Red Skies At Night….. The Country Is On Fire

Aaron and I were driving to the farm yesterday and I asked, “Is it foggy out here?”  I thought my sunglasses were dirty.  Aaron answered, “Yes it is very hazy”.  It turns out that once again our skies are foggy because the country is burning down.  Colorado and the north west are burning in a manner that is almost incomprehensible.  Fire fighters being brought in from other countries because, in essence, we are tapped out.  For the first time, they are looking for volunteers.  If you think climate change is a hoax and you are dumb enough to listen to the bought and paid for politicians that try to convince you it is not an established fact you are one of the dumbest individuals that has ever donned a human suit.  We are truly screwed and it is a very short time until we see most of our species, and the rest of them for that matter, die.  I don’t farm because I think I can do anything about it now.  I farm because it feels right.  That would be my suggestion:  sit down, close your eyes, and ask yourself…. what do you want while you have the time to choose.  I can no longer act like it isn’t happening when I have known for decades that it is.  Peace.  Please. Peace.

Blood Red Sun, Pink Skies.  From hundreds of fires.  We really screwed up this place.

Fire sun 2015

Burning Out

I sat musing today after once again wielding power tools, building something that should have been simple but wasn’t, how hard it is to get off the ground anymore.  Prior to this place, I built out the landscaping and urban farm in the city.  Thousands of pounds of rock, lumber and topsoil was moved.  Of course I was ten years younger then and it didn’t feel nearly as painful.  I also recovered a lot faster.  2 and 1/3 years have passed since we bought JAZ Farm.  It was a total mess and I remember sitting on the front porch wondering if I had the physical stamina to actually make this place into what it has become.  I will likely take on the project to install the rainwater harvesting tanks but other than that, when this greenhouse is built, I HAVE to stop with all this heavy shit.  The question of the day isn’t, “are you sore from all the work?” which of course the answer is yes, but rather, “are you NOT in pain today?”  The answer is invariably NO!!

This is what it has taken to build the temple.  My hips are dust, my knees ache constantly and my right shoulder is beat senseless from hauling everything from chicken feed, to fence posts, to bags of concrete.  Every weekend for over 2 years! I haven’t shot my bow in years and my telescope is calling my name.

What keeps me going is the vision of being able to wake up and make breakfast with eggs from our hens, onions, peppers and potatoes from our garden, brew my morning coffee and wander out and walk through the greenhouse, sitting for awhile enjoying the green around me.  I’d eventually move on, taking some time to sit and watch the chickens before doing some weeding in the outdoor garden.  I long to be able to get out my telescope and look forward to a night of observing rather than wondering if I can even stay awake until sunset and then giving it all up before I even get started.  In short, I want to be done with the construction and simply be here with our homestead – our temple to right living and all that being self-sustaining can mean in this day and age.

Sure there will always be projects or repairs needing to be done but they can be hired out, or done over longer periods of time than the whirlwind we have undertaken since December of 2012.  We are so proud of this place and everything it has become and what it represents but I am burned out.  I don’t WANT to learn a new construction skill.  I don’t WANT to have to read up on every disease a pig can get or how to tension a fence, or fight with suppliers of greenhouses, top soil, seed drillers, and all contractors that say they will do something and not show.  I want to wake up and think, I’m going to go walk around Eden.  After I do that…. who knows.   The day is coming soon.  2 more months of hard work and then the rest will become more normal.  Solar panels to go off grid – somebody else.  Install a wood stove – somebody else.  Hook up rainwater harvesting cisterns – yours truly.  Replace the shower kits – after having replaced the toilets and sinks myself – somebody else.  Its time to let JAZ Farm produce what it was designed to produce – peace, produce, pigs and poultry.  Amen

Squash and Such 2014 IMG_3584 IMG_3742 IMG_3744 photo-3 Ash tree 2014  IMG_3568 IMG_3556 IMG_3552

A Great Quote

From:  The Joy of Hobby Farming, Grow Food, Raise Animals, and Enjoy A Sustainable Life, by Michael and Audrey Levatino

“Quality of Life:

The most important element of all is your happiness.  Why live and work on a farm if you’re not loving almost every minute of it?  Weigh all new farm venture ideas against how it will affect your life and relationships.  Take the time to enjoy what’s been created for you and what you’ve accomplished yourself.”

