Reposted from July 29, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry23.html#body
by Melissa Jeter aka HUF
Harvest Season
Well, as harvest season is upon us, I look out upon the land and I wonder, , , How the heck did all that THAT get there! The corn is 6 foot tall, the tomato plants are trying to give them a run for their money; the sunflowers are starting second and third flowers; the blackberries have all been picked and the basil is up to my knees. The potato plants have sprawled over their raised bed and on to the sidewalk. Mint and lemon balm have grown wild in the landscaping. And a few seeds have even sprouted in the cracks of the sidewalk.
Because no,I refuse to use roundup or some other seed destroying chemicals. That ain’t hip.
My neighbor looks over her fence into my yard, she shakes her head and walks away. I think she’s making judgements about the weeds in my yard.
Little does she know that this is an urban farm!
However, I begin to think, “It’s time to put this puppy to bed.” So I am thinking about how I can pull the mint and lemon balm out of the garden space to make it all nice and neat. . . organized.
The last time I did this my neighbor, exclaimed, that’s the best thing you have ever done to the yard. Yeah, just forget about the mint and dill, I have given you over the past few years.
Anyway, the plan, is to pull the mint and lemon balm. It’ll still come back. Cut down the oregano and dry it out. The blackberry canes will be cut down to the ground, in hopes of more berries next year.
But what about the fun stuff you ask?
I’m still waiting for red tomatoes from my plants. But, it’s almost time to dig up potatoes and I can’t wait to see what they look like. I’ve been trying to hand fertilize the corn just in case there weren’t enough bees buzzing around. I can only hope that this will work and I get corn kernels on the cob. There were a few pods from the soy bean plants. Not as much as I hoped.
In the meantime, I will enjoy the harvest from friends whose earlier planting have yielded great abundance. Thanks, friends! I am open to receiving any veggies you are wiling to share.
Ain’t Mother Nature Grand!
two comments
Yes she shole is. (Your neighbor knows a lil sumthin about positive reinforcement). Keep on sprouting.
brett (email) - 29 07 11 - 23:27
Thanks, Brett!
HUF - 05 08 11 - 13:51
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
What's Herbally Hip in Hot Weather?
Reposted from July 9, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry22.html#body
by Melissa Jeter aka HUF
Today, we reached a high temperature-97 degrees in July. So what could be better than iced tea?
Well nothing, unless you make it from herbs grown in your backyard. I love sweet tea and ice cold slushies and slurpies and all sorts of corn syrupy icy drinks. But today, I picked lemon balm mint, and a little lavendar and added a little cane sugar.
Okay, Let me be honest. It was a lot of cane sugar.
And now, I'm drinking my own herbal sweet tea. While the convenience and fast food places have good drinks, you just can't beat sweet tea that's free.
Here's the heuristic (I'm no good at accurate recipies):
Pick some lemon balm
Pick some peppermint
Pick the flower buds of the lavendar
Fill small sauce pan with water
Throw in herbs and flower buds
Boil until it smells real good or water turns brown like tea
Let it sit
Skim out the herbs and buds
Next throw in some sugar to taste
Pour tea over ice cubes
Get your self a glass and drink up.
Ahh herbal sweet tea. Enjoy!
Now that's really hip!
by Melissa Jeter aka HUF
Today, we reached a high temperature-97 degrees in July. So what could be better than iced tea?
Well nothing, unless you make it from herbs grown in your backyard. I love sweet tea and ice cold slushies and slurpies and all sorts of corn syrupy icy drinks. But today, I picked lemon balm mint, and a little lavendar and added a little cane sugar.
Okay, Let me be honest. It was a lot of cane sugar.
And now, I'm drinking my own herbal sweet tea. While the convenience and fast food places have good drinks, you just can't beat sweet tea that's free.
Here's the heuristic (I'm no good at accurate recipies):
Pick some lemon balm
Pick some peppermint
Pick the flower buds of the lavendar
Fill small sauce pan with water
Throw in herbs and flower buds
Boil until it smells real good or water turns brown like tea
Let it sit
Skim out the herbs and buds
Next throw in some sugar to taste
Pour tea over ice cubes
Get your self a glass and drink up.
Ahh herbal sweet tea. Enjoy!
Now that's really hip!
Are you a late bloomer?
Reposted from June 16, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry21.html#body
Finally it’s hot outside! After weeks of complaining about the rain, rain harvesting season is over. So now we are placing our hands in the dirt and putting those plants in the soil.
