Archive for the ‘The Country Garden’ Category
May
10
I tour around in my gardens regularly because if I don’t, I miss something. For all that was lacking in some other areas here when I arrived–neglected pastures, inadequate shelters and fencing, non-existent vegetable gardens, few fruit trees–the flower gardens lack nothing. Since I have the least focus for flower gardening, I’m grateful for them. I love and enjoy flowers. I’m just more intent on the practical. Luckily, someone before me was quite intent on flowers and did the work for me.
There is always something blooming here. Always. The gardens around the house and studio were clearly developed with a systematic plan wherein one thing blooms then the next. And the next. The progression from late winter onward has been amazing to observe. My knowledgeable neighbor Jim stopped by the other evening with his wife and we talked about the flower gardens and the previous owners. One of the previous owners, Israel, was the flower gardener amongst them. Another of the previous owners, Jack, tended the lawn. It was Jack’s sister Bobby (the psychic) who lived in the studio. Israel planted many of the roses and bulbs that are in the gardens now. (Israel was completely adorable, by the way. He was Puerto Rican. His accent charmed me instantly the first day I looked at the farm.) He was a member of one of the county garden clubs. (I’m sure he charmed them, too.) He was, as Jim related, quite eager to show off his gardens to the garden club after he’d worked on them the first year they were here. The garden club was all set to come out for a tour. The previous fall, Jim had talked to him a little about hunting. Israel had told him he was opposed to shooting any wildlife, of any kind, for any reason. Just before the garden club was scheduled to visit, deer ate down all his flowers.
The previous owners never did take up hunting, but Jim said their attitude definitely changed about deer season.
I’m not a member of a garden club (though I will be, as of today, a full-fledged master gardener), but with Casper (and Chloe, at the moment, since I’ve removed her from bothering the baby goats and their mamas) standing guard to keep deer away, here is my mid-spring tour of Israel’s lovely garden.
(I’m sure Israel tended it better, and according to Jim, Jack kept the yard mowed properly, too. I’m not doing too well in the mowing department.)
Since I took a lot of pictures, I set them up in a slideshow. Note that my “sticks” aren’t sticks anymore! I have TREES with leaves and everything, even the sugar maples, and I was worried about them the most. I made notes on the photos. If you know what anything is that I noted is a mystery, let me know.
You can hit Play to activate the slideshow, or hit Next to view at your own pace. If viewing in the slideshow, you can also hit Pause to stop the slideshow if you want to look at a particular photo longer.
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Apr
23
In the past week or so, Ross and I have planted 16 trees. I’ve never planted a tree before and neither has Ross, so we were pretty much the Keystone Cop tree planters. I ordered most of my trees from Stark Brothers. The trees came in big narrow boxes. I guess I was expecting something that looked like a tree.
They mostly looked like big sticks.
Ross said, “We’re planting sticks?”
The sugar maples came first. I planted them along the strip of grass between the two access roads. I studied the little tree planting guide that came with the trees for two hours while the trees soaked in buckets of water, realizing I didn’t have what you were supposed to have to plant trees. As in, some nice rich topsoil and peat moss, not to mention some mulch.
Oh, well, I was sure it would be okay. Only the soil there turned out to be some quite ugly clay. I went back to the house and got a bag of potting soil, which contained topsoil, peat moss, and fertilizer. I mixed that into the clay and we went ahead and planted the trees. Probably, I shouldn’t have put potting soil with fertilizer directly in the holes, so maybe I killed five sugar maples.
I told Ross he could explain to everyone in 40 years why they had no maple syrup. Or I’ll just get some more trees next year if these die. There is a one-time replacement policy, which is helpful if you’re stupid.
Before the next batch of trees arrived, I stocked up on topsoil, peat moss, and mulch.
I started soaking my sticks and studying the guide again. I was determined to become a super tree planter!
Some of the trees came in pots, and other were bare root, like the maples.
I searched the internet for more advice. I studied the guide again. I fretted over identifying the bud-union where the trees were grafted. Most of my fruit trees are dwarf or semi-dwarf varieties. If you plant the bud-union beneath the ground, your dwarf or semi-dwarf tree will forget its destiny and revert to a full-size tree.
I’m sure I make all this tree planting sound more difficult than it has to be.
