Once Again, From the Beginning......

Remember way back when we posted pics of our first big day of transplanting?


















Here is that field a few days ago.......











I always chuckle a bit when I hear people report that "I planted the garden yesterday". Here, we start planting and transplanting the first good weather in March, and continue to plant right up until September 15th or so. Fast growing short season crops like arugula and cilantro are seeded every two weeks, things like lettuce and cabbage are transplanted on a three week schedule, and even corn is planted twice a year to maintain a steady supply of produce at its peak throughout the growing season.






How do we get all those seeds in the ground you might ask; well I'll tell ya. We favor outdated equipment made popular at a time when diversity and local markets where the norm in agriculture in this country. These are Planet Junior seeders. They are probably almost forty years old, and the design has changed little since the first one was made. They are simple, and allow us to use the same tool for almost every crop we plant simply by changing a set of plates located at the bottom of the hoppers. Here they are full of green beans, our third planting so far this year.



Here is where the rubber meets the road. For the first time in history I allowed someone else to run the seeders while I walked behind and made sure everything was coming out OK. Patrick did a great job despite my constant demand that he turn around and look at me while driving a straight row. Anyone can drive a straight line looking where they are going. In farming this has to be maintained while looking back at equipment. It is peoples inclination to turn the wheel slightly as they turn to look behind them. He did well, and if he had failed there is always the old adage, "you can fit more seeds in a crooked row".

Irritation

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. After we plant and transplant if it gets warm, and it usually does. We have to irrigate. Ever notice that hot spell this time of year when temperatures seem to go from 50 to near 90 and stay that way for a week? We do. It means we have to set pumps and move pipe. We water primarily with three inch aluminum hand line, which is set in the field by hand from the back of a trailer and moved in increments of sixty feet at a time across the field. We have four different sites now and almost two hundred sticks of pipe which are moved twice a day until everything is watered. It is a job I really don't even like to talk about, especially with anyone who has not done it before. It is a job for which I pretend I work for someone else and "just get it done". It is a job that produces the kind of facial expression pictured here as Jordan gets the answer to the question "are we going to try to finish today?"

So Much Has Happened

Wow have we ever been busy. I apologize for the lag in posts but the weather broke and we have been going from daylight till dusk and beyond for weeks. The Home Fields are nearly all planted. We filled in some blanks with more lilies and perennial flowers yesterday, and the only ground left here to plant is being reserved for our next strawberries which are due to arrive any day now. This is a view from the north showing our shiny new barn roof, the green houses, and the fields north of the house. these are planted to perennial flowers and strawberries. (I have a pint On the desk right now and our CSA customers can look forward to them in the first delivery this coming Tuesday the 16th). Several flats headed north this morning to the Olympia Food Coops. The report came early that after directing the crew to run through them quickly and harvest what was ripe that they brought in eleven flats.



The fields to the south of the house have more perennials and our herb garden which we moved this spring. In the foreground are cabbages and kohlrabi.

When the weather turns in spring in the Boistfort Valley everything breaks loose. Tractors outnumber cars on the Boistfort Rd some mornings and any time of night or day you can find someone working. I must admit that I have always had a hard time on Memorial Day weekend watching the boats and barbecues roll by from the seat of a tractor. But I am in good company here. Several farmers whether commodities or hay are working as much or more than we do. It is strangely comforting when I have been working from 6am till dark or later and am heading home sweaty,dirty and sometimes wet from irrigation repairs, to pass Nil or Dave on the road or see Dan out there in the middle of the field running under lights from the tractor.

Thomas Jefferson wrote in his "Notes on Virginia" that, "Cultivators of the earth are the most valuable citizens. They are the most vigorous, the most independent, the most virtuous, and they are tied to their country and wedded to its liberty and interests by the most lasting bonds."

It is times like these when everyone here at the farm is stretching their boundaries of endurance and stamina that I often reflect on this. I am both groping for some sense of justice and hoping to make sense of the fact that I get up before my daughter is awake and get home after she is asleep. Here are facts as I see them; I like to work. I am from a solid blue collar family, my father was a stone mason, my brother is a stone mason, and most of my cousins and nephews are in the trades. My sense of value is based largely on what I produce. This, for better or worse.

Further, farmers do not have the luxury of setting their schedules. We are given a finite amount of time without knowing what that amount will be, when it will start, or when it will end. We answer straight to the top when it comes to scheduling; the very top, the powers that be.


Along with the sacrifice of keeping these hours, we as farmers, if we listen carefully, are granted insight into the workings of nature like no other people. We are tethered to the sun and the rain, to the soil and the river. Though I am not one to bask in the romance of this, nor certainly to take credit for it, it is a tangible and moving experience. I do hope that I can pass this experience on to my daughter, all or in part, and in so doing repay her for missing jammy time this time of year.


