason why (once I have my garden started started and producing) I want to host veggie swap parties. Admission will be 2 half bushels of home grown (or hunted) produce, eggs, meat etc.
But what if we all show up with bushels of okra?
The bumper crop of okra is precisely the reason why (once I have my garden started started and producing) I want to host veggie swap parties. Admission will be 2 half bushels of home grown (or hunted) produce, eggs, meat etc.
But what if we all show up with bushels of okra?
That could indeed be a problem. But, fortunately for others, I would never plant okra. Just loads and loads of tomatoes, peppers and zucchini.
Why don’t you just dump truckloads of woodchips in there, especially in those moats? Your chickens would turn them into compost/mulch for the garden.
That’s a thought. We do have piles of wood chips.
Why don’t you just dump truckloads of woodchips in there, especially in those moats? Your chickens would turn them into compost/mulch for the garden.
That’s a thought. We do have piles of wood chips.
Tom,
Are you tired of tilling, hoeing, and watering yet? I’m 49 and grew up in Arkansas gardening the way you do. Every spring I’d work like a maniac tilling, laying out rows, and planting. Then the hoeing. Then lots of watering. Eventually, the weeds and/or heat and lack of rain beat me.
Then a friend pointed me to “Back to Eden” gardening. If you’re lazy like me (I prefer “efficient”), give it a try. Once established, you can sell all your garden implements, including that bucking bronco of a tiller, for a garden rake and your wife’s flower planting trowel. No kidding. Here’s a link: https://vimeo.com/28055108
Best wishes…
Chareva watched that and has incorporated some of the ideas. But truth is, I like the work. I sit on my can all week programming for a living, so the hard work is a endorphin rush.
Unfortunately we’ve gone through most of the wood chip pile and need more.
@Chareva: spoken like a true Master Gardener!! Bring on the wood chips! 🙂
Unfortunately we’ve gone through most of the wood chip pile and need more.
@Chareva: spoken like a true Master Gardener!! Bring on the wood chips! 🙂