Ariel and her husband, Jeff, run a sustainable farm in Sonoma County. Manned solely by a crew of two, Jeff and Ariel grow their crops with care and attention. The result of their labor is produce and poultry of the highest quality. Visit our website at www.redwoodempirefarm.com for more farm info!
I used to dislike Sundays. Instead of getting the Mondays, I'd get the Sundays. Regardless of what I was doing, whether it be fun or not, I had the nagging reminder that the next day is Monday and the week and all the daily grinds to come. But now, I like Sundays. I also like Mondays. And Tuesdays, Wednesday, Thursdays,Fridays, AND Saturdays. Each day is full of possibility, routine, adventure, and work.
This evening, I was walking through the farm and I noticed how many of the fruit trees have started to blossom. The almond is blossoming and many of the plums are covered with flowers, too. As I got close to one of the trees, I noticed how amazing the flowers smell. And the flowers from each tree smell a little bit different, even flowers from different trees of the same variety. For me, the blossoming fruit trees are the first signal of spring - the first glimpse and whiff of the sweetness that is on its way in the coming months. I know I can't wait for the first peach of the year...oh man, will it be good.
This time of year, I spend a lot of time in the greenhouse starting seeds. Jeff and I have a convenient interpretation of division of labor. I let him do manly things like weedwack and tractor drive, and I do those things that require attention to detail and a special, feminine, nurturing touch. (Jeff just read that over my shoulder and claims to be able to germinate seeds as well as me, but it's simply not true. There's a reason I'm called "The Germinator" and he's the tractor driving professional.) We grow all of our plants from seed because it's simply too expensive to buy all the plants we would need to plant the whole farm - not to mention that I can grow healthier plants than we could buy pretty much anywhere. The first step in the process of starting plants from seed is purchasing the seed. Jeff and I spend a couple of months poring through seed catalogs, debating what varieties to grow, and placing our orders. We order most of our seed from Johnny's Selected Seeds, Territorial Seed Company, and Botanical Interests, Inc. Jeff learned years ago that you shouldn't cut corners where seed is concerned. You may need to pay a little more for quality, certified organic seed, but the germination and crop quality will be better in the long run.
The next step in the process is to plant the seeds! We start all of our our seeds in the greenhouse where they will be protected from the cold elements and can have a nice, uniform environment in which to germinate and start their lives. During the warmer months, seeds will germinate outside, but not so well during the winter.
I start by laying out my clean plastic six-packs and filling them with potting soil (you'll have to email me if you want me to give away what potting soil we use). I pack the soil down so that it is dense enough that when I water the soil in, it doesn't turn to mud, but instead stays pretty solid.
We use square nursery flats to hold the six-packs. Here are the six-packs before they get soil.
I add enough soil so that each cell is full of soil to the top.
After I've spread the soil into my six-packs, I use my water wand to moisten the soil. They shouldn't be sopping, just wet enough to be thouroughly moistened.
Next, I take my dibbler (hole poking device), which for me is an old jumbo nail that I found somewhere on the farm, and make either one or two small holes/indentations in each cell of soil . The number of holes depends on the plant. If they're going to grow pretty big before transplanting, then I do one hole, but if they're going to stay small, like lettuce, for example, then I poke two. Each hole should be about 1/4 inch deep, but that's not a hard and fast rule. You certainly don't need to take out a miniature ruler and measure you're depth to make sure it's just so.
This time, I made one hole in the center of each cell.
My high-tech hole poking device.
So now that you have all you're nice, tidy holes ready, drop a seed into each hole. I have a couple of different tools that I use for this, but my favorite and the one I think works the best is a pair of tweezers. If I'm starting salad mix or arugula, I do a sprinkle of seeds per hole. If it's something else that has itty-bitty seeds, I do my best to drop only one seed per hole, but I also accept that if more than one drop, I can thin later. During this stage, I do use my discretion about which seeds are planted and which are not. For instance, in any given packet of tomato seeds, there will be a few seeds that look funky. They would probably grow just fine, but I usually opt not to plant them and instead only plant the best looking seeds. This act of unnatural selection is something I learned from Luther Burbank. He firmly believed that the first step in growing exceptional plants is observation during seeding. If you want to end up with the best plants, you must begin with the best seed.
