Dan is setting us up beautifully for a spectacular season of homegrown fruits and vegetables. Today marked the completion of plowing and disking.
This was the pig pen. Now it will be the home of potatoes, sweet potatoes, perhaps corn ( an open pollinated red flint, or "dent" corn) and/or squash and pumpkin.
And a closer view of the fertile Virgina red clay.
On the west side of the house I have a lovely little garden spot just waiting to tell me which delicacies want to be planted in its sandier brown dirt.
The same plot after Laura and I rode on the disc to give a deeper till this morning.
And in the corner of the long established garden is my new rustic asparagus bed that Big Dan made yesterday. He's filling it with dirt on top of the compost right now.
Mama Cow has every right to gloat over that glorious compost pile. She's a large producer of "black gold."
We've had trouble in the past with our animals destroying our strawberries.
*Trouble* meaning they've killed every strawberry plant we had ever planted. Ever.
So my genius husband did this.
Also, they're yummy!
Jamie is a gentle giant of a breeding boar.
Katie rudely calls him "Sausage Roll" due to his tubular shape and also, ya know, he's made of sausage.
We think he and Halvah have another family of piglets on the way in July.
I planted 18 cotton seeds. Everyone (three of you) wanted to know what I would do with my abundant cotton harvest.
Never fear; there will be no excess cotton to brush and spin.
Here's the 1 out of 18 cotton plants to sprout, circled in yellow. The rest molded.
On the bright side, surrounding the lone cotton seedling are a bunch of happy little "Virginia Select" Amish Paste tomato seedlings that will grow up to make a year's supply of ketchup and tomato sauce for us.
I've decided to post more honestly here. Not that my posts are ever dishonest, but you certainly get a one-sided view of farm life.
A mother once told me to be sure I don't post graphic or sad things because she shows the blog to her children.
But the un-fun times are real, and knowing about them is only fair.
So here's a pic to sum up the impending Arctic weather and our desperation for the sun and her warmth.
We've ("we" in this sense meaning my kids and my husband) been scrambling to get extra hay to the horses and cows and shoring up all of the animals' shelters for the predicted frigid weather.
(Be glad you get to look at unhappy Kate during chores. It was either this or a photo of the broiler chicken who died under the horse trailer.)
Here are illustrations of things that will never get done at my farm.
In the bleak darkness that is January, I always imagine grand schemes for a garden that will actually produce food that I, in turn, will actually harvest and "put up."
I'm a terrible gardener. This year I ordered a book which will make a good gardener out of me.
When, and only when, I master the contents of this book, I will allow myself to order the seed catalog!