It takes a lot of thought and planning, to do urban farming. Those of us who know the work that is required before the harvest, spend a lot of time observing the weather patterns, as well as the locations and times that the sun shines on the prospective planting areas. It takes a keen mind and then a lot of hope and faith in Mother Nature.
Skills of observation, critical thinking, and planning can be taught. I believe that you can be taught to be hopeful, but then again that could be optimistic. So the worry has started again. . .
My tomato plants are so small, the pepper plants still have their new leaves on them. . well at least the corn is growing. The farmers didn’t even get to plant corn; the ground was too soggy. Ahh nuts! I won’t have tomatoes until August or September at this rate. . .
Yet, when I think about my garden over the previous years, I recall that I always have tomatoes in August. One look in my gardening journals will confirm this. I have the records.
Oh my! Oh dear! I’m a late bloomer!
Standing on the mulch, surveying my urban farm, I have come to the inevitable conclusion. The plants in my garden will bloom late. Later than if I had bought plants at the store. Later than my neighbors. Later than my friends. It is hopeless. I am a late bloomer. How about you?
Finally it’s hot outside! After weeks of complaining about the rain, rain harvesting season is over. So now we are placing our hands in the dirt and putting those plants in the soil.
It takes a lot of thought and planning, to do urban farming. Those of us who know the work that is required before the harvest, spend a lot of time observing the weather patterns, as well as the locations and times that the sun shines on the prospective planting areas. It takes a keen mind and then a lot of hope and faith in Mother Nature.
Skills of observation, critical thinking, and planning can be taught. I believe that you can be taught to be hopeful, but then again that could be optimistic. So the worry has started again. . .
My tomato plants are so small, the pepper plants still have their new leaves on them. . well at least the corn is growing. The farmers didn’t even get to plant corn; the ground was too soggy. Ahh nuts! I won’t have tomatoes until August or September at this rate. . .
Yet, when I think about my garden over the previous years, I recall that I always have tomatoes in August. One look in my gardening journals will confirm this. I have the records.
Oh my! Oh dear! I’m a late bloomer!
Standing on the mulch, surveying my urban farm, I have come to the inevitable conclusion. The plants in my garden will bloom late. Later than if I had bought plants at the store. Later than my neighbors. Later than my friends. It is hopeless. I am a late bloomer. How about you?
Where’s the blank canvass?
Reposted from June 16, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry20.html#body
As I was kneeling in my garden to weed, I look at the plants growing from seeds. I just threw those seeds in the ground. Yes, after years of reading Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholomew and companion gardening books. I just threw away the book. . . figuratively, of course.
Tomato plants need a 2 foot by 2 foot square, so I guess I can put this little roma plant in the dirt next to the wildly growing chives. Hmmmm, there’s more room over here. I pick some purslane and wild grass. Huh, look at that, it’s a volunteer tomato plant. Well, I’ll just leave that there. Let’s put some beet seeds in here next to that. They are root crops; there’s gotta be room. I crawl over to the next section. Huh, dandelion. Yeah, that’s got to go. Where’d I put that weed puller. Doggone it, Where’s my tool! Oh, there it is! Hey squirrel, get out of here!
And so it goes. . . I often think that my kneeling in the dirt is a prayer. Pulling weeds is an affirmation of hope. What I have come to realize, however, is that I never have a blank canvass. In the spring, the raised beds are already teeming with growth and seeds from the previous year. I know I could turn the soil over and use it all as some kind of green manure(??). I know that something has to die for my food, yet I can’t bring myself to do it. To create that blank canvass, where I can plant according to the directions that Mel Bartholomew has given, I must pull the weeds and the plants that voluntarily come out from last year.
When I first started the square-foot gardening raised bed, I had a blank canvass. There was new soil with no history of what came before.
Well, that dirt has a history, but I won’t launch into that discussion.
My point is that I only expected the seeds that I put into the ground to come up. Everything else was a weed. And weeds got pulled.
So, now I have no blank canvass. The soil has a history. Next year, I”m going to turn over every raised bed. I will be ruthless and meticulous. The green volunteers are compost and from that compost, the soil will be conditioned. I intend to plant as Mel Bartholomew has planned and measured out the spaces for each type of vegetable plant. I will bring order to this gardening chaos!
As I was kneeling in my garden to weed, I look at the plants growing from seeds. I just threw those seeds in the ground. Yes, after years of reading Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholomew and companion gardening books. I just threw away the book. . . figuratively, of course.
