Bee's Wing Farm

Fall Planting

2009-10-26T10:45:00.000-07:00

We had gorgeous October weather today for planting next year's garlic and finishing up some other chores around the farm. It's hard to say whether or not we'll get a real Indian Summer, so I thought I'd better take advantage of what might be a last spell of warm enough temperatures for working outside comfortably.

I'm so happy to have three varieties of garlic in the ground. We are doing less than last year as I just can't keep up with the product and I'd really like to have more real estate in the garden next summer for other crops. We planted up the soft-neck which was new to us this year, Kettle River Giant, as well as German Extra Hardy and Korean Red.

Everything is pretty much picked now and out of the ground. Winter Rye is beginning to come up in some of the boxes and now we've sown some more. Others are just getting more compost and then hay on top. I'm already thinking about what I'd like to plant in the empty boxes in the spring and early summer. Thinking about this over the winter is great therapy.

Back to the kitchen! We have a big sink full of our very last beets of the year. Even I am tiring of this vegetable which is one of my favorites. Bee's Wing Farm had a year of beets for 2009. I also pulled some stray leeks and the remainder of the celeriac; there are definitely some yummy soups in our near future.

There was a small patch of baby fennel which I seeded mid-summer just to use up a package of seed. It didn't really have time to grow, but I can still use it for seasoning. Fennel reminds me so much of Italy -- the way it flavors everything around it. I remember the figs and lettuce in Tuscany tasting of wild fennel.

Here's to autumn and all the harvest -- and to planning next year's garden over a cozy winter.

First Snow of the Season

2009-10-16T07:52:00.000-07:00

We had a lovely first snowfall this morning, just enough to remind us how much we're still hoping for an Indian Summer. We really need some warm days to finish up a few farm and garden chores before the ground freezes. There's still plenty to do before the real cold arrives, and it's been a busy fall.

Out in the garden, raised bed repairs have taken place and we've sewn winter rye in the old potato boxes. Next spring we'll give the potatoes and pumpkins a brand new location while we give the cover crops a chance to do their thing.

I like the idea of growing our own composting "hay" for mulching the beds throughout the seasons. We've used the garlic leaves quite successfully for creating weed barriers, but the grasses do a lot more for the soil. Considering my last blog post was all about weeds, however, we're taking easy on the winter rye and seeing how it performs before we go too wild with this idea.

Here in New England, talk at this time of year is all about wood, heat and snow tires. Thanks to the help of friends and our strapping fourteen-year old boy, our wood is mostly stacked. We use the screened porch as a wood shed in the winter months and then have extra cords along the back wall of a carriage house. There are still some four footers that need cutting, but we're nearly there. A few nice weekends would go a long way.

Yesterday I picked another big batch of beets, but there are still more to harvest. I'd also like to get more thyme and sage picked to dry along with our rosemary that we grow indoors year-round. Last week I picked a bushel of cilantro just before the frost and made a coriander pesto with cauliflower and lots of garlic. We'll use this for Indian dishes throughout the winter. Harvest is definitely an intense time and I'm realizing I do much better with small batches rather than having hundreds and hundreds of beets and potatoes to deal with all at once, etc.

Or thousands. All that garlic curing out in the barn still needs to be bundled and labeled, plus we need to sort out the largest bulbs and figure out how much we want to plant for next year. I think rather than focusing on marketing the garlic, we may scale back and diversify our own kitchen gardening to have more of a variety for next year. We'll still do plenty of garlic, but right now I can't deal with the volume and still enjoy the whole thing.

This reminds me, we've still got a box of celeriac to pull! I'd like to get that in before the greens are too bitter for soup stock. Tonight we have two chickens to roast so we can get a few soups going over the weekend; it's that kind of weather. Indian Summer or no, this is a beautiful place to live with so much variety in the climate. Come February we'll be ready for palm trees, but right now I'm glad to feel the fall and winter weather coming our way.

Weeds

2009-08-26T13:07:00.001-07:00

We awoke to lovely crisp cool weather this morning, the perfect day to get some much-needed weeding out of the way. I have never seen anything like the crabgrass this year -- it seems to grow overnight. Fortunately it's not difficult to pull as the ground is so wet; I just wish we put more down more mulch when we harvested the garlic last month.