Once the seeds are deposited in their holes, I use my finger to cover the seeds gently.
Then the six-packs are covered with remay cloth and watered in. While they're germinating, the soil in the six-packs should stay moist and relatively warm.
This is the remay cloth that we always talk about. It is great for pretty much any farm use, from seeding to frost protection.
I have to be honest - like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie. Once I have seeded the seeds, Jeff usually takes over and babysits the greenhouse until the plants are big and strong enough to go outside. After all, his horticultural (greenhouse production) degree trumps my political science degree when it comes to stuff like that. I still think I'm better than him though. Maybe it's my way of coping with the rather tedious work of seeding, but I like to imagine that my intuition and intention goes a long way towards the ultimate health and vigor of the plants.
So there you have it. My method, if you will. Okay, I'll be fair. Jeff's method as taught to me and then interpreted by me. There are many other ways of starting plants by which people swear, but this is the one that works for us. There's science to it, but not rocket science. Ultimately, seeds want to grow - it's what they are programmed to do and all we humans need to do is facilitate their natural function and make the environment suitable.
My body is so tired. My arm muscles, my back muscles, my leg muscles, my neck muscles...okay...all my muscles are just plain tired. I'm not complaining, though. I actually really enjoy this overall fatigue. When I feel this way, I know I've worked hard and will have plenty of fruits (pun intended) to show for my labor.
The weather people have been predicting rain for the past few days, but it looks like we will actually get some real rain tomorrow. Rain is awesome, but in order for it not to set us back too much, we had a lot to accomplish before the storm comes. Jeff's growing "system" requires the use of plastic mulch on top of our planting beds. The plastic, which comes in a very heavy roll of a few thousand feet, warms the soil, prevents weeds from germinating (thereby dramatically reducing the amount of weeding I have to do...yes!), and protects the plants from lots of pests and elemental dangers. Plastic mulch comes in a bunch of different colors that have different purposes for different crops. For example, we use red plastic for tomatoes because the red plastic bounces a certain kind of light back at the plants, which stimulates the hormone in the tomato plants that govern how much fruit is set. Green plastic does double duty warming the soil, making it perfect for any spring crops and great for those summer veggies that need extra heat. The one downside of the plastic is that it is not recyclable or reusable, but its benefits are so great and it allows us to produce such a high yield of crops using little water and with limited labor that, for now, it is our one necessary evil. Another great thing about the plastic is that once the plastic is laid, it can rain as much as the sky wants and we can plant immediately after. Without plastic, we would have to wait for the soil to dry and become workable, which could set us back significantly.
So, that leads me to today's activities. Our task was to get as many beds made and covered with plastic as we could so that we can continue our planting of the spring crops immediately after the rain. We spread a lot of compost and did a lot of shoveling - and let me tell you, shoveling heavy, wet dirt is not an easy task - but, by the end of the day, we had our beds made. And I am left with delicious fatigue. I will sleep well tonight, I guarantee.
This is a picture of some of the beds that we made. I think the plastic on the beds makes them look like long Slip 'N Slides. I'm always a little tempted to make a run for it and see how far I could slide.
The other day I was taking apart bulbs of last year's garlic so that I could plant them for this year. I was working at a table near the chicken coops and this one chicken, Priscilla, kept hopping up right next to me and clucking animatedly. She kept coming back and doing her little dance, to which all the other chickens would respond in turn. I thought that Priscilla was just a really smart, personable chicken and I was feeling quite nice about my affinity with farm animals and farming in general.
Today I happened to walk by the table where I had been working and, lo and behold, there was Priscilla nesting in the box that I had been using. Apparently I had stolen her makeshift nesting box to use as the box for my leftover garlic and that is why she was so talkative. No, she wasn't simply drawn to my amazing Dr. Doolittle qualities and wanting to be my friend. I had stolen her box and she needed to get in there fast and drop that egg! I had a good laugh about that one. Here is a photo of Priscilla and one of her nesting box.