Tomato plants need a 2 foot by 2 foot square, so I guess I can put this little roma plant in the dirt next to the wildly growing chives. Hmmmm, there’s more room over here. I pick some purslane and wild grass. Huh, look at that, it’s a volunteer tomato plant. Well, I’ll just leave that there. Let’s put some beet seeds in here next to that. They are root crops; there’s gotta be room. I crawl over to the next section. Huh, dandelion. Yeah, that’s got to go. Where’d I put that weed puller. Doggone it, Where’s my tool! Oh, there it is! Hey squirrel, get out of here!
And so it goes. . . I often think that my kneeling in the dirt is a prayer. Pulling weeds is an affirmation of hope. What I have come to realize, however, is that I never have a blank canvass. In the spring, the raised beds are already teeming with growth and seeds from the previous year. I know I could turn the soil over and use it all as some kind of green manure(??). I know that something has to die for my food, yet I can’t bring myself to do it. To create that blank canvass, where I can plant according to the directions that Mel Bartholomew has given, I must pull the weeds and the plants that voluntarily come out from last year.
When I first started the square-foot gardening raised bed, I had a blank canvass. There was new soil with no history of what came before.
Well, that dirt has a history, but I won’t launch into that discussion.
My point is that I only expected the seeds that I put into the ground to come up. Everything else was a weed. And weeds got pulled.
So, now I have no blank canvass. The soil has a history. Next year, I”m going to turn over every raised bed. I will be ruthless and meticulous. The green volunteers are compost and from that compost, the soil will be conditioned. I intend to plant as Mel Bartholomew has planned and measured out the spaces for each type of vegetable plant. I will bring order to this gardening chaos!
Gardening 2010 reposted
Reposted June 10, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry19.html#body
Every year in the garden, I surprise myself. I go outside on the most spring of Spring days, when the sun is shining bright like it is today and I clean up the dog poop. Yep, someone has to do it and it has to be done before anything else, specifically gardening, can occur.
But after cleaning up after my pup'ster (who is about 12 years old if not older), I pull the dead decaying plants away from the new green shoots that are coming up. It's at this point that I begin to remember last year's garden. "Oh yeah, there was cabbage in this spot," I think as I pull out what is left of the stalk. I think about what I will rotate into that place this year. I ask myself if I grew tomatoes in this other spot, because if I did, I think, I can't grow peppers over here; they are in the same family. And you know how family can be at times; I believe in the crop rotation method. Something else must go there this year.
These thoughts are all that is left of how I used to garden. I used to garden by a strict plan. You see, in January, I'd get out my Square Foot Gardening book and graph paper, and I would draw the garden and decide where I would plant every single vegetable. Maybe it's because, I've been poking around on this planet a little while now, but I am giving up the planning. As I told my friend, I'm going to be 40, I used to plan, but now I don't.
I was not planning on a lot of things last year. As I finally get through all the gardening spots, pulling and yanking on the dead plants, I get to the part of the garden I love most- my raised bed. In the years, when I planned, I had created a sun box, according to the Square Foot Gardening book. I lift the the lid on the sun box and I begin to dig in the dirt. The soil is warm and I spy with my little eye the tops of carrots. Wow! I dig some more.
I find there are not only several carrot tops, but along with a teeny tiny tot of a carrot-one big carrot still in the ground. I laugh out loud. I see the pup'ster lift her head and lay back down on the ground. I wonder what people would've done with this carrot when they knew food was scarce. Would they clean off all the bad parts and eat it?
I smile and throw the carrot onto the compost pile. I think that there must be a great lesson in this. I get down on my knees as if to pray and I put my hands back in the dirt. I pull up a dead plant. I study it only to remember that this was the lettuce I grew last year. I let it go to seed. I let it grow wild. At that moment I know. The tiny little green plants growing in that dirt- is new lettuce. I smile fully. What a great surprise!
I surprised myself. I remember being tired, last year, when I was "putting away" the garden. I let that lettuce grow wild. I let it go to seed and I found and abundance of tiny little lettuce plants this year. They may not all survive, but I know they are stronger than any lettuce seedling I have started indoors.
There's a lesson in this I think. I don't know what the lesson is, though I suspect there may be many.