Ross dug the holes for me. He dug all the holes in about 30 minutes. He’s a powerhouse with a post hole digger, shovel, and spud bar (for breaking rocks).
I meticulously mixed buckets of topsoil and peat moss. I studied the guide again. I fretted over the bud-unions. I sat on the ground, holding the “stick” in one hand, filling in topsoil with the other, tamping soil down, watering in the hole, adding more topsoil and peat moss, tamping, watering, and finally mulching, being careful to keep the mulch an inch away from the trunk and not to mulch too heavily. Or too lightly.
Then I’d move my little operation to the next hole.
Several hours later, Ross came outside to check if I was ready for the next step in which he would be involved. (Driving the t-post and cutting the fence wire.) He said, “You’re not done yet? Are you taking 45 minutes to plant each tree?!”
I’m sure that was an exaggeration!
By evening, we were on task with the t-posts and fence wire. Each tree was wrapped and secured. And re-mulched because the chickens dug up the mulch under nearly every tree.
The chickens really enjoyed the day’s activities.
We planted ten trees that day. Fig–on the south side of the house, where it will be protected from the coldest temperatures in winter. Two paw paws (because they need a pollinator) in the side yard from the studio, where they can get some shade during part of the day. On the hillside between the studio and the upper pasture, where they will get full sun and good drainage: One peach tree, one apricot tree, and two plum trees (because they need a pollinator).
The apricot tree is my favorite because it looks like a tree. It has leaves. (It came from a garden center.)
Down by the creek where the apple trees are: One mulberry tree, and two hazelnut trees.
The guide said to lop off 1/3 to 1/2 of the hazelnut trees and paint the remaining trunks (trunks? sticks?) with a white latex to protect them from the sun the first year. I had to put white latex paint on the shopping list because I didn’t have any, and I wussed out on lopping the sticks. Though when I go back to paint them, I will try to gather my courage.
My sassafras tree arrived on a later day. I have sassafras trees in the woods by the upper pasture. They’re hard to get to and you can’t see them from the house. I decided it would be fitting to plant one near the gate and the farm sign. Sort of like signing my name in ink rather than pencil on this farm.
I realized I forgot to get a pear tree. I thought I’d gotten one. If I get out to the garden center soon, before Ross the hole digger is gone, I’ll pick up a pear tree. There’s room for more in my little “orchard” on the hillside above the studio. I might try one of those cold-hardy kiwis. Will see what I find at the garden center. (Anyone tried those cold-hardy kiwis?)
Meanwhile, I walked around this weekend admiring my nicely-planted fruit and nut trees, feeling smug about my assiduous tree planting study. I feel proud managing my farm myself, making plans, carrying them out, and I am really enjoying it. I’ve got BIG plans for a garden (I’ll go over those sometime in a future post) and I want berry bushes, but I was adamant with myself about sacrificing everything else this first spring to getting trees in the ground. I’ll get my garden set up sometime this summer, and I may not plant anything in it this year but a fall crop, and it may be next spring before I plant berry bushes. I’m focused. I want trees in the ground. And I want to take on each task and do it right (er, brief lapse with the maple trees notwithstanding, which is a fine representation of my former rampant impetuosity). I had some guys out here the other day, by the way, to go over my milking parlor. SarahGrace and her little team of helpers on her farm are sure BP and Glory Bee are both bred! Like studying beekeeping a year in advance of my plan to get bees, I will have a fantastic, under-roof, lighted, ever-dry milking parlor in a stall in the barn with a strong headlock cemented in the ground, and I will have it in place months before they calve. I do not have any chicks or ducklings or goslings because I don’t have a chicken house or a brooder yet. I’m not bringing home anything I’m not ready to support.
Such patience and planning! (Who are you and what have you done with Suzanne?) Not that all my fine planning always works out. Case in point: Patriot’s escape from the field carefully secured by an experienced farmer and horse owner himself.
Anyway. Back to my admiration of my tree planting work. Then I noticed that I’d planted one of the paw paws directly under a power line. All that careful study……. LOOK UP, SUZANNE, LOOK UP!
Sigh.
We’ll be moving that one here in a few days.
I’m sure the chickens will be there.
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Apr
16
My woods aren’t rampy yet, but they shall be! I set off upon the trail that starts above the barn yard. This photo is taken looking back as I started up the trail. You can just barely see the white fencing of the barn yard.