Our eggs are so free-range, they're laid in sustainably farmed dried garlic under a canopy of Eucalyptus trees.
Nothing beats waking up to blue sky and the promise of a warm day in the middle of winter. I'm pretty sure that weather like this is a purely Northern Californian phenomenon - no place else do we toe the line between cold and warm, rainy and dry, winter and spring. The farm is stunningly pretty on days like yesterday (and today). The sun works to warm the still moist ground so effectively that you can smell the dirt warming and changing. All the grass and cover crop captures the sunlight and glows emerald green. Even the living creatures on the farm (including us) move around with a little extra pep in their step. Weather like this is undoubtedly why Luther Burbank felt like he'd arrived in heaven when he stepped off the train from his native Massachusetts. Within a year of arriving in Santa Rosa, Burbank wrote home saying, "This is the chosen spot of all the earth as far as Nature is concerned." I've been a lot of places and I have to agree with him; we are truly blessed in the nature department.
Great weather in February comes with its own set of responsibilities. Success as a farmer depends enormously on timing. Luther Burbank, who started his horticultural career as a market gardener/farmer, said that to make a living as a farmer you had to be the earliest to harvest. How true! In order to be the earliest to harvest, you have to be ready to take advantage of good weather and get into the ground whenever you can during the winter and early spring. To that end, I have been seeding plants since Winter solstice so that we would have plants ready to go into the ground. Jeff has been mapping the farm and figuring out the first areas to work. Such good preparation leaves us free to do the work when weather permits.
Yesterday was day 1 of farmer boot camp for the year. I tore out a bunch of spent crops in order to clear some areas for new planting. Everything I tore out was fed to the egg laying chickens (man, did they get hopped up on worms and bugs), which meant that I had to push a wheelbarrow extremely full of plants and dirt through 6 inches of mud many, many times. Wheelbarrowing up a hill through mud makes me feel like modern Sisyphus - no matter how hard I push or how much momentum I try to capture, I don't make it to the top any faster. The ground is still pretty wet from the rain, so walking around feels like walking on the sand on a beach that is wet and hard, but starts to give way when stepped on. It's a heck of a workout. In addition to tearing out old stuff, I also planted the first sugar snap peas. Yea! I always love planting the first sugar snaps because they will be the first food of the year that I can eat right off the plant. Don't worry though. We planted enough so that no matter how many I eat, there will be plenty left for the rest of you.
The meat chicks are a week old today and they're doing great. Jeff will start feeding them real food (grass and bits of dirt and other goodies) today, which signals the beginning of their real growth. Only 7 more weeks until they're dinner.
Happy Valentine's Day to everyone! In the purest, most sincere way, I love anyone out there who is nice enough to read my ramblings (and hopefully do what I tell you). In all honesty, I actually do really, really like all the individuals who support Jeff and my farming. Because of your values and your decision to live the right way no matter how inconvenient it may be at times, I get to do what I love to do with the person(s) who I love to be with most. So for that, thank you.
Also in the Valentine's spirit, I want to speak my appreciation for the people and businesses who have been so kind and supportive of the farm:
Jeff's Great Aunt Mary - She has given Jeff a place to play with plants from the time he was a kid. She helped teach him the value of hard work and modeled a life lived outdoors in the company of beautiful plants.
Jeff and my parents - I don't think I can actually find words that would adequately convey how much I love and appreciate our families. Because of my family, I have never known what it is to be unloved or feel lost. I have blazed my own trail, sometimes gracefully and often awkwardly, but they have always "had my back." My parents have supported my rustic aspirations as if they were their own. After all, they were the original back-to-the-landers, two of the first hippy-yuppies who believed that land is freedom and freedom is bliss. Jeff's folks are incredible, too. Without Jeff's Mom, there would be no Jeff and there certainly would be no farm. Jeff and his Mom started the farm together - it was her vision as much as his. And last but not least, Jeff's Dad. Whenever we're in a pickle, we know he'll come through for us. We asked for a movable chicken pen and he gave us the Fort Knox of chicken tractors. We asked for some help slaughtering chickens and he was there waiting for us in the dark at 4:00am, ready to go. I asked for a sandwich board sign for our road-side stand, and I got a 6x4 foot person sized sign with built in mechanisms to keep it from toppling. He's loyal and chipper and really fun.
