Garden Goodness

Kids and gardens and me just all go together. 
I love my kids.  I love my garden.  It's our favorite place to be.
I think Kole and Joey love it because they are free to eat whatever they want.
Their fingers, mouths, and spots they've touched on their bellies are constantly stained from fresh strawberry juice.  They also pick carrots out of the ground and eat those. 
Which is slightly less cool because it's basically eating a mud stick.  They don't even brush them off.  Yee-uck.
But picking beans off the vines and munching fresh raspberries and snap peas with my two little cubs- makes my life unbeatable. 

The boys light up when I say, "Let's go work in the garden!"  Of course, their idea of working in the garden is inspecting each plant, digging in the dirt for bugs, and eating what they consider to be ripe.  Poor Joey has eaten a lot of white strawberries this year.  But, he does so with a smile, and always says, "MMmm!  Love it!"

When the plants were just perking up. Circa mid to end of July.

 

When the boys checked on the potato plants they stuck their heads clear inside.  Very very thorough.

These gals are still cluckin' around.  And I've eaten a lifetime's share of omelets, egg salad sandwiches, and quiche.

After a hard days work- you gotta cool off in the kiddie pool and then get right back to tractorin'.  According to Joey.

It's a happy wonderful life at Crooked Row Farm.

Ribbon Cutting!

Well.  It's official.  We opened a farm.  Had the ribbon cutting ceremony today.  It was remarkable.  I gotta say *clears throat* some mega scissors and some majestic music and an audience...*clears throat* and some ribbon would have made it really remarkable.  But.  None the less.  Welcome!  (arms spreading)

Yup.  I named 'er.  You kinda have to.  Haven't you ever seen Sarah Plain and Tall?  You have to write your name in the dirt.  I wrote mine in letters from Porters, some barn paint, and wood.  But the essence is the same.  We named it Crooked Row Farm because upon planting our first seedlings this year with the kids... nothing was straight.  Nothing looked clean and pristine like I pictured it in my head (or how I sketched it in the agricultural blue print.).  So.  I embraced it.  And then made this sign.  It's about to blow up Pinterest.  Every one is gonna be naming their backyard. 
In March we got 5 chicks.

They became my little beebees.  They were soft and cuddly.  And poofy!  And would peck little food seeds out of my hand.  I was always checking in on my chickies.  I worried about them and would get out of bed in the middle of the night to make sure they were warm and okay.  They were literally like my newborns.  But heavens to Betsy...have they grown fast.  Just like my real human chickies.

They went through a weird phase...Can you see the resemblance?

They kinda turned into crabby old bitties.  It was always something with them.  I never had their water just the right temperature.  They wanted their meal at 5:30 not 5:15.  Fresh bedding twice a day not once a day.  So.  I built them their own place where I couldn't hear them squawk.

 I know what you're going to say.  It needs a little wreath about the door, huh?  Or a house number.  Or a plaque.  I keep telling The Kenmo, "I want to name the chicken coop."  But the only name I can come up with it Pollo Fundido.  And that's what he orders at Garcia's.  PLUS!  With that name I'd have to stucco this whole thing- add some blue tile... it could get pricey.  And naming a chicken coop seems to be beyond Ken's level of tolerance.  So.  Probably a wreath.  And flowers will go in with warmer weather. Naturally.

Every good running farm has a farm dog.  So...Check!

Dook at doze eyez.  We adopted Oreo four days after we got the baby chicks.  It was an animal overload for the first 36 hours.  But turns out Oreo is about the lowest maintenance dog in existence.  I have to beg him to take a walk with me because all he ever wants to do is snuggle.  Which I love.  I love dogs for their unlimited snuggling capabilities.  The only down side to Oreo's snuggling is sometimes he Steamies me.  A Steamie is when a dog (or Ken) is really close to my face and then breathes hot air breath onto it and a muggy warm layer of thin condensation forms on my cheek.  Worst sensation.  A Steamie.  Do it to somebody.  They'll hate it.
We started seedlings when we were deep deep in the Winter Doldrums  and have slowly been moving them into the Great Outdoors as we've slowly moved out of our Winter Doldrums.  And we plugged about 30 raspberry starts out there. 

 

 It is such a feeling of accomplishment to see growth.  A little plant that will provide food for your family.  It's incredible!  I guess Mother Nature's real name is Patty Poulsen.  And, don't worry, to ensure that feeling of accomplishment and triumph persisted through the Spring, Summer, AND fall- I planted ONE HUNDRED strawberry plants!  A Hundy.  (If those were dollars I'd be rich.)