Looking down, you can see the goat yard and beyond–the house and studio.
The first spring at Stringtown Rising, I wandered about our 40 acres with a plastic bag looking for ramps. For those of you not in the know, ramps (Alliium tricoccum) or wild leeks are the odiferous springtime treasures of Appalachia. (I do believe they are found–and can be grown–other places, but they are most well known here.) The white parts can be used in cooking similar to a strong onion or garlic, and the leafy greens are just as edible. The white bulbous end is the most stinkily delicious part, of course. Ramps can be found in patches on hillsides and near streams in shady, forested areas. The best time to find them is usually around mid-April, but based on the early appearance of out-of-the-trunk ramp sellers along roadsides, our pre-emptive warm weather pushed that date up a bit this season.
This is what ramps look like when you find them in the wild:
If you’re still not sure, dig them up and the smell will hit you right away.
There are a couple of ways to plant ramps. You can collect seeds after they bloom. (This is slightly more tedious than other methods, at least to me.) You can plant them whole, just imbedding the root in the soil, leaving the stem and leafy top above ground. (This is dead simple, though it wastes your entire ramp.) Or you can cut off the root end, reserving the remaining parts for culinary pleasure.
I like to do a little bit of both of these last two methods, because I’m really not sure which way works best. When I cut off the root ends, I do leave quite a bit of bulb, too. Probably more than necessary, but I’m into getting my ramps growing and I err on the side of caution.
Ramps are the center of springtime celebrations in West Virginia. Communities hold “ramp suppers” cooking up gigantic messes of ramps, often together with eggs and potatoes with pinto beans and cornbread on the side. This is your basic traditional ramp cooking, but ramps have gone gourmet in recent years and can be cooked up in all sorts of creative ways. If you love garlic, think “strong garlic” and go for it. The bulb, up to the white part of the stem, can be sliced, diced, mashed, etc, and added to dishes as you would garlic. Use the leafy greens as you would any greens. They can serve as the fresh greens in salads, or be diced up to add to soups and other dishes. Finely diced, the greens can be used somewhat as an herb. One of my favorite simple ways to use ramps is to dice up white parts and greens and sprinkle over pizza. Diced and mashed white parts can be used to make an easy “ramp butter” for grilled or toasted bread. The bulbs can be pickled to save for later. Ramps can also be frozen.
Most of my haul this year went into planting. This is my fifth year planting ramps. I started planting ramps the first year we lived at Stringtown Rising. I never did find any ramps that spring when I went out walking with my bag, but a neighbor took me to his farm and showed me the hillside of ramps he’d planted. I started planting my own, and planted more every year. It could feel a little defeating to start over at Sassafras Farm, after four years of establishing a ramp garden at Stringtown Rising, but hey, it just makes me a smarter ramp planter, right?
In my fifth year of planting ramps, here are my pseudo-expert tips.
Location, location, location!!! PEOPLE! Plant your ramps some place where you want to go back and get them later. Exhibit A:
Here I am on the trail above the pastures at Sassafras Farm. Note that to the left, the ground drops off steeply here and to the right, it goes up a bank. Imagine a similar bank, only steeper, at Stringtown Rising, and that is where I planted my ramp garden. It was a perfectly good location by other ramp standards, and it was close to the house (which is why I picked it), but every year, I had to clamber up the steep bank to check on my ramps. Lesson learned. If you have to, go a bit farther afield until you find a good location that does NOT include any bank-clambering. You’ll thank yourself later.
Aside from a convenient location from the human standpoint, ramps want shade amidst the hardwoods and they need rich, dark soil. A moist area is good, too. They like to live near streams, but short of a stream, near a spring will work, too.
I moved along the trail, looking for a good spot.
As the trail continues, the ground levels out on either side.
There are a number of springs all over this farm, and standing water where there should not be standing water is usually a good indication that you’re near one.
As I looked down into the woods below, it was relatively flat (or at least an easy slope) and there was something of a natural trail.
There was lovely shade and hardwoods. I set up shop.
I brought with me a bowl with a few inches of water in the bottom–enough to keep the intact ramp bulbs moist, a bag of root ends in a bag (with a damp paper towel to keep them moist also), ribbon (for marking trees where I planted the ramps), scissors (for cutting the ribbon), and a small garden shovel.