Dave Fenn is seeding corn here in this picture. He and his brother Dan may be the best farmers I know. They cover alot of ground and do it with sense and style. Their ability to conserve moisture before and after planting, and the shear volume of food they produce are praiseworthy. Though they are conventional farmers they have begun to dabble in organic production. For these guys dabbling means a few hundred acres of corn and beans. I also admire the fact that they are so diverse. They grow the usual corn and peas etc. but also produce seed crops and have grown winter squash on a large scale successfully in western Washington. This last fact alone makes them heroic in my book. Of course they not only grew the winter squash, they designed and fabricated, along with local genius Steve Vantuyl, a harvester for the squash made from an old combine. "The Squasher" made the pages of the Capitol Press, and was a real headturner.

These two brothers farm the hop yard down the road and I get to watch their progress there driving from field to field. I also pass Nil and Tom, see Joel at the store between bailing and irrigating, and pass several working dairies as I drive back and forth, or move equipment. It is hard to feel sorry for yourself when surrounded by such a cast of characters, many of them second or even third generation farmers.

Yes, I am in good company.

The Grass isn't Always Greener

Here is a view from another seat I occupy here at the farm. As the farm grows, so does the burden of office work. Unlike our agricultural brothers and sisters in the commodities business who sign contracts in winter then get to the business of growing, have their fields harvested by the contract holders, then receive a check in fall, we do all of our own marketing. That means we have a "sales team" albeit an informal one, and are also responsible for the development and distribution of our own advertising. We also are responsible for all the fun stuff like paying bills, and keeping track of our customers concerns and payments. Boistfort Valley Farm employs 18 people in the summer. We grow , harvest , pack, and deliver our own product. Each of these areas has someone in an oversight position and a team of people on the ground getting things done. they all need a paycheck, not to mention a place to have lunch. And just between you and me, things don't always go smoothly.



In an effort to grow up and create a work environment based on harmony rather than chaos I spent a lot of time this winter developing a business organization chart and creating job descriptions and performance contracts in an effort to educate everyone here of the expectations of their positions and create a working model for the farm and its business structure. Here is my magnus opus, drawn in sharpee on a piece of cardboard and displayed prominently above my Orange County Choppers Pez dispensers and lava lamp.

I sometimes imagine our customers, especially those in urban areas, sitting at their desks, or in a board meeting, and imagining the ideal farming life; rising at dawn and spending the day communing with nature and growing good food for good people while the birds chirp in the background. Or maybe you picture me sitting at the breakfast table eating bacon and eggs and reading the farm report with my daughter bouncing and smiling on my lap, Heidi standing behind us in a floral print apron asking if anyone would like another pancake. We do experience those moments, but in fairness I wanted you all to know that we also spend our share of time meeting with staff, on the phone, at the computer, and doing all those things that a business requires to function smoothly.


We also have a secret weapon. Pictured here is "Marci" (her name has been changed to protect our asset, as she moonlights here at the farm). She comes in once or twice a week and does in a few hours what used to take me all day. She enters all the CSA member information, and creates invoices and enters payments. She balances our check books, reconciles accounts, makes payroll, and pays the bills. She is awesome. At the end of each session I answer a few questions, put my signature on checks and ask sheepishly, "is there any money left?". "Marci" also introduced me to Pandora radio, for which I am eternally grateful. So next time you imagine the farm try picturing me on the phone while my cell phone rings and someone comes in the office with the disaster du jour. I am happy to be a link in this chain of events, and though I clearly prefer being out there in the field I am proud of everyone here for adjusting to the changing environment at the farm and for putting their best foot forward in making it a success.

Boistfort Valley Farm Gets Plowed

After getting our first round of seeds and transplants in we began to plow in earnest. Very few people plow any more, it is a real lost art. When you see it done correctly it can give you shivers. Here is a view from the seat of the John Deere 3020. We are working about 12 acres here; trying to plow straight and true and flop all the grass from this winter's cover crop under so we can follow with discing and tilling.

Much like with the transplanter I keep my eye on the furrows and endeavor to keeps things straight straight straight. There are a few jokes around here regarding plowing; 1) Always plow parallel to the road so people can't see your furrows, and 2) Plow after people are home from work and disk in the morning.


The tractor we use for plowing and disking is a 1969 John Deere 3020 Diesel. If you close your eyes and picture a tractor, that's the JD 3020. She is in beautiful condition and builds horsepower based on displacement rather than any of that newfangled gimmickry. A very simple machine that sounds great and is a joy to run. Many old timers will tell you that the 30 series is the last real tractor. I don't know about that but I do know this, it is the only tractor we own with a factory hood ornament and cigarette lighter.


When you're plowing you should always look forward. When you turn in the seat you naturally turn the wheel slightly in the direction that you are twisting your body as you look over your shoulder. If you do turn around you should definitely not hold and focus a camera, however if you did, you would get a glimpse at the plows as they fold the top layer of soil over and under the soil below.