Clearly all the grasses love the extremely wet summer we've had this year. For one reason or another we haven't been on top of the mowing between the vegetable boxes, and the top-seeding is definitely a factor along with all the rain. I am looking into other sources of much, including Mainely Mulch, a high temperature heat processed, dehydrated, sterilized straw and hay mulch product that my friend Anne told me about. It's expensive, but I think I'll give a couple of bales a try.

Grass is not our only invader. We have a lot of volunteer Morning Glories and I have let them go wild even at the cost of a few onions here and there. They loved those leek stalks and the vines really do take over, but I simply can't pull a Morning Glory. Lots of Sunflowers came up here and there, both in the vegetable beds and the perennial garden -- and some Cosmos, too. I let those grow in place even though some of those beds are really very crowded now. Still, I love the idea of the the wind and small animals helping to inform the garden.

Our domesticated small animals are giving us a lot of trouble. The older dog, Willow, got into a porcupine and we pulled twenty-six quills in the middle of the night, and a few days later the small dog found a skunk under our screened porch. There are lots of creatures looking for homes in or near our house and barn, and the dogs are crazed with trying to catch them. I imagine it's mostly moles or voles (hoping for the former rather than the latter). Really we just wish the dogs would stop this incessant hunting. And there's no room for skunks or porcupines here. Please!

Days like this one remind me that the best really is yet to come. Here in New England the cooler sunshine-filled days and clear blue sky make fall a wonderful time to work outdoors. And no bugs! I'm looking forward to spending more time in the garden, at least between rain showers. It looks as though another storm is coming in right now. We are experts at opening and closing all the window's at a moment's notice, so I think I'd better go tend to that before it's too late.

Happy weeding!

Harvest Time

2009-07-16T12:55:00.000-07:00

It seems early this year, but we've had such a wet summer that the garlic is really ready to come out of the ground. The trick is to leave it in long enough to achieve a good-sized bulb but to harvest soon enough so that it doesn't begin to break down. Each leaf represents a wrapper around the bulb; this is what helps the garlic keep throughout the winter.

We've harvested three varieties now, and they are all looking good. We switched the cleaning process this year to the front-end, so bundling and labeling should be a snap when the time comes. Our hottest garlic last year was the Korean Red, and today was the day for getting that into the barn for curing. This garlic has a smaller bulb with a snazzy wrapper, and it's still my favorite.

The softneck experiment recommended by our friends at Rosebud seems to have gone very well. The cloves are large and well-formed. This was the first variety to harvest and we're glad we got it out of the ground when we did. We'll likely save back quite a bit of this Kettle River to replant for next year as it seemed to fare well even in all the rain.

Next up is the German White. There are four long 16' x 4' beds of this old stand-by, and we're hoping to get all the garlic in over the next few days. Rain is in the air once again, and it will be good to have everything safe and sound out in the barn.

Calling All Chefs….

2009-06-08T14:19:00.000-07:00

Green garlic is vogue these days in culinary circles, perhaps due in part to a New York Times article published last year. Most of the garlic at Bee’s Wing Farm is grown for the garlic bulbs we’ll harvest this summer, but I couldn’t resist doing a little thinning and getting on the green garlic bandwagon.

Quite simply, green garlic is just garlic that hasn’t begun to form cloves yet. Garlic is such a beautiful plant, and green garlic is harvested when the dark green leaves are still tender. The whole plant can be used for cooking; the flavor is milder than mature garlic and stronger than green onions.

We are using green garlic stalks much like the giant scallions they resemble. The pale white bulb is trimmed at the root end and chopped up along with the tender part of the green leaves. The fresh taste just out of the garden is delicious. I think we’ll try braising as well.

Here in New Hampshire, the hardneck garlic hasn’t even begun to think about scaping yet, but that will be our next adventure. Garlic scapes taste remarkably like green beans, but they are beautifully-spiraled and make for an elegant addition to any plate.

Luna Moth

2009-06-05T07:59:00.000-07:00

We found this beautiful luna moth (Actias Luna) billowing on the end of a fern. It must have just been born; it's wings were soft and crumpled. The moth sheds its skin five times before reaching adulthood. I love the beautiful color of these creatures who only fly at night and live for just about a week.