I tested the soil.
Dark and rich, with natural woodland composting. It turned over easily, soft and lovely. Not too much clay here. Perfect.
My bag of root ends:
To plant root ends, just dig a hole large enough to fit them. I like to put two or three per hole. Plant them root ends down (more or less), cover them up, and tamp the soil lightly.
For intact ramps, plant them as if you were planting starts from a garden center. Just stick them in the soil, covering up the root ends, bulbs, and white part of the stem, and tamp the soil around them. I usually will put two in a hole.
The reason I put more than one in a hole is because 1) I’m lazy (this means fewer holes), 2) in case one dies, and 3) ramps like to live together anyway.
By the way, if you get a bag of ramps and aren’t ready to plant them right away, you can preserve them for several days by placing them in a cool place. (The fridge works.) Wrap them in damp paper toweling to keep them moist until you’re ready to plant.
I chose four or five trees to plant the ramps around, testing the soil at each spot and assessing the shade. I planted several dozen ramps–some as root ends, some intact. It took about an hour. I just sat down at each spot and started digging.
The most important thing I’ve learned about planting ramps is that they’re easy to grow. I worried and fussed over my ramp garden at Stringtown Rising, but those ramps came up every April like clockwork, so there was no need to worry. (I’ll probably fret over these a little bit anyway until I see them come up next spring.) On the other hand, the best thing about fretting over your ramps is that it’s all in your head. You don’t have to do anything with your ramps after you’ve planted them. Leave them alone. Visit them in a year. When you visit them the next year, bring some friends–as in, plant more ramps.
I also learned that a ramp garden doesn’t grow and spread as quickly as I expected. After four years of planting ramps each spring at Stringtown Rising, I would not yet have started harvesting. I thought that in five years, they would spread enough to harvest. Now I suspect it probably takes closer to ten years to establish a ramp garden that spreads enough to harvest without robbing your base. Remember, however, that you can just plant root ends, which means you can have your ramps and plant them, too, so no big deal. Keep planting, and eventually you’ll have enough ramps of your own to harvest without taking away from your foundation. The only way to speed up this process is to plant more at a time. I planted probably two or three times as much this year as I planted my first year at Stringtown Rising, and will keep doing it every spring, so we’ll see. I might have enough in five years if I keep it up at this rate. You shouldn’t harvest until you have big, glorious patches where you can harvest without taking away from the base from which next year’s patches will grow.
When I was finished planting, I tied ribbons on all the trees where I planted ramps.
I also tied ribbon on the two trees to either side of the path down to my new ramp garden.
I’ll come up with a more permanent way to mark the ramps later, but for the time being, that will do. I didn’t mark my ramp garden at Stringtown Rising quite so well. I knew generally where they were, but once I clambered up the bank, I had to wander around to find which trees they were planted around, which was an added annoyance on top of the clambering.
The ramp sellers are still out there. Go get some ramps! They’re easy to grow, I promise.
P.S. No, I did not dig up any ramps from Stringtown Rising. I left them for posterity. My legacy. My place in the history books. I’m like Johnny Appleseed, only I’m spreading ramps across Roane County (which is not a highly rampy county for WV) instead of apple trees across the land. I’m….Suzanney Ramproot! That’s it! Yes! I’m like…. A West Virginia LEGEND!
Signed (with stinky fingers),
the one
the only
Suzanney Ramproot
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Apr
4
I took copious notes as I went around the house and studio with the previous owners this past weekend. I wanted to know what everything was! And I knew I’d never remember, so I wrote it all down.
Here are a few highlights.
I have a lilac! And it’s blooming!
This is a hydrangea. I should have pruned it in the fall, but it will have to manage. I’m not sure I should cut that back now. I’ll take care of it properly this fall.
I’ve been wondering about what is to either side of the steps to the front door. Those are laurels.
This is a cherry here to the side of the front porch. (And you can’t really see it beyond the cherry tree in this photo, but the other tree in the front yard is a mimosa.)
There are two apples trees along the creek. (There are another two apple trees way back in the second upper pasture, but I’m thinking those are deer apples, due to location.)