Susan and Tim of Centro Espresso - First and foremost, they serve the best espresso in Sonoma County. Moreover, they made our road-side stand an immediate success by telling their customers and friends about us. Susan's endorsement is a very valuable thing, let me tell you.
Our early chicken customers - There's a group of people our there who bought the first chickens we raised two years ago. They took a chance and paid good money for chickens for which there was no guarantee that they would even be edible. As it turns out, the chickens were awesome. But I'm still grateful to the people who helped us learn and grow and try something new.
Our Dougs - Everyone needs a Doug. They're simply the best.
Good news everyone! Our first meat chicks arrived today! As we speak, they are healthy and peeping away in their brooder. We order our chicks directly from a hatchery in Fresno. They are shipped out immediately after hatching and arrive at our local post office the next day. We got a call first thing this morning from the post office and went to pick them up, which is always fun because people give us some interesting looks when we announce that we're there to pick up our chicks and the postal service worker goes to the back and returns with a vigorously peeping box. The baby chicks, or Little Peepers as I like to call them, will hang out in a nice, warm brooder for the next few weeks until they're big enough to go out in their movable pen. Don't worry, they always eat 100% organic/non-GMO food and we're giving them bits of grass, scraps, and bugs as soon as they're old enough. These chicks will live quite a ritzy chicken life while they become delicious chicken dinners over the next 8 weeks.
We ordered these chicks earlier in the year than we have in the past, so we will doubtlessly have to take extra measures to keep them warm, dry, and healthy. I think we're going to do just fine though. Jeff is a wonderful caretaker and spends a lot of time checking on them. He's probably already figured out who's who and named half of them. You've gotta love that guy...I know I do.
I'd like to share a couple paragraphs of a well-written essay that I found on the Westin A. Price Foundation website (wwww.westinaprice.org). The essay is titled, "Agribusiness and the Fall of Rome," and it was written by John Moody.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "When we encourage people to buy local and regional real foods and grass based animal products raised by real people who receive just wages in exchange for their work and stewardship of the land, we are not only encouraging them to protect and contribute to their own health and the vibrant health of their children, we are encouraging them to protect and contribute to the health of our nation and the health of the entire world. We are asking them to take tangible, sustainable steps to reduce poverty, pollution, economic injustice and world hunger. We are asking them to help heal some of the sickness of our society. We don’t need a dictator to undo the damaging effects of agribusiness in our nation and world. We do need tens of thousands of average citizens like the Gracchi, citizens willing to make sacrifices for the sake of our nation’s small farmers and others.
Personal, family, community and national health start with our decision to buy local and put nutrient-dense real food on our dinner plates. Let each of us choose wisely and encourage others to do the same."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I recommend that anyone with a few free minutes read the entirety of this essay (http://www.westonaprice.org/Agribusiness-and-the-Fall-of-Rome.html). As a society, we can't really afford to continue on our current path. The consequences are greater than a depressed economy and high unemployment. I'm not usually prone to apocalyptic worries, but I really do feel that we have become far too detached from the real things in life and I worry what the end result will be if we keep acting with instant gratification in mind. I know I'm preaching to the choir and that my audience is already moving in the right direction by supporting local, small(er) scale agriculture. So thank you for all that you already do. Keep up the good work, because you are leading by example.