Good advice no matter what you want to accomplish in life.

A Little Midwest Pragmatism

This article was posted by a friend on Facebook.  She and her friend have been members of the sustainable living and environmental movement in a significant way far longer than I have had the privilege.  I think this article helps to shed some light on what is -and may not be – important to the notion of localizing our food system.  Once a movement gets momentum there is always a fringe (and this case more than a fringe, especially in the city) that take a minutia of the movement and blow it up into monumental significance.  In this case, the micro-managing and obsession of cooking.  You know of which I speak.  When I was in high school my family was one of the first around to take up long distance bicycle touring.  We had decent bikes and we wore those old white helmets that looked like half an eggshell.  But we did it in T-shirts, shorts, and tennis shoes.  Now 30 some years later, everyone thinks they need to shave their legs and look like a competitor in the Tour de France simply to go on a nice bike ride.  This has now happened in cooking.  While having good equipment is nice and having a gathering of friends over wine and a nice meal contains a soothing animal warmth, the hipster movement has made cooking the Tour de France of food.  While yes cooking is important, the movement now has a plethora of those who are still out of touch with how their food is produced and the simple pleasures of eating foods that comfort like grandma used to cook.  A loose quote from the article is that if you cooked like your grandmother you would likely never open a cookbook.  Having to open a cookbook is indicative of how much of our roots, traditions and simple self-sustaining skills we have lost.  I would suggest that instead of learning how to cook Thai cuisine or attempting to become the next Julia Child, go to the farmers market, buy some great produce, and cook yourself up a good old fashioned hearty stew.  You will glow with satisfaction and you will have the basis of a recipe that you can build on and change and let evolve, that doesn’t require you to wear a stupid white hat and apron.

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/11/03/shut-eat

Can You Do This? End of Chapter One Of The Building And Working Of A Small Homestead On The High Plains Of Colorado.

I was just thinking that as of this past weekend we have reached the end of the beginning.  The blog has shown the refurbishing of the property when it was first purchased, the build out of the farm infrastructure, the thoughts, philosophies and personal journies that took us here, the planting from seed to ground, the storms, the growing, the chickens, the harvest, and then the ultimate culmination of the labor by showing it on our plate (having been grown 100% here on the farm).  The question that came to mind is:  “Can You Do This?”

We are far from done with the place but as a friend said, “each year it should get easier now that the infrastructure has been built”.  However, some of this was, of course, to see if we could do it, but also to hopefully inspire others to do it as well.  Do you need to live in the suburbs or the city?  If you do, could you afford a plot of land to go to on the weekends to work it?  Could you establish a community garden or farm your yard?  Could you find an organic farm to volunteer for and support through a CSA?  If you are able to, or if you watched as we went above and beyond the call here and thought how wonderful it would be to do something like that…. why don’t you?

So much of life anymore lacks meaning and purpose.  We sell our souls to do a job we hate for some amorphous time in the future when we hopefully can quit doing it.  The ridicule of the president when they misquoted him in the press saying, “you didn’t build this” was embarrassing.  He was, after all, dead on correct!  You didn’t.  You may have worked hard to build a business or move up the ranks in a job, or whatever small piece of the machine you were a part of, but you didn’t build it all.  If you think you did, go out into a field somewhere with nothing, not even tools or a pen, and give it a shot.  You didn’t build it.  For you Mad Max fans:  “Master Blaster Runs Barter Town!”

I had a sociology professor once in college who went on a rant about that very issue and it has stuck with me ever since.  He said to the effect: “If you think you are self-made and that you don’t depend on society, then strip naked and off to the woods with you!  You probably didn’t buy, let alone make your clothes (remember he is talking to college students) – some person being paid slave wages probably did.  You probably didn’t pay your own tuition.  You didn’t invent the car or bike that got you here and you didn’t pave the roads or make the electricity or mine the minerals, or pump the water and oil that supports everything you do every moment of every day.  I am also absolutely sure YOU DIDN’T GROW YOUR OWN FOOD!  You are baby birds in a nest, no matter what you have aspired to, that are completely dependent on the momma bird of industrial society to support you.  You have done nothing independently and alone.  You are incapable of anything if you can’t even feed yourselves.  Even if you are able to go out and serve your fellow human beings, you can only do so because others ALSO SERVE YOU!”  I think that perhaps that point was so poignant in my young mind as I was struggling to find myself and look to a very uncertain future, that got me to this point.