It was a good time to nail down what I’ve got because I want to get some more trees planted this spring. I’ve ordered plum, peach, apricot, fig, mulberry, paw paw, hazelnut, and sugar maples. (And yes, in the case of those that need pollinators, I’ve ordered more than one of different varieties.) I will be adding some berry bushes also, but I’m not quite ready for them yet.
I’m going to plant the sugar maples along the strip between the two access roads. Good thing sugar maples are so gorgeous in the fall, because that will be it for me. It takes approximately 40 years for a maple tree to grow big enough to tap. I’ll have them put “I hope you like the maple syrup!” on my tombstone!
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Mar
7
Now that it’s March, and spring, while yet a dream, peeks out from the horizon, I’ve been inspecting the beds around the house and studio, trying to talk myself into cleaning them out to prepare for the growing season. On the side of the studio between the driveway and the studio, there is something of a knoll.
I don’t know why, but until yesterday, it hadn’t hit me that there’s grass up there. GRASS. How are you supposed to mow that? Grass just seems like such a bad idea there. Seems like a better place for some low maintenance ground cover, but there’s all the grass in the way, so that doesn’t sound like an easy solution.
There’s a stump in there, so there used to be a tree, and there are some rocks scattered around, possibly scattered from age and neglect. It looks as if some of them were originally set up to be a little path/steps. There’s a rock-bordered bed at the base of the knoll where the previous owners grew pepper, tomatoes, and herbs. There’s actually still a rosemary plant in there that has dried over the winter, and there are several dead branchy pepper plants. Unless the chickens are completely locked up, I won’t have much luck growing anything in it.
There are a few flowers randomly tossed about on the knoll, and hark, there are even blooms!
At the far end of the knoll near the deck steps, there is a large viney rose bush.
All together, this area looks like a big challenge.
So let’s forget about it for a minute and look around at the other side of the studio! After all, I don’t even have a lawnmower!
Here around the other side, things look a little more manageable.
Except….wait…..that’s grass in there, too!
What is that about?!
I do, however, like the line of daffodils along the path.
There are also several rose bushes in here and two small trees.
And a slight mess left behind by running the public water line to the studio.
Coming around to the front of the cellar, which faces the back of the house, there’s some ivy that needs a haircut.
The beds around the front of the house really are more manageable. No grass! There are two short, matching trees (?) or bushes or something on either side of the front steps.
Whatever they are, they appear to have been pruned in the fall. There are also several more rose bushes in these gardens, along with some stalky dead annual plants.
I can spiff these beds up for spring pretty easily. Pull out the dead annuals, put down some new mulch, and scatter in some fresh annuals. Hang some baskets from the porch, and I’ll be good to go up front!
But back around the studio–ack. I’m unhappy with those inconvenient grassy patches–seems to me that is always going to look bad and be a hassle on upkeep–and it’s an area visitors will see the most. Suggestions are welcome! Got a weird spot like this? What do you do with it?
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Sep
22
The goat yard has been dug out!
The build-up from the year’s accumulation of hay and poop and sheep and a giant calf that stood over six inches at the fence line here is now gone.
This eliminates the drainage problem created by all the build-up. However, the job is not done.
The next step is supposed to be grading and smoothing all this out and growing some new grass for the goats, but it’s been raining. A good bit of the mess did make it to a pile in the garden, though.
I think this means we can now call this garden done for the year.
It was a good garden. It always came to work on time, wasn’t too wet or too dry, and produced a lot of tomatoes, cucumbers, and eggplant.
It didn’t account for much else, but it was a cheerful worker.
Garden 2011 stands now in a state of ruin.
Admirers mourn and yet–
–look forward to the future!
There’s always next year. One late winter day, the seed catalogs will start arriving. The snow will melt. Tiny pots will fill with seedlings. The hay and poop will be spread to nourish a new dream! It will be the best garden ever!
“See you next year, Garden.”
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Aug
10
Remember my beautiful new herb garden with a gate?
A few months later, I’m happy to report that my basil, oregano, chives, rosemary, and sage are doing tremendous! The weeds are also flourishing! The parsley is languishing, and the dill is dead. However! It’s mostly doing well! ESPECIALLY the weeds! In fact, the weeds are doing so well, I can’t even find the herbs!
You’re welcome. This public service photograph is here to make you feel better about your own herb garden. As is this one:
And this one!