The female luna moth lays eggs the size of the head of a pin on the leaves of trees. They especially like walnut leaves, and they lay their eggs in small groups. Ten days later the caterpillars eat their way out of the eggs. The newborns eat leaves constantly until they split their skin and then they stop and make a cocoon by secreting a sticky thread. They wind the thread round and round, wrapping themselves up with a leaf pulled around the outside. After a week the moth emerges from its cocoon.

Along with luna moths, dragonflies have also begun to arrive -- true signs of summer. I had one land on my shoulder yesterday and it stayed for a long time. My grandmother always called them darning needles. We love their glittering wings and especially appreciate the way they gobble up mosquitoes. A gardener's friend!

Memorial Day Gardening

2009-05-26T10:53:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day is the traditional "safe" planting date for our gardening zone, though serious gardeners have been at it for weeks. We recognize one another out in the world by our bug bites and dirty fingernails -- the early planters who just can't wait. Our season here is so short as it is, and it seems like the end of May is a ridiculously long time to wait. I've covered and uncovered the tiny string bean plants so many times I have a little song I sing while I'm doing it.

But sure enough, just when it seems that Yankees are way too up-tight about such things, there was another frost warning last night. And we actually have our wood stove going today! I had just put out the Meyer lemon and the a lime tree from the house, but thankfully there was no frost after all. So now we are officially home-free and hopefully the soil temperatures are going to climb now and we can really start to enjoy the garden.

It's going to be a banner fruit year. The apple and pear trees are doing beautifully; we lost only one apple tree to the ice storm, and one of the peaches is pretty severely wounded. But all in all our mini-orchard is in great shape. Twelve new Asian pear trees are planted in a new field. We're waiting to see how they do before we plant another dozen.

Meanwhile, the garden is beginning it's stunning display (click on the pictures for a closer look). The lilacs and viburnum are filling the air with a heavenly perfume and the Asian lilacs are soon to follow. The Iris are beginning to unfold -- the first ones are dark bearded Iris and now we have some Siberian flags in bloom. We didn't have a lot of Columbine this year but the Bleeding Hearts are very prolific. Peonies and Clematis are on the way.

Our very first blooms each year are volunteer Cornflowers. They have a beautiful blue flower and they seed themselves everywhere. I leave some in the garden until they've bloomed and then pull them out as they really are a farmer's nemesis. They love the stone pathways in the garden and they set down a deep taproot that if left too long is very difficult to pull. But as invasives go, this one is a beauty.

The vegetable boxes are all full. We've nibbled the first broccoli and picked parsley, and it looks as though the French Breakfast and Spanish Black radishes will be ready soon. I hope so, as I need those boxes to plant up another batch of onions. Most of our boxes are filled with garlic and all four varieties are doing beautifully.

I have a feeling harvest is going to come early this year, but we always say that. Back out to the garden, but I wanted to be sure to get some pictures of the beginning days as it will be fun to compare the wild jumble yet to come. Foxgloves, Hollyhock, Delphinium, oh my!

April Heat Wave

2009-05-01T04:33:00.000-07:00

Unseasonably warm weather has made for some excellent early gardening this year. The garlic beds are flourishing with three hardneck varieties -- Korean Red, German Extra Hardy and Dublin Heirloom – as well as a soft neck, Kettle River Giant. We have our eye on this last variety recommended by our friends at Rosebud. The Kettle River seems to be taking beautifully to this climate and we’re all very excited to see what kind of head this “giant” produces.

All the raised beds are planted up with organic composted manure and then mulched heavily over the winter, so it’s not necessary to do much besides pull off the straw and do a little weeding here and there. We’re in the process of side dressing everything with King Neptune’s organic fish emulsion, a little something to keep the worms happy. Unfortunately the dogs also seem to love this dead fish cocktail and I have to keep chasing them away from the mixing bucket.

Aside from the garlic, our own kitchen garden is coming together. Before long we’ll have two kinds of radishes: black Spanish and French Breakfast, and hopefully the first round of beet seed will germinate soon. Cabbages and broccoli are in and the bean tripods are set up for yellow and purple string beans this summer, as well as a variety of onions and leeks, etc.