We have completely lost touch with 1.  The skills needed to support and feed ourselves and 2. Just how much unpaved land and resources it takes to support the millions of those who live on pavement.  We were a nation that was built by neighbors helping neighbors build farms and barns.  We were not built by the Marlboro man, greed is good, I got mine screw everyone else, paradigm of today.  Get over it.  In fact, you need society and infrastructure and the support of your fellow human beings simply to have the privilege to be able to even think like that.

We here at JAZ Farm are also dependent on the system.  We make no bones about it; but we have chosen to try to figure out how to derive more and more satisfaction by taking that which we were privileged to be able to take from the system and use it to become less of a burden on it.  We do feed ourselves.  We are on our way to trying to live not only Off – Grid… but as the author Michael Bunker describes, we want to live Off  Off-Grid.  Every time we do something like freeze food – we ask… what would happen if there wasn’t electricity?  How would we store things then?  How would we can if we couldn’t get propane?  How would we get staples if the diesel fleet stopped running?  How do you go back to an Amish style (without all the god crap) of life and know that you can be self-supporting?  Can YOU do this?  This is very different from being a “prepper”.  Prepping comes off as militant and that you see your fellow citizens as an enemy.  Homesteading and self-sustainability is communal.  It is a welcoming in of those who have transcended the Ego of the west and want to live peacefully and in touch with the natural roots that have been torn away to make way for more pavement.  Check your ego at the door and help your neighbors so they will want to help you in return.

It is my opinion that every action you take and every purchase you make is either done blindly and unconsciouslhy (which makes you a sheep) or is an indication of your overall world view.  Why play golf when you can garden?  Why watch TV when you can take care of livestock?  Why put yourself into a living situation where you have no choice but to be completely dependent on a system that mentally and physically feeds you poison and in turn poisons the world?

We are not perfect, but this has been one hell of an effort.  Now that we have finished one big cycle of the homestead’s life, I hope the result, in addition to the increased satisfaction and happiness of my family, will be the inspiration of others to turn on the creative gene and do likewise: create that which creates tribe, community, personal satisfaction, and health.

End of Chapter One of the building and working of a small homestead on the high plains of Colorado.

Farmer Jon

Contemplating The Next Evolution

photo 2-4           photo 3-3

 

Vegan Dog

 

This post is more of me thinking it out as I type.  I believe completely that there are no mistakes and where you are currently is exactly where you should be.  Why that is the case isn’t always clear, so sometimes one has to sit down, shut up and simply let it all unfold.  Now anyone who knows me knows just how difficult that can be.  After all, if something needs fixing (even with my clients) by god it gets fixed!  There is none of this waiting around nonsense.  There is a problem, it has a solution, get after it!

Not so trying to figure out what does and doesn’t work on a farm.  We have met with success and failures this year and it is the job of a good homesteader/farmer to learn from both and improve.  So indeed, some navel gazing time is in order.  Considering that it is cloudy and looks of rain today, what better time to ponder.

The successes:  We got the place and built the majority of the infrastructure inside a year’s time.  The chickens both for eggs and meat have gone without a hitch.  The building of windbreaks and irrigation systems have worked pretty well but I need to remember to keep checking the timer systems and the associated screw joints.  I have had a couple of leaks but all in all it looks like this system will work out.  The observing field is a great place to star gaze and the new deck (that was forced to be replaced because of dry rotted wood) is a fabulous place to sit outside and just look at the expanse of the plains.  Our seeding rooms at both places are working great.  I am so pleased and thankful to have such a big space to get the plants started in the spring (although some ventilation in the farmhouse basement is in order as all of those plants made it incredibly humid – bad for the telescope).

The setbacks:  To sound like a politician, “no one could have anticipated” the massive hail beatings we took this year.  After the shock, and trying to salvage the garden at the farm, I have been hearing tales of whoa from just about everyone.  It did bring some things into focus.  Unless it is a storage crop, it simply cannot be planted out here.  Kitchen garden vegetables (those with leafy stems and produce fruit) are on a roulette wheel and cannot recover from these peltings in time to be useful.  We planned almost exclusively to encounter drought and wind.  We got the exact opposite:  Hail and thunderstorms.  So how do we adapt?  This next season the urban farm will be home to all of the kitchen garden plants (tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, spinach, kale, cucumbers, zucchini, broccoli, basil, etc).  That garden already has hoop covers and it has proven itself to produce huge amounts of vegetables.  The only thing that needs to be done to it prior to next season is to trim back the tree.  Since we cut down our aspens, the ash tree has gone nuts.  It is casting too much shade.  So this winter some of it will become firewood.  The plan is then, as we replenish our cash reserves, to wait for the greenhouse I have my eye on to go on sale.  This will give us a year to get it constructed and not disrupt the growing season.

The soil:  In the city, I was able to hand tailor the soil in the garden beds by bringing in 50 yards of planters mix to put over the rock hard clay.  That soil has been developed over the years to become a black sight to behold.  At the farm it is simply too big to do that.  It is also mostly sand.  In good organic gardening fashion I made all 18 rows, raised beds.  They average about 45 feet long and at the beginning of the season they were about 15 inches high.  Ordinarily that would be a good thing; unfortunately with the hail and thunderstorm deluges the erosion was awful.  The sandy soil wore away to the tune of more than an inch per storm.  So a couple three things need to happen:  1.  The beds need to be lower or flat to the ground.  To achieve the same result as a raised bed they will need to be broad forked so the root depth is adequate.  A six inch raise is ok but unless I can find free timbers to box in all of those beds they can’t be raised.  2.  Huge amounts of compost needs to be worked in.  I did some this year and those beds where I did have held up pretty well.  Fortunately I have about  50 yards of compost.  If that isn’t enough then we will need to check into bringing some in from off property.  3.  Each year a section is going to have to be held out of production and have cover crops like alfalfa, clover, buckwheat, beans, etc. to help get more organic matter into the ground.  4.  Because it is the winter that is the windiest time of year, to keep all of the above in place, the beds need to be covered and staked.  It appears that the rolls of burlap I ordered will come in handy.

The Plants:  I found some neat hoop covers from Grower’s Supply that should work well to keep some of the more sensitive plants covered.  Winter squash still has big leaves so they need some protection.  The beets and carrots could use some cover as well as the onions when they are young and fragile.  So some of the beds will get hoop covers similar to the one’s in the city (only more stoutly constructed).  At the farm, anything that has been started indoors shouldn’t be planted outside until the first week of June.  Not because of frost but because of the violent weather that accompanies the snow melt in the high country.  The urban farm can be planted around the week before Memorial Day as has always been the case.  At the same time we will be investigating greenhouse construction that will eventually bring all of the vegetable growing to the farm.  The urban farm will likely become a pollinator garden, along with greens and my usual huge garlic crop.

The winter project then will be to get the pig pen built and the front 5-7 acres fenced in anticipation of putting up a barn.

So the universe didn’t seem to be telling me that we were idiots for starting this venture and that we should get out.  It was showing me in pretty “right between the eyes” fashion what works and doesn’t work here.  OK OK!  I get it.

I notice that when I get going on this farm construction kick, that I see it in the fashion of it being an organic farm designed for production of veggies and such to be marketed at places like farmers markets.  That simply isn’t true.  We may do some of that in retirement, but it was never intended to be that.  It is a homestead; a little house on the prairie (literally); and its mission is to try to provide the maximum amount of food this family consumes in a year.  While we have had a learning setback this past spring, it is still well on its way to accomplishing that mission.  It is the farmer him/herself that needs to maintain the proper perspective.  It is now time to grow the place now that it is built.  The fun part, it seems, is within grasp.  I hope this helps with anyone else looking to do something like this.  Sometimes mother nature swings her bat pretty hard.  I wish you all the best successes.  Keep persevering.  What else is there?

A Blog Posting From Another Homestead

A Facebook Friend posted this article.  I give all credit to them and don’t think this could have been written any better.  That folks, as they say, is that.  QED

Cold Antler Farm:  A Scrappy Washington County Freehold

An Open Letter To Angry Vegetarians:

About once a week I get an email or comment from the Animal Rights contingent. It is expected and usually I do not engage. I need to remember that when I published my first book I was a vegetarian raising a few laying hens and pet rabbits. Readers who knew me as the 25-year-old girl they read about (at the time just farm-curious and toying with the idea of homesteading) meet a very differnet woman on my current blog. To read that book and then pop into a blog where just seven years later that same vegetarian is raising hogs, lambs, and poultry for meat is unsettling and shocking to some readers. And so I get these notes from what I call the Angry Vegetarians. The folks who feel personally betrayed, not just for my change of diet but my change in ideas. Yesterday I was called a murderer. I’ve been called that many times, and in some emails, that is the nicest part of the correspondence.

The following is a letter to that Angry Vegetarian and to any others who may feel the same way. But before you read it please understand that this letter is not directed at the vegetarian diet in general. I have no qualms with it, at all. Millions of people avoid meat for religious, health-related, or various reasons of preference. This letter is not directed at them. This is a letter for the angry folks who think not eating meat makes them morally superior to those of us who do.

Dear A.V. Club,

I recently received your note, the one that accused me of being a murderer. I understand why you are angry and I applaud your compassion. I understand because I was a vegetarian for nearly a decade, the same breed as yourself actually. Meaning; I chose the diet because of a love for animals, passion for conservation, and concern for our diminishing global resources. Avoiding meat seemed to be a kinder, gentler, and more ecological choice. I supported PETA. I had ads in Vegan magazines for my design website. I am no longer a vegetarian and do raise animals on my small farm for the table, but we have more in common than you may realize.

It would be foolish for me to try and change your mind about eating animals, and I have no interest in doing so. The vegetarian diet is a fine diet. We live in a time of great abundance and luxury, and that means choices! Never before in the history of the human animal have so many options for feeding ourselves been presented like they are now. If you want to eat a gluten-free, dairyless, low cholestoral, and mid-range protein diet based on whey extracted from antibiotic free Jersey Cows- you can. Your great grandparents could not. There was no almond milk at the Piggly Wiggly and ration cards kinda ruined that conga line. But now there is so much food and your diet is as much a personal a choice as your religion and sexuality, possibly even more personal. So understand I am not writing you this open letter because you don’t eat meat. I’m writing you this letter because you called me a murderer.

Murder is a legal term, meaning the unlawful and premeditated act of taking a life, usually with malevolent intent. To call me a murderer is to imply that I broke the law and there is malice intended in my actions. When animals are harvested here for food, I assure you there is none. There is only gratitude, respect, and blessed relief. I do not enjoy taking animal lives and the bulk of my supposed premeditation include looking up recipes. I am not a murderer.

But I am a killer.

You are 100% correct. I kill animals. I raise chickens and rabbits from young fluffballs in the palms of my hands and mindfully bring them to the age of harvest when they are killed and stored for food. If I don’t do the killing myself I hire a professional butcher to come to my farm and harvest the pigs I raised. I am also a licensed hunter in the state of New York, where I stalk deer and wild game of all sorts. I also do this with the intention of harvest. I am a killer for my table and I fully understand the seriousness of that statement. I also understand why you are disgusted by it. You are digusted because you see me as taking sentient lives when there are alternative choices as bloodless and innocent as the down on a muscovy duckling.

I know that I do not need to eat meat to survive, but I also know now that it is impossible for me to live without killing. It is impossible for you, too. I think this is the heart of our misunderstanding. This is why PETA and the FTCLDF are not working together to be one giant powerhouse for good and ending animal suffering. Most animal rights activists do not acknowledge (or perhaps are not aware) that every meal includes death. The simplest backyard salad from your own organic garden to the fake bacon in your shopping cart — both take lives. I have simply chosen to take lives in a way that causes the least amount of suffering and causes the least amount of wasted global resources. And yes, it means there is blood on my hands now.

I know that is hard to understand. It was hard for me, too.

I was a vegetarian and animal activist before I was a farmer, but that was all about passion for me and did not include much science. The only things I read about meat and the environment were based on giant corporate farms. I did not understand anything about ecology, biology, wilderness, and the personal responsibility of eating local. But what I really didn’t understand was agriculture. I mean I was totally ignorant. I did not think about anything but ingredients on the package, never questioning the methods or politics behind them or the larger picture. As long as my dinner did not include animal flesh or animal products I was content in my righteousness. I was a pro-choice vegan. To be blunt, I didn’t think things through.

The truth is there is no meal we can eat without killing. None. A trip to your local grocery store for tofu and spinach may not include a single animal product but the harvesting of such food costs endless animal lives. Growing fields of soy beans for commercial clients means removing habitat from thousands of wild animals, killing them through deforestation and loss of their home. Songbirds and insects are killed by pesticides at legion. Fertilizers are made from petroleum now, and those fields of tofu seeds are literally being sprayed with oil we are fighting wars over. Deer died for that tofu. Songbirds died. Men and women in battle died. And then when the giant tofu factory harvested the beans they ran over those chemical oil fields of faux-food with combines that rip open groundhogs, mice, and rabbits. Tear apart frogs and fledgling birds. It is a messy and bloody business making tofu or any of that other non-murderous food.

What about organic tofu and vegetables? That doesn’t include chemical fertilizers and the companies are mindful? Right? Well, that is correct. But if you are not using oil to fertilize your crops then you are using organic material: manure, blood, bone, fish, etc. You may be a vegetarian but your vegetables are the most voracious of all carnivores. That small farm at your local green market needed to lay down a lot of swine blood, cow bone, and horse poop freeze-dried in bags marked “ORGANIC” to grow those carrots so big and sweet. Animals are an integral part of growing food for us, as food themselves or creating the materials that feed the earth. And the earth must be fed.

And let us not forget the miles on the road these vegetarian options must travel. That oil-free organic tofu sure needs a lot of diesel to get here to New York…

You can not ignore this. You can’t call a small farmer a murderer and turn a blind eye to the groundhog ripped in two, the owl without a nest, or the blood spilled for oil halfway across the globe through military force. I mean, you can ignore it, of course you can. You can also search the internet for people killing pigs and call them names, but that doesn’t make you right. There is nothing you or I eat that wasn’t once alive save for some minerals. Plants and mushrooms are living things, just as alive as animals. And we take their lives wholesale and without regret. In the words of Joel Salatin,

” …By what stretch of arrogance do you think a life form that looks like you is more important than a life form that doesn’t?”

Though I know you may not appreciate that quote. After all, Joel is a murderer, too.

I eat animals I raise myself because I want to eat local food that causes less animal suffering and empowers my local community. I live in upstate New York. A place where farming vegetables does not make sense. This is a far cry from southeast Asia or southern California. Our growing season is around 100 days. What we can grow here in bulk is grass, and by extension the meat that eats the grass. We can let hogs range our woods and eat grubs, vegetation, and nuts. We can buy local non-GMO feed grown by our neighbors and give our animals full lives, outdoors and on pasture! Eating meat here is eating in a way that respects our region’s food shed.

We can graze our animals in ways that returns good nutrients to the soil and heal the earth. We can grow two or three harvests of those grasses and feed them to animals like sheep, cows, and goats all winter. This is what my part of the world eats if they are serious about saving the environment. We can do this without using a lot of oil, close to home, and harvest the animals we know without driving to a store to waste gas, plastic bags, and pave another parking space. When I kill a chicken I end one life. A life I was present for, grateful for, and worked hard for. I have a hard time taking criticism seriously from someone who swipes a credit card for a bag of groceries they have convinced themselves is more righteous, having never weeded a row or hefted a bag of feed. A really hard time.