Ahoy! We are a-sail on a ship of weeds! We float upon a river of invasive pestilence! We chart a course to wreck upon the rocks of negligence!
We shall write poetry, songs, and sonnets to the weeds. Mostly, because that’s easier than pulling them.
Sigh. Okay. Staff? STAFF?!
I always have to do everything myself.
Ta da.
How’s your herb garden doing?
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Jun
25
It’s me against the birds. Every once in a while, I find a ripe raspberry that’s been half-eaten and I know they’ve been there, but most of the time I pull off the plump, juicy berries first. I go out collecting every day. It’s become a little daily ritual, my walk around the farm to all my spots. While I’m walking, I look for new spots–and sometimes I find them! I’ve found more raspberry patches than I ever imagined the day I found what I thought was just one patch by the driveway. I found more along the driveway, then I found them up by the house, below the driveway, and across the road.
I’ve gotten better at finding them along the sunny edges of the woods, and also better at identifying the new canes shooting up first-year growth. I know where more raspberries will be next year.
The raspberry-palooza is stunning. I’m obsessed with the raspberries! And where I find raspberries, I often find blackberries, too. But now, it’s raspberry time and they are going to peak soon. There are still many raspberries not yet ready, but I think they will be mostly done in another week or so.
Just in time for blackberry season. The blackberries are starting to show a hint of color. They will be ripening next month.
I’m actually starting to think I will collect enough raspberries for a straight raspberry jam. I have four cups now. I figured up a per-cup berry jam recipe so I can make jam with however many raspberries and blackberries I get. See it here: Berry Jam (By the Cup).
I’m getting bolder as my obsession grows. I collect raspberries high. I collect raspberries low. No ripe berry is left behind. I leap to raspberries along cliffs.
I clamber up banks and climb into underbrush and through trees.
You have to get down in there because sometimes the berries are hiding.
I hear the phone ringing back at the house and I don’t care. I’m collecting raspberries.
One of my favorite new patches is a huge sprawling patch of both raspberries and blackberries below the driveway, between the driveway and the sheep pasture (Frank’s field). There’s about a six-foot steep bank dropping off from the driveway down to a run that drains into our creek. On the other side of the run, the ground slopes down to the fence and the field beyond. I walk along the fence, reaching across the ditch to the berries growing along the steep bank.
The sheep will think it’s funny if I fall in. Or not notice, because sheep don’t care much about people. Unless you are carrying a feed bucket.
Someone asked on a previous post if these might be wineberries. Wineberries can be distinguished from raspberries by the reddish hairs on wineberry canes. These are old-fashioned wild black raspberries that are growing on our farm. I haven’t seen any wineberries here. We’ve discovered a few more raspberry patches along the road to our farm (and haven’t looked too hard there, so there are probably more), but these patches I’m finding on our farm were likely pre-existing and disrupted by the construction a few years ago–or carried down the road here by the birds.
The flora is exploding on our farm this year. Before the disruption of our construction three years ago, there had been a previous disruption by loggers when this farm was selectively timbered a few years before we bought it. Our driveway was built by the loggers, and the location of our house was a large cleared area used as a staging ground by the loggers who actually spread and graded, widening the area, which provided space for our garden and goat yard in front of our house. (If all this sounds confusing, remember that I have a Farm Map.) The wide cleared swaths out past the duck ‘n’ buck yard and out through BP-land were logging roads.
Because of the loggers, the hillside behind our house was also disrupted quite a bit before we got here and added to the general disruption. I’ve been planting ramps back there for the past three years and I am suddenly realizing this year that I have no idea how I’ll even find my ramps next year. The forest is bursting in West Virginia verdant abundance. I am perhaps trading ramps for raspberries. Next year, I’ll start planting ramps more mindful of the oncoming near-tropical explosion.
When I get all the way down the driveway in my raspberry collecting each day, I look up the driveway and barely recognize the entrance to our farm because of the growth.
Things are starting to look not only settled but well-established. My daily walks amongst the berries are a chance to notice, and to enjoy.
I walk along the precarious path between the bank below the driveway and the sheep pasture, reaching-reaching-reaching for my little treasures, and I think, I’m picking wild raspberries on my farm!
And I don’t even know which part of that last sentence is the most awesome.
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