Last year we experimented with a second crop after the garlic harvest in late July. We grew organic potatoes, basil, cilantro, tomatoes and lots of beets. This year we plan to do the same – these second crops are then harvested in October prior to replanting the beds with next season’s garlic. We did well last winter with storing onions and potatoes well into January, and the garlic lasted until mid-April even without a real root cellar of any kind.

Even with our own garden, we still have a farm share at Tracie’s Community Farm. We like to support the CSA movement in our area, and there’s nothing like having a basket of fresh vegetables and a dozen eggs brought to our front porch on Friday afternoons. They provide a lot of beautiful greens, so we skip growing those and this helps keep the deer away from our own beds. They’ll also send some local honey and jam, and a few loaves of bread early in the season while waiting for the farm to get going. Last year my favorite basket items were the tomatillos – beautiful little green fruits in lovely wrappers.

Here’s to spring, although we appear to have skipped that season entirely in Southern New Hampshire. We seem to be right at summer, though surprise snowstorms in April and May are not unheard of here. One of the wonderful things about the garlic is that it can really tolerate the extremes we have in New England. But meanwhile I’d better get those sheets ready for covering the other vegetable beds if need be. And a plane ticket for Italy next February.

Storm Cleanup

2009-04-29T08:04:00.000-07:00

This spring there has been a lot of cleanup from the ice storm last December. Once the snow melted, we could see the extent of the damage beyond the immediate trees and branches we had to remove just to get out after the storm. The whole region started to look like a giant beaver lodge as piles of sticks and branches appeared on the sides of the roads. Everywhere there are workers taking down trees and chipping up debris.

The woods are full of fallen branches and trees; it will be interesting to see how the wildlife flourishes this year as it will be more difficult for humans to access the forest for a long while to come. It was a cold hard winter, and all the animals are so happy to be outside now with the sun on our backs. Best of all, we've really been getting one over on the black flies who are only now just starting to arrive. Never mind that the mosquitoes will be right behind them, we're happy for a change of seasons.

Farm Phone

2009-03-10T06:37:00.000-07:00

We're in the midst of trying to get this old phone working. I love the idea of the rotary dial and a phone that hearkens back to other times. Described as a "next generation" wall phone, this model was manufactured in Brockville, Ontario, a small city located on the St. Lawrence river between Ottawa and Kingston. Brockville was the home of Phillips Electrical Works and later the home of GTE Automatic Electric (formerly Strowger/AE).

Jeff works for Alcatel-Lucent and has been "merged" many times just as the Canadian manufacturer of this AE-90 phone was transformed from Stowger to Automatic Electric, then into GTE, Microtel, and Nortel, which in partnership with AT&T, is now a sort of step-cousin to Aunt Lucy (Lucent) in Ma Bell's extended family. An old Canadian phone definitely seems like the right one for us.

A lot of Bee's Wing Farm's original seed garlic came from Ontario. We wanted hearty stock. And now we have a hearty Canadian phone. At least while all this snow is on the ground we can talk about gardening since there's not much else to do outside besides make paths and rake off the roof. By the time spring is here, we're hoping this old phone will be ringing off the hook. That will mean we got it to work.

Seed Savers

2009-01-28T09:15:00.000-08:00

What a long winter season we are having here in New Hampshire. And it's only January! Today as a new foot or so of snow falls there is only one thing to do: think about the spring garden.

The Northeast Organic Farmer's Association recently sent out news of the Seed Celebration and Exchange to be held in Gilsum, NH, on February 7th. Gardeners will gather to share seeds and learn about local food and farm initiatives. Gilsum is also home to the annual Rock Swap and Mineral Show held each June; this must be a town of people who love to trade.

I've only recently become a seed saver. It started with the Wisteria at what is now the Blue Trout Grill, a restaurant in Keene which used to be 176 Main. A beautiful sheltered courtyard is home to a magnificent Wisteria that blooms each year with great enthusiasm. Be sure to make a lunch reservation for a table there in June.

When I saw the vine covered with elegant velvety pods this fall, I knew I had to have some. The new owners of the restaurant were very nice and they let me take some home. Later the pods opened to reveal tidy rows of large round seeds. They are beautiful themselves; I have them in a jar over my desk. My Wisteria-covered pergola here at Bee's Wing Farm has yet to bloom, and I suspect it's just too cold here at the base of Mt. Monadnock. But that jar of Blue Trout Wisteria Seeds gives me hope.