But they're not dollars they're strawberry plants.  Ha-rumph.  I did get to thinking though.  Even with all the Cool Whip in the world; can I eat all the strawberries 100 plants will produce?  I don't doubt much about myself- but this is indeed doubtful.  So!  I had the greatest idea to sell my surpluses at the local Farmer's Market!  I got into a late night text cahoot with my friend about a booth we'd start with my berries, her honey from her backyard swarm, and maybe some crafts or something.  We were drawing up our business plan and designing our logo to put on our jars of homemade preserves when Ken asked me what I was so excited about.  "I'm going to sell all my extra strawberries at the Farmer's Market!  We can use all the money I earn to go on vacation!"  Ken stared.  I squealed "Isn't that fanTASTIC?" in response to his silence.  He said, "You might have 2 pints of extra strawberries from your strawberry patch.  It's not as big as you think."  PSHZzzzzzzuuuuuuuuuuuueeeeewwwww. <--- That's my dreams deflating.
At any rate.  I'm so proud of my farm.  It's becoming a lifestyle for me that I am so comfortable in.  I love working in the dirt all day.  Tending to the land.  And teaching my boys how to become self-sufficient. I feel like I am on a good and well trod path.  It's idyllic and romantic and makes my heart beat harder.  Or... it could be all that shoveling and tilling that is making my heart beat faster...

I can't dig a hole without kids climbing in!

 

Yup.  Those are mine.
I'm really into Duck Dynasty right now.  And these really are extremely functional.
And East Coast Yuppie Meets Farming For The First Time with a Martha Stewart thing going on.

Come on by anytime you want.  Admission is free.


P.S.  I am considering an egress from Facebook.  If you want to keep up on the blog posts- subscribe!   Right over there on the right-- there's a button. 

Poulsen Plantation

Ken and I moved into a home with 2 acres of land behind it.  It has a very rural peaceful feeling.  I've contemplated calling it "Tara."  I think the name was lost on Ken (and maybe others).
Kole likes to take "hikes" back there.  There's lots for a little boy to love.  Deer, foxes, snakes, horse poop, deer poop, a trough... that in a moment when I couldn't remember the word "trough" I told Kole it was a deer bath.  I didn't say, "It's to hold water for animals."  I said, "It's a deer bath."  And now that's what Kole calls it.  It's at the very end of the acreage so it's normally our destination point.  To The Deer Bath!  Maybe we'll catch 'em scrubbing down before bed.

With Spring here (I said it.  Cats out of the bag!  It's officially Spring.)  Ken and I have been making plans for our new Plantation.  Or maybe Compound.  Sorta depends on which way we go with it.  I thought Poulsen Plantation.  But when I said Plantation I said it all sing-songy and made me think of  "A Dalmatian Plantation!"  Darn every last one of those 101 Dalmatians.  It's all I think of now when I say Poulsen DALMATIAN Plantation.  It just slips in unwanted.
Ken thinks another woman or two couldn't hurt thus making it a Compound... and, honestly, I'd welcome the help.  He might be on to something. 

We have plans for a big garden.  With way more fruits and vegetables than we can eat.  I know this because I went and bought seed two nights ago.  I bought 19 packs.  And yeah, I got the Swiss Chard.  I don't know what Swiss Chard tastes like but it sure sounded classy so I bought some Swiss Chard Seeds.  Try saying that out loud.  It comes out Swiss Chard Sheeds.  I have a tiller reserved for March 30.  We'll dig out the garden spot, stake a fence, and commence!  (Note to self:  Make friends so I have someone to give vegetables to.  Or just buy canning supplies and learn to can.)

Behind our garden spot is a miniature orchard of sorts.  It already has two peach trees, two apple trees, a pear tree, and a raspberry bush.  But, Costco had fruit trees for $11!  Did I say that loudly enough ELEVEN DOLLARS!  I wanted to score a cherry tree and a plum tree.  Yet to make that happen.  I'd like to add a sitting area and some flower beds to the orchard.  Because fruit trees are just so pretty and lush.  Oooo!  Maybe a hammock.  Wouldn't a little bird bath would be just darling.  Some paths.  Kids love paths.  I love paths. Instant game.  

Beyond The Orchard, there's a big red barn (tours given daily).  The barn will work well for shelter when we move the goats or sheep in.  Ken wants to put a little chicken coop back there too.

I'm thinking of adding a greenhouse... and heck... a water feature too.  I know I've lost it.
Doesn't it sound dreamy here?  So country.  A place to sit back and watch the grass grow and sip lemonade while wearing a big hat.



In about 5 years it will be that place.
For now?

*Sigh*
We are past overgrown.  Nature has taken over.  There are trees that have grown through chain link fences. Bushes that are over 20 feet tall.  And all those gorgeous, luscious, shade providing fruit trees... haven't been pruned in, I'd guess, 4 or 5 years.  And are about one third dead.  *defeated sigh*  And the barn... is... well... kinda falling a part. 

And it has some trees growing in/through it. 
But, *clears throat* there's potential. 
Just needs some trimming.

Come on.  Bear with me.  It's Spring!
There's blooms and buds on everything.  It smells fresh and open and new.  It's exciting. 
We've started cutting down and cutting back and cutting out.  And we have what appears to be 6 beaver dams scattered around our yard.

It's a work in progress.  But I've got big dreams for this place. 
And...

 With God as my witness!
*shakes fist doggedly in the air*