Raised bed in December

          Although I swore not to do any yard work in December, I could not stop myself when I woke up to a clear, bright, cold morning. Digging in the rain is vile—and counterproductive to soil structure—but tossing leaf mulch and weeding the fig tree on a sunny day is a different story.

            I started by turning over the soil in the two beds that had been chicken tractored already. The first, most recently occupied, bed had a layer of chicken straw and poop over the winter’s leaf mulch. It needed to be turned. The leaves, straw, spilled food, and poop will compact and turn anaerobic if left untouched all winter.  It smells nasty and nothing will grow in it come spring. But, if I give the whole bed a rough toss, mixing soil into the organic matter, it will all break down, slowly in January and February and quickly by April.  I turned the first bed and then gave the older bed, which had just a layer of leaves untouched a toss as well. All the while, the chickens were having a discussion; they wanted to dig around in the beds themselves. Before I moved on, I let them out.

      

      The second project involved prepping a bed for the coop. There were still a few top-less beets (Thank you, Bunzilla), a leek, and some parsnips hanging out in the soil. The beets and leek were harvested quickly, but the parsnips were a challenge. Several were huge, reaching down into the clay subsoil under the good garden dirt. I dig and scrambled and tugged until they came out.  Two required the pitchfork. Kayli the fluffy cat walked the fence line, calling me over to scratch behind her ears. I stopped to oblige, then gave the final bed a quick toss and went in for lunch.

      

      After lunch, I returned to clean up the hedgerow on the north side of the house. Our fig tree has been slowly growing in the strip of land between our house and the neighbor’s driveway, which is nice because it is an excellent screen in the summer. But, it also collects weed seeds and vines. I grubbed out small hazelnuts, a holly, several armloads of wild clematis, a nasty vine that was once a rose but is now a wiry green  thing with thorns, and some nightshades, filling a garbage can with rough compostables. I did NOT start to prune out the suckers, although I was tempted, because, after all, it is still December and I will not work in the yard during December.

           

           

     

Wintery Mix is Coming!

Winter is coming to the Willamette Valley. Usually, it flows in softly on a bed of clouds but, because we are so far north (equal to Calais, Maine, if you live on that side of the country), when the cloud cover goes, it is cold! For the last two days, the sky has been bright blue, brisk winds have blown, and there has been electricity in the air. Now that the clouds are coming back, we are seeing “Wintery Mix” in the forecast.

I spent Veteran’s Day snugging in plant communities. In the morning, I headed out to Sunbow Farm, figuring I would spend a few hours in the greenhouses, pulling up weeds and prepping for winter plantings. But, because of the forecast—24 degrees overnight!—Harry and Nate had bigger concerns. “Take this twine,” Nate asked, “and weave it across the entrances.” The newer greenhouses were breathing heavy, in and out, in and out with the wind, putting strain on the plastic covers. The twine could stabilize the flapping. Using orange binder twine and a small ladder, I designed a series of crossing strings that looked, from outside, like a pentagram. “Cool!” Nate called. “I love this guerilla farming stuff!” He staked down sandbags. Then we unzipped the front and back curtains in greenhouse five and replaced them. Standing on a ladder, wrestling with the greenhouse zipper in the bright breeze—it was a glorious way to spend the morning.

After lunch, I went to work in my own backyard. First, the chicken coop needed to be wrapped in plastic film for the winter. Because of the orientation of the garden beds, the coop is wide open to the westerly winter winds. I found the pieces I used last year in the shed and stapled them on. Once the Ladies were settled, I rigged a cold frame out of large tomato cages, rested on the garlic and onion beds, and covered them with more plastic. I repaired the sheet rigged over an experimental bed of Winter Peas as cover crop, then moved quickly onto the leaf project. All of the garden beds had piles of leaves dumped in the middle, but the mulch needed to be spread across each bed and snugged down around the roots of the overwintering plants. Collards, leeks, sprouting broccoli and the last of the beets   were all covered. Because I had moved so quickly, I still had time to rake up the leaves that had spilled out, tangled with day lily stems and some old amaranth that had sprouted in the aisles. It was all dumped onto the beds as well. Compost In Place, I thought.  By this time, the air was growing nippy and the sun was setting, so I went inside, glad we had already hung the wooden storm windows.

This afternoon, I watched the sky from my classroom. I could see heavy dark clouds on the horizon, but the precipitation was holding off. I fled before all of the students had cleared the building. Leaves, the beautiful red maple leaves down the street, had been raked into the road and were waiting for me to rescue them. Quickly, I gathered the rake and wheelbarrow. Rake, scoop, and dump…six barrow loads covered the front garden in a lovely glowing blanket. My last act was to bring the scented geraniums inside for the duration. I spread a small blanket for the cats on the window bench and we are ready for the cold.

Chai Tea

2 cinnamon sticks

2 chunks of candied ginger

10 crushed cardamom pods

1t whole coriander seed

.5 t peppercorns

.5 t whole cloves

4 c of water—simmer the spices for twenty minutes (cover the pan)

Add 3t of tea and 1 cup of milk. Bring to a gentle boil, then steep for about five minutes. Strain and add honey.