Cindy Hendrick is an illustrator who lives in nearby Alstead, NH, and she has created wonderful animal pictures depicting all sorts of celebrations. One of my favorites is the Seed Savers Society. In this painting a group of bears in their garden hats are getting together to swap seeds in the spring. Perhaps they are Gilsum bears. Her web site has a complete collection of magical animal world cards and prints with endearing captions.

I've always saved Morning Glory seeds; they are so easy to soak, nick and plant when the time comes. Those Grandpa Ott blues are my favorite, but these days there are so many lovely varieties (don't miss the purple framed with white, or the deep red, but these are never as prolific as the Grandpa Otts).

A jar of Black Hollyhock seeds also graces my shelf, and perhaps this spring I'll do up some trays of those. They were magnificent in bloom last year. The ones that tipped the seed-saving scales for me are the Baptisia pods -- gorgeous black rattles containing small seeds that I picked this fall by the side of the road. They, too, are now in a jar and I look forward to introducing that plant to our perennial beds this summer.

And so another Seed Saver has joined the gardening world. Here's to the great therapy of categorizing, jarring and labeling the seeds in the wintertime while we wait to get our hands into the earth again. And to swapping with friends and neighbors. As I look outside now it's hard to imagine that the gardens will be green in another few months. Meanwhile, I'm off to find a drawing pad to do some planning for the flower beds.

Yes, We Did!

2009-01-20T06:40:00.000-08:00

My friend, Catherine, from our book group, Cupcake Chronicles, sent this image to celebrate this amazing day in history. We have waited for this moment in time when we can be so proud of our country. For many, it's our first experience of authentic patriotism. At last we are able to hold up our heads as Americans. We have spoken; democracy is indeed a reality.

Our son is home from school today. I'm so glad as we can listen to the inauguration together and hear our new President take the Oath of Office. Around the country, people will be doing the same: celebrating hope and breathing a huge sigh of relief that sanity is being restored to our government. We know it will be no easy task and that there will be difficulties along the way, but this time we are all in it together.

Gardens are so much about hope. We plant seeds and nurture them in partnership with the sun, rain and soil. Plants cannot be rushed; we wait for their ripening and then at harvest we know it is all something miraculous that has taken place. At Christmastime, Ko's teacher, Anne, sent this beautiful piece from the Gnostic Gospels:

Those who sow in the hard winter reap in glorious summer.
This world is a harsh winter; summer is the eternal realm.
Let us sow now, in this wintry world,
So we may harvest in the splendid summer.

Today, even in the midst of January snows, we celebrate a kind of splendid summer with the inauguration of a new leader. And we celebrate the opportunity for service, for toiling in the garden for the future harvests yet to come.

Unlikely Farm Dogs

2009-01-05T18:45:00.000-08:00

When our old Lab died, it took us a few years to turn our thoughts to the possibility of another dog. Satcha-Bella had seen us through so many transitions in our lives. We missed having a dog, but our son had allergies and we needed to think long and hard about what sort of companion to bring into our family.

Liberated from the humane society, Satcha had her puppyhood at Brush Farm, in Dublin, NH, where we lived in an apartment that had once been the old kitchen and goat sheds on my grandmother’s homestead. From there we married and then moved to Vermont. Satcha loved to run down the steep bank behind our house which was perched on the steepest street in Brattleboro. She was unphased by the constant renovations, the weekend construction projects and tension of getting an old Victorian house into some sort of shape for living.

When we brought a baby home from the airport (our son, Ko, was adopted from Korea), she greeted him with immediate maternal devotion. We became a family of four. It wasn’t long after this that we moved across the country out to the Bay Area. We would take Satcha to marinas and run her behind grocery stores on Alameda, where we lived. She marched proudly beside the baby carriage and loved the Eucalyptus trees.

We missed our family though, and moved back to the East Coast via Arizona, where we did a stint in Prescott. There, too, our beloved dog was calm and steady, just happy to be with us whether in the mountains, at the ocean, even in the desert. Back in Vermont we had a few years at our old house (finally completed), and she was back to running down that steep bank and up again. Eventually we completed our circle of moves and returned to Dublin, NH, where we lived in a cottage for a couple of years on Snow Hill before finding our house and land at the end of a lane, the place that would become Bee’s Wing Farm.