Welcome Gardening 2010
by Melissa Jeter on Friday, March 19, 2010 at 4:13pm
But after cleaning up after my pup'ster (who is about 12 years old if not older), I pull the dead decaying plants away from the new green shoots that are coming up. It's at this point that I begin to remember last year's garden. "Oh yeah, there was cabbage in this spot," I think as I pull out what is left of the stalk. I think about what I will rotate into that place this year. I ask myself if I grew tomatoes in this other spot, because if I did, I think, I can't grow peppers over here; they are in the same family. And you know how family can be at times; I believe in the crop rotation method. Something else must go there this year.
These thoughts are all that is left of how I used to garden. I used to garden by a strict plan. You see, in January, I'd get out my Square Foot Gardening book and graph paper, and I would draw the garden and decide where I would plant every single vegetable. Maybe it's because, I've been poking around on this planet a little while now, but I am giving up the planning. As I told my friend, I'm going to be 40, I used to plan, but now I don't.
I was not planning on a lot of things last year. As I finally get through all the gardening spots, pulling and yanking on the dead plants, I get to the part of the garden I love most- my raised bed. In the years, when I planned, I had created a sun box, according to the Square Foot Gardening book. I lift the the lid on the sun box and I begin to dig in the dirt. The soil is warm and I spy with my little eye the tops of carrots. Wow! I dig some more.
I find there are not only several carrot tops, but along with a teeny tiny tot of a carrot-one big carrot still in the ground. I laugh out loud. I see the pup'ster lift her head and lay back down on the ground. I wonder what people would've done with this carrot when they knew food was scarce. Would they clean off all the bad parts and eat it?
I smile and throw the carrot onto the compost pile. I think that there must be a great lesson in this. I get down on my knees as if to pray and I put my hands back in the dirt. I pull up a dead plant. I study it only to remember that this was the lettuce I grew last year. I let it go to seed. I let it grow wild. At that moment I know. The tiny little green plants growing in that dirt- is new lettuce. I smile fully. What a great surprise!
I surprised myself. I remember being tired, last year, when I was "putting away" the garden. I let that lettuce grow wild. I let it go to seed and I found and abundance of tiny little lettuce plants this year. They may not all survive, but I know they are stronger than any lettuce seedling I have started indoors.
There's a lesson in this I think. I don't know what the lesson is, though I suspect there may be many.
- My old planning provided me with some foundation on which to grow.
- Seeds sown wildly are much stronger than the ones coddled inside before they go outside on their own.
- Lastly, beneath all that dead stuff, something new is growing.
I left my heart. . . in the garden
Reposted from May 28, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry17.html#body
Have you planted those potatoes I gave you.
One looked at the other, sheepishly he replied, no
Do you need some help?
He looked at him and nodded his head as if his head nodding would nod his partner's head too
Yes.
Does that mean I get to wear my overalls?
Yes, I think it does, he nodded slyly.
I'll bring you some worms.
I was incredibly excited to garden with my friend, but I reminded myself that this was his yard and he should take the lead. Even still, I went home, scooped out some worms from the composter, and looked around for what else I could gift to him.
Oh yeah, these potato bags and these water spikes, two 2-liter bottles for the spikes. . . what else? Oh yeah cilantro seeds and stevia seeds. I bustled around the house, telling the cats to scat as I got my things together. I was very excited to garden with a friend.
In truth, I think that gardening with a friend has always been a great desire. I can't imagine anything more joyous other than experiencing the planting of vegetables with a friend. I had a great time kneeling in the dirt, digging holes, filling those holes with water putting a selected plants in the holes and covering them with dirt.
What else is there to say? Eventually, the rain harvesting cycle will end and we will all be planting again!
one comment
Yay for gardening and friends! Thank you again for all your help! I did some weeding yesterday, so I’m in full gardening mode now! :)
Eugenio (email) - 31 05 11 - 21:01
No trackbacks:
Have you planted those potatoes I gave you.
One looked at the other, sheepishly he replied, no
Do you need some help?
He looked at him and nodded his head as if his head nodding would nod his partner's head too
Yes.
Does that mean I get to wear my overalls?
Yes, I think it does, he nodded slyly.
I'll bring you some worms.
I was incredibly excited to garden with my friend, but I reminded myself that this was his yard and he should take the lead. Even still, I went home, scooped out some worms from the composter, and looked around for what else I could gift to him.
Oh yeah, these potato bags and these water spikes, two 2-liter bottles for the spikes. . . what else? Oh yeah cilantro seeds and stevia seeds. I bustled around the house, telling the cats to scat as I got my things together. I was very excited to garden with a friend.