My “murdered” pigs were raised from babes, seen to several times a day, carefully tended and lived a life of ample space, porcine company, sunshine, mud puddles, and rooting their snoots in the dirt. They were raised with the help of a small village of folks who bought shares of the pigs to help pay for my livelihood. These people are counting on me to help them buy good food that isn’t laced with antibiotics or factory farm atrocities. And while raising these pigs I purchased feed from neighbors raising non GMO field corn and soy, a rarity these days. I employed a small butcher and his staff to come to my farm so these pigs never have to be loaded into a truck and driven away to a slaughterhouse. They have had one bad day, one bad moment actually, and that moment surprised the hell out of them.

Eat in whatever way invokes respect and gratitude in your soul. Be grateful we live in this time of contrived and soon-to-be over luxury and abundance. But do not come to battle here, accusing those of us raising good meat of murder. Those are fighting words, unkind words, and for someone so intensely passionate about treating animals well you seem to have no issue treating human beings like crap. I’m an animal, too. I would appreciate some ethical treatment.

So, yes. I am a killer. I take lives and eat the flesh of sentient beings. I farm and fish. I hunt and stalk. I fully embrace this primal and beloved part of my person. I do this with great joy and appreciation, savoring every bite of effort, community, time, and grace those meals include. Each slice of bacon or bite of roasted chicken comes with a couple dozen faces of neighbors and friends. It comes with stories of carrying buckets in the rain, of catching escaped piglets, of never leaving for a vacation or even visiting my family for Christmas.

I am a solider for my soil, stationed here at these 6.5 acres to create mindful, healthy, food because I think it makes a better and more peaceful world. And that world is not found in the fake meat section of the grocery store, darling. Life is not a storybook where you get to ignore the fact that the Three Little Pigs boiled a wolf alive. Eating meat you raised means eating food infused with integreity, sweat, loyalty, determination, love, friendship, memories, loss, perserverance and respect.

And none of these things are ingredients you will not find on a package of tofu no matter how close you look.

Musings On Planting Season

Sometimes I regret starting this blog.  There are times I feel that every move involved with trying to make this hobby farm/homestead successful is being watched like having someone watching over my shoulder.  This, of course, is my own insecurity talking.  Most everyone is pulling for us and most who follow our journey are either on this journey themselves, or understand full well why we are doing it.

This past two weeks has been quite a learning experience.  The spring melt-off in the high country certainly packs some amazing surprises.  While I have known and experienced them all in past springs, it has not been with the need to plant a half an acre organic garden attached to the experience.  Sure we have had hail at the urban farm, but all of those beds combined barely add up to two of the 18 we have here on the high plains.

We experienced two wickedly intense storms while trying to get the garden in.  I’ve posted about their severity in earlier blogs.  On top of that we watched most every day on radar, storms just as intense as the hail storm hoping and praying that they would track around us.  Fortunately they did, but the two that didn’t….. what damage they caused.

The two garden areas are on a slight decline going from west to east.  When the hail and the rain descended upon us and because of the sandy composition of the soil, we had amazing erosion.  At the base of the main garden there is now 5 to 6 inches of sediment that had washed down hill.  The surface area of most of the uncovered beds bled soil off into the walkways.  Of course, now that it has dried, it is all hard as concrete.

Seeing the forest for the trees is a skill.  As I have mentioned, and my wife is continually reminding me, this is the first year of attempting this.  It is also a giant experiment that will go on for many many years.  To expect perfection after all of the back breaking and mind numbing work that has been involved is simply unrealistic.  For that, I keep my sanity.  For that, I continue to post so that others in as difficult a landscape – or those fortunate enough to be in more opportune habitat – can learn from what we are attempting here.

One personal challenge was trying to keep it all together when my “help” (my wife, my son and my visiting mother) would hit me with a never ending barrage of questions about what to do next when I had no fricking idea.  I am pretty good at trouble shooting, but I was as mind numbed from this spring weather as anyone else was.  I felt like a worksite foreman simply faking it and hoping the project got completed.  Don’t get me wrong, It WAS a 4 person project and I am so grateful for the help, but the questions from the inquisitive eyes that were saying in my mind: “Hey perfesser, what are we going to do about XYZ?” made me want to crawl into a hole at times.  But instead…. we just kept moving forward.