When we found this place, we knew the moving was over and that we would do anything to stay put. It’s been eight years now, and our roots are expanding. First there was garlic at Bee's Wing Farm and now we are looking toward a new orchard of Asian pears. We feel so fortunate to have this land in our care: sixteen acres at the base of Mt. Monadnock.

A farm needs a dog, though, and so a couple of years ago we set out to find the right one. There are lots of hypo-allergenic breeds out there, but somehow we couldn’t quite picture ourselves with one of those fancy little dogs. My husband had grown up with an Irish Wolfhound and a pet fox named Tinkerbell, and we wanted at least a medium-sized dog in this land of coyotes and fishers.

Allergy research led us to a soft-coated Wheaton Terrier. We contacted a breeder in Virginia, sent an absurd amount of money and then rendezvoused with her in Saratoga Springs, NY, to pick up our puppy. It was August, and by this time the dog was six months old. We named her Willow and set to loving her, but something was clearly wrong.

We had thought an older puppy would be fine (would it save us some piddling time and chewing up of shoes?), but in that six months this puppy must have been in a difficult situation. She was so afraid of men, particularly ones carrying an implement such as a rake or a shovel, and if some one would so much as cross their legs she’d go tearing away. She didn’t want to be petted or touched; she was afraid of everything. Later when I went to call the breeder to discuss all the problems we were having, both phones had been disconnected and the internet address didn’t work anymore.

How we worked with Willow to try to make her love us. We found our very own dog whisperer who came and helped build trust, we fed her special treats and lured her to our sides with kind words and gentle pats. She liked her crate, so we tried having one near us in the living room and another upstairs by our bed. We discovered the things we were trying to get her to do that she just doesn’t like (riding in the car, for example), and finally we put in a radio fence so she could run freely outdoors. This proved to be great therapy for her. A hunter, Willow makes it her job to keep tabs on all the moles, voles, squirrels and chipmunks out there. She knows them all and just where they are at any given moment.

Still, though, Willow remained skittish and we were worried. About that time a dear friend, Becky, called to tell us about her new puppy, Scout. The minute she started describing the loving nature of this little dog, I knew this was the right thing for Willow and for all of us. It turned out that another puppy was available, and so it was that Zoe, a tiny Bichon-Frise, came into our lives. This is another hypo-allergenic breed (hair, not fur, and no skin oil problems). We call her Medicine Dog.

Zoe was born in a bookshop in Yellow Springs, Ohio. It turned out that I had a cousin moving back to the East Coast who agreed to drive through Yellow Springs, pick up the puppy and bring her to us. We met him at a Barnes & Noble for a book store to book store exchange. Unfortunately no independent book store was available, but still Zoe became our second dog. She is joy, joy, joy, and has changed Willow’s life, teaching her how to be a dog and to have a happy childhood despite early trauma.

The two dogs make quite a team out on the farmstead, chasing and rolling, dashing around the house and making a mess of the perennial beds. Willow is still somewhat of an Eeyore and she still shies away from men, especially strangers, but she is happier all the time. Both dogs sleep at the bottom of our bed, and in the morning, Willow can be found sprawled on her back, aching to have her belly rubbed. She comes when called (sometimes), likes to be patted and is finding her humans to be trustworthy after all.

As usual, we are learning a lot from our animal friends. Willow is teaching us about waiting. She often responds just when the human has given up; she’s on her own timeframe and needs a lot of trust in place before she’ll do anything. She’s recalcitrant even when she knows it doesn’t serve her. She’s teaching me to look at ways I am rigid, and to examine the ways I protect myself even when there is no real benefit to that. Willow is very good at certain things and she’s happiest when doing those; I can learn a lot from that, too. Maybe it’s time to stop barking up the wrong trees.

Zoe is unwavering in her joyful approach to life and she isn’t particular. She loves every one and everything. Her pleasure is absolute. As soon as you begin patting her, she rolls her head back and closes her eyes. She knows how to receive love as well as how to give it. She senses when companionship is needed and she curls up in just the right way in the curl of a knee or elbow. When I’m writing, she likes to rest quietly nearby. Edith Wharton has a wonderful quote about dogs: “a little heartbeat at my feet.” Zoe reminds me to take pleasure in the world around me and to remember to receive, too.