In truth, I think that gardening with a friend has always been a great desire. I can't imagine anything more joyous other than experiencing the planting of vegetables with a friend. I had a great time kneeling in the dirt, digging holes, filling those holes with water putting a selected plants in the holes and covering them with dirt.
What else is there to say? Eventually, the rain harvesting cycle will end and we will all be planting again!
one comment
Yay for gardening and friends! Thank you again for all your help! I did some weeding yesterday, so I’m in full gardening mode now! :)
Eugenio (email) - 31 05 11 - 21:01
No trackbacks:
What color is your garden?
Reposted from May 20, 2011 http://hipurbanfarmer.myblogsite.com/entry16.html#body
What I love about gardening is that it cuts through a lot of divisions and unites us as people. Gardening unites us, because we all have to eat. The larger questions of environmentalism are deduced to the question of our ability to produce and sustain ourselves.
A little piece of land is an American dream, yet how many really make use of that land. Grass is pretty, but I don't want to eat it. As a young adult newly out of my teen years, my father told me about his people-people who owned land during the depression. They also owned shops and livestock. They had tanneries, were butchers farmers, and seamstresses. They had businesses that originated from the land and fulfilled the need to survive and be self-sustaining.
The simplicity of my resolution to poverty seemed to fall on deaf ears. My college roommates began to see me as someone falling off the deep-end, but I stuck to my dream. One day, I'd have my own homestead, where I would grow food, make clothes and have a horse.
To me, these questions are irrelevant. The question that is life-giving and life sustaining is how can I provide for myself in a way that allows me to hold my head up with dignity instead of a head held low in guilt our shame.
At this time in my life, I can see that I am part of an interdependent web-an ecology where relationships with people, places, the earth, the ground, the dirt, animals, larger institutions like banks etc all have a place in shaping and creating me. I, in turn, also shape these things in relationship, in a social ecology. The question is no longer what color is your garden
What I love about gardening is that it cuts through a lot of divisions and unites us as people. Gardening unites us, because we all have to eat. The larger questions of environmentalism are deduced to the question of our ability to produce and sustain ourselves.
Are you able to feed yourself? Can you really get in there-in the dirt and read what the soil is telling you? Do dandelions in the far corner of the yard tell you that the soil is alkaline? What else might you grow there?
Can you feed yourself?
A little piece of land is an American dream, yet how many really make use of that land. Grass is pretty, but I don't want to eat it. As a young adult newly out of my teen years, my father told me about his people-people who owned land during the depression. They also owned shops and livestock. They had tanneries, were butchers farmers, and seamstresses. They had businesses that originated from the land and fulfilled the need to survive and be self-sustaining.
"The Depression didn't hurt them as hard as most folks. . .they could barter with what they had. They raised livestock they could slaughter and barter for what they needed. . "I dreamed of my father's people, my relatives, generations ago, making a life from the land. I decided then that what people need to live is food not money. In my mind a fundamental social problem of our society had a resolution.
People need food to live. You can't eat paper, I would announce to one of my more conservative college roommates.
The simplicity of my resolution to poverty seemed to fall on deaf ears. My college roommates began to see me as someone falling off the deep-end, but I stuck to my dream. One day, I'd have my own homestead, where I would grow food, make clothes and have a horse.
Yes, I said horse. Though later, I would think hopelessly that if the people in hell wanted ice water and they weren't getting it, how the hell did I think I could have a horse!I feel strongly that to be able to garden, homestead, or farm is to have dignity. There is a certain dignity in being able to take care of yourself, of being self-sufficient.
How green is your garden?
How green are you?
What makes you green?
To me, these questions are irrelevant. The question that is life-giving and life sustaining is how can I provide for myself in a way that allows me to hold my head up with dignity instead of a head held low in guilt our shame.
At this time in my life, I can see that I am part of an interdependent web-an ecology where relationships with people, places, the earth, the ground, the dirt, animals, larger institutions like banks etc all have a place in shaping and creating me. I, in turn, also shape these things in relationship, in a social ecology. The question is no longer what color is your garden
if it ever was. . .The question is how do you sustain the relationships that will product and sustain life, earth, love and dignity.
Information Sources of Inspiration:
- The Hidden Connections: A Science for Sustainable Living by Fritof Capra
- Fritof, Capra's website: http://www.fritjofcapra.net/bibliography.html
- Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry by Mildred Taylor
- Race During the Great Depression Library of Congress http://memory.loc.gov:8081/learn/features/timeline/depwwii/race/race.html
- African-Americans in Virginia after Emancipation http://www.balchfriends.org/bhmap.htm
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