I had this vision in my head as we were being pelted by grape sized hail, knowing that many of our plants would be stripped bare by the intensity, about those who have gone before.  If you have ever seen a real original homestead out here, they are smaller than a one car garage (sometimes the size of a “Tuff Shed”).  Wells were practically non-existent and yet people came out here (after driving off the natives of course) and tried to make a go of it.  One of these kinds of storms was a life destroyer.  If you lost crops or if your livestock was predated or destroyed, you were not just inconvenienced…. you were dead.  There was no “replant and go to the local grocery store” as a back up.  Crop failure for a homesteader was a terminal event.  Remembering this makes having to eat some crow when mother nature reasserts who is damn straight in control, not such a bitter pill to swallow.  On top of that, no matter what happens, the urban farm is also planted and at last glance is proceeding along nicely as usual.

The plants too are amazingly resilient.  Of the hundred pepper plants that were stripped to the stems in the hail storm, at least half have begun re-sprouting leaves.  We have already replaced them in the garden, but I am now inclined to keep them around in their pots and see what happens.  Nothing to lose.  If they recover and produce, any kind of pepper fruit, because they are heirlooms and breed true, I will simply save the seeds for next year.

So what did we learn here?  We learned that if we have big, deep, snowpack in the mountains, the spring weather is going to be severe.  As a result, plan on planting the weekend of Memorial Day and into the first week of June and not before unless it is direct seeding.

Start the plants in the grow room around the first or second week of March, not the end of February and don’t be in a big hurry to get them outside to harden off.

All of the beds MUST be diligently cared for and covered.  Straw, held down with burlap and sandbags, will help keep the beds from eroding so badly when the deluges hit.  It is one added step, but I see no other way to grow on the high plains if the beds can’t be protected from the elements.

Concentrate on a lot of root vegetables and those that can be directly seeded.  Those that have fruit on the vine so to speak, like tomatoes, tomatillos, egg plant, etc., are fragile and are the most at risk for violent weather.  They can be done but one needs to wait until the violent storm cells subside before exposing them to the elements.

Lastly, keep one’s perspective.  JAZ Farm is an effort in and an experiment about being able to feed one’s self exclusively from the labor of one’s own hands.  If it succeeds at all it will reduce the amount of dependency we have on a broken food system.  The gap can be made up by fellow farmers, by buying at farmer’s markets and by buying bulk when necessary.  This is what being social and developing community is all about.  No one is an island and mother nature will remind you of that in short order.

In addition – I also go round and round with my vegetarian and vegan friends regarding livestock.  We know from a nutrition stand -point that the human being does not require animal protein to live.  I am all on board with that and I agree completely.  However, again looking at mother nature and looking at how those who have gone before must have done to make it through the bitter and cruel winters on the plains makes one take pause.  The most efficient way to have food through the winter (because wake up folks, they didn’t all have ball canning jars and pressure canners then) was to put your food on feet.  Chickens, cattle, pork, all can weather a winter and can all forage for food in ways humans cannot.  A ruminant can make it on grass… a human cannot.  In order for a human to survive on the plains the grass needed to be converted to protein via a ruminant (animal that can digest grass).  Had those “meat animals” not existed, I have to surmise that a large swath of the homesteaders out on the plains would not have survived either…. not to mention the tether of a life line of supplies coming out from the east.  As a result, I affirm my food lifestyle as a declared “Mostly-terrian” or Flexaterian as many refer to it.  It is best summed up by the author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan:  Eat food, Not too Much, Mostly Plants.

This first planting season of the JAZ Farm taught a lot of lessons.  Not the least of which is an appreciation for the fact that until the oil runs out…. which will happen sooner than most think…. I have some seasons to perfect this fiasco and adventure that has become my non-“real work” obsession.  The beans are up, the hail didn’t destroy everything, the beets are coming up, some corn is sending up shoots, the strawberries are getting leaves, unexpectedly, the melons have germinated, and we are much the wiser for all of it.  The meat birds are fattening up nicely and the layers are a never ending source of entertainment.  JAZ Farm rocks….  my suggestion:  get out of the gym and off that bicycle that goes nowhere, pick up a shovel and go plant something outdoors…. you will be the more enlightened because of it.