And so we have our farm dogs after all. Certainly the mole and vole populations recognize their value, and if there are giant holes dug in the garden I figure I need to divide the iris and lilies more often anyway. But mostly it is the companionship I love. In the mornings when I go out to the garden, I have two dogs trotting along beside me. They are impartial in their assessment of whether I’m getting anything done or not. Really they are just happy to be outdoors and I suppose that is a valuable lesson as well.

Baptisia

2009-01-04T05:44:00.000-08:00

Baptisia is one of those plants that really captures a gardener’s heart. I first fell in love with False Indigo when we saw it in full bloom throughout a formal garden where our child’s school celebrates closing day ceremonies each year. Since that time, every time I see this plant I’m reminded that I need to make substantial room for Baptisia in our perennial gardens.

Is it the pea-like qualities, the silvery foliage, or the spiky architectural form? It’s hard to say -- Baptisia is just such a great plant in every way. It gives height to the garden and the gorgeous blossoms are a welcome early bloomer here in the Northeast. And then long after that the plant still stands out in fall and winter with the most amazing black seed pods. I am smitten with these pods and can't get enough of their form.

I have not done much in the way of seed saving as I usually just get packets when the time comes. But now I am developing a small collection. Wisteria from the sheltered courtyard of a favorite restaurant -- those velvety green pods are wonders in themselves, and then the roundness of the seeds is so compelling. I have a jar of seeds from a deep black Foxglove that graces our garden, and then I always have a jar or two of Morning Glory seeds year-to-year.

Now I've added a Baptisia seeds to that collection sitting on a shelf above my desk. I harvested some pods and am going to start up some Baptisia seedlings this spring while I figure out where to fit a substantial grouping of these large bushy plants into our landscape. It needs just the right place. Above is a photograph of those lovely pods. They make a remarkable shaking sound and we have all had fun making music with them.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas........

2008-12-23T06:57:00.000-08:00

Light! Power has been restored to the Monadnock Region just in time for the holidays. It was a long twelve days for all, with snowfall after snowfall following the ice storm that covered the mountain and surroundings towns with a thick glaze of ice.

The name Monadnock comes from an Abenaki word which roughly translates as "one who stands alone." Geologists use the term for any inselberg or isolated rocky outcrop in the middle of otherwise level land. My great-great-grandfather Raphael Pumpelly was a geologist who made his home at the base of Mt. Monadnock in Dublin; the Pumpelly Trail is my favorite way up that isolated mountain.

These photographs are taken from Pompelia, the Pumpelly home which burned to the ground in November of 1979. I still love to go up there and enjoy the beautiful views of Monadnock and Dublin Lake (below).

Our little farm is tucked away on the other side of the mountain, a parcel that was never a part of family land. I like the idea of a fresh start. So many houses and farms are being sold and split up these days. We want to be on the building up side of things -- creating a new place that hopefully will pass down through generations to come.

The Devastating Beauty of Ice

2008-12-16T10:36:00.000-08:00

Once in a while we're reminded of our fragile relationship with the earth. Climate can be such a force, a power that causes us to pause and consider our own personal geography. A recent ice storm struck awe into our small communities in Southern New Hampshire as we watched our landscapes change overnight.

Last Thursday night we lay in the dark for hours, listening first to the tinkling of freezing rain on the roof. That sound of tiny pellets of ice is soothing, somehow, and it's put us to sleep on many a cold winter's night. We heat with wood so our house is nearly always snug and warm. I love that deep quiet that accompanies a power outage.

But later, there began a loud cracking of trees falling from the weight of ice on their limbs. It sounded like ammunition in the woods. The reports were so loud and sudden, like lightning strikes. Some trees broke off only at their tops, but others cracked and fell completely, taking long moments to drop. This went on for hours, the woods crying out.

It was amazing to see big mighty trees bend under the weight of their ice-coated branches. Even the oaks dropped large old limbs; other trees uprooted completely and fell. At one point I stood on the front porch and watched four or five trees drop in quick succession. It was like a war zone.

The birches go first. They are so delicate, more like something from the garden than the forest. For fruit trees, we have lost only one apple and a peach so far. And a Hawthorne tree split right down the middle. This fall we had the first berries from that little tree and now I wish I could remember them better. The ice was just too much