Here's what we did for lunch that day. While plowing one of my plows "tripped", which means.....Well on a set of "breaking plows" they are held in place by a big old pin, if you hook something large enough and are moving with enough force, the plow will trip and sort of flop up out of the ground. They can easily be reset by backing up with the plows on the ground. However, then you are obligated to find out what did it. In this case it was an old cedar tree that finally decided to surface. You can see the pile of limbs forming just behind and to the right of the loader bucket. It was a crying shame to dig a big hole in middle of this field but well, we had no choice.

It started me thinking about farming and all other things I suppose. It seems to me that you can teach anyone to plow in a straight line, that the technical skills of any occupation can be developed, even mastered. But the true measure of ones achievement has to be how they handle adversity, how they get the job done under conditions that are unpredictable and sometimes downright unpleasant.

So how did we do?
I think we did real well.
I finished plowing this field yesterday while Patrick mowed the cover crop of the next. By 6pm I had plowed three acres at our third field and Patrick had finished all the field mowing and even spruced up around the edges. We had a short day today as the rain that I have been hoping for to water in all our transplants came late last night and into morning.

We have enough ground ready now that we can start fertilizing, and getting ready for the next round of seeds, and transplanting onions.

A Veiw from the Seat

On the 17th after a few days without real precip, we got started. We filled all the fallow ground we had at the farm with potatoes, early peas, lettuce transplants, cilantro, carrots and beets then a planting of what we refer to as Asian misc; arugala, tatsoi, hon tsai tai, radishes, and boc choy. We finished under tractor light expecting rain the next day, we were not disappointed. We got almost an inch two days later. Here, the crew has finished planting potatoes and they are walking back as the tractor prepares to cover the spuds with a set of furrowers.


Then we set in plowing and disking and in short order covered the rest of the ground here at the "home place". We have about nine acres cultivated at the house. We have three other locations leased. We will cultivate a total of about 45 acres this year.




On the 20th we started planting the Kahout Rd. This field totals about 12 acres and is a beautiful secluded site which is ,for better or worse, loaded with wildlife; elk, deer, the occasional bear, and myriad raptors and other birds.
This picture was taken early Monday morning. I am showing off our list of transplants to go in. We set 11,000 plants that day; mostly broccoli, cabbage and kale.

Here is the view from the seat of the transplant tractor. Looking between Liana and Jesus you can see Heidi back there "kicking"; making sure the plants are going in at the proper depth and setting well. To the left is Patrick "Home Sweet" Homa staying ahead of the crew on the tiller. We kept him busy that day.

This is what I am focused on all day. I strive for the straightest rows possible and follow my tire tracks five feet across at a time as we make our way over the acreage, moving at between 2 and .5 miles per hour. Things get a little boring in the seat on days like this, but the finished product is nothing short of miraculous.

When the smoke cleared at about 5pm on the afternoon of the 21st we had finished with the most critical transplant and had set out over 30,000 plants. Patrick and I went back this morning and seeded some early snap beans, and as I write this he is out finishing transplanting artichokes with Liana. Jesus and Francisco are in the greenhouse potting up lettuce and tomatoes. Tomorrow we will start plowing again and the cycle will repeat itself until mid September.

As my friend Nil says: "It's a great life, if you don't weaken."

In Loving Memory of Manny Pups 9/9/1995 - 4/6/2009

More than 13 years ago on October 30th 1995 I drove up to a home in the Nissqually Valley to look at puppies. I had decided to get a dog having mourned the loss of my Golden Retriever "Candles" for long enough to feel ready to invite another pet into my life. I had decided on a Labrador Retriever and had looked at several litters already.

When I arrived, there they were, 11 total brothers and sisters yapping and wagging in a kennel with their mother. One pup caught my eye, he seemed to posses the kind of intelligence and sensitivity that you cannot train into a dog. The qualities that make for a remarkable companion. He must have thought the same of me, because the attraction was immediate and enthusiastic. We played for a bit, then not wanting to be impulsive, I left. I was back the next day, and the owner took all the pups into the house as we discussed details. Manny climbed immediately into my lap and and went to sleep as the other pups clamored around the kitchen.

On the drive home he settled under the seat of my old pickup and into a deep sleep that lasted the entire drive. This truck would become his home away from home. He went everywhere with me until age and arthritis made it too difficult for him to get in and out.

As a young dog Manny enjoyed running around, sniffing, and swimming. His greatest passion in life was fetching sticks thrown into the river. His love of female companionship as a young dog gave way to more refined interests later in life. His appreciation of sausage remains unparalleled in my experience. He enjoyed a long full life with all the canine benefits of living on a riverfront farm.

On the afternoon of April 6th Heidi came and got me. Manny was in one of our greenhouses breathing heavily and unable to get up. I went to him. He was weak. I picked him up and carried him to the shade behind the shop. We sat down together in the grass. He laid his head in my lap much like he had done over a decade ago. He closed his eyes. His breathing got shallower and shallower and then he drifted off; dieing with the same dignity and grace with which he had lived.

Dear friend, you will be sorely missed.