Today was another crazy day in Rincon Valley. Even though I really like the rain, I felt relieved and happy to wake up this morning to a beautiful sunny day. I loved the sun, but I think I needed to feel the warmth more than anything. After a great run in a muddy Annadel, I did a nice, healthy stint of manual labor. The recent rains helped a frighteningly vigorous bloom of weeds in the onions, so I set out to fight back in favor of the alliums. So there I was, hoeing away on the side of the road. I could hear and see a rowdy Fijian party across the street. I could hear kids playing in the neighborhood below us and a couple other Superbowl parties somewhere nearby. I heard a siren and a police officer went roaring by. Then I saw something in my peripheral vision and I looked up, expecting to see one of the cats that hang around. But what to my delight did I look up to find? A big 'ol red fox, that's what! He or she went trotting through the farm about thirty feet away from where I was working. How cool is that? Only in Rincon Valley do we get multicultural American sports holiday celebrations AND rare wild animals!
Those of you are already familiar with our farm have probably heard all about "The Girls." Our two Nubian goats, Shoshanna and Isabella, were Jeff's gift to me on my birthday this past June. I have what I consider to be a very healthy appreciation for the goats. I like them, I think they're cute, funny, and I definitely think they add an authenticity to our farm that only farm animals can. But when the goats are yelling in the middle of the night or when they start eating the crops, I see them for what they are - goats.
Jeff, however, is a very proud Papa. Since the day he got them, he's been over the moon for his girls. The goats' first night at the farm was undoubtedly unnerving for them and they, like most babies, expressed their fear by making A LOT of noise ALL NIGHT LONG. Jeff decided that it would be best for us to sleep in their barn with them...on the floor. Despite our presence, the goats still cried. Jeff's patience was unfailing until they went to the bathroom...on him. I think he started understanding the limited intelligence that accompanies that sweet and goofy demeanor of goats. Since then, we've developed wonderful relationships with the goats. They are treated like princesses. They play, eat, jump, and have the run of the place.
Today, however, they had to get their hooves trimmed - a necessary, but rather awkward exercise. First, we bribed them with grain laden with molasses and other goodies. Then we tried to get them to calmly stand still so that Jeff could trim their hooves. But despite my petting and coaxing and Jeff's gentle touch, the goats did not want to be messed with. I don't think I can describe how strong a full grown goat is. When a goat wants to move, it moves - even if there's a full sized human trying to hold her. In the end, I used my weight to bear hug the goats into submission and Jeff laid on the barn floor trying to get an angle from which he could work.
Even though the goats acted like we were trying to kill them, once we were done, they were happy and seemed to have forgotten the whole ordeal. Goats are clearly masters of forgetting and forgiving. And therein lies the moral of today's story: no matter what uncomfortable ordeals we must face, once we make it through them, make like a goat and just forget it ever happened.
Nope, you're eyes don't deceive you...I really am posting two days in a row. I'm trying to write a bit each day so that everyone out there in reader land can understand what we do as modern day urban farmers.
So, on to the days happenings. This winter, I've been determined to be more organized and on top of things. Deciding to be more administratively thoughtful when in the midst of picking 8 hours a day and then planting and selling to boot doesn't work well at all. This winter has been my time to get stuff straight - we have calendars, files, post its, envelopes, and fliers everywhere.
Also on my list was to finally build a website. This blog was a start, but we really need a website to make our business more efficient and visible. So, I put on my computer pro hat and built us a website! It's nothing fancy, mind you, but it gets the job done for now. It will undoubtedly grow as the season progresses, so look for amazing things to come. The address is www.redwoodempirefarm.com. Catchy, right? Well, today I worked out some website kinks and put it up in its most complete form yet.
The other item on my agenda was to order myself a new hoe. This time of year it is a constant battle to protect the onions and garlic that are growing from the weeds. I've been using an ancient hula hoe, but it's heavy, unwieldy, and I find it to be incredibly awkward to handle. So, I bought myself a fancy little hand hoe doodad that they claim is like an "extension of your own finger nail." That sounds like a good deal to me! Because right now, I'm so dissatisfied with my hoeing performance that I usually end up using my real fingernails to dig the weeds out of the dirt.
Almond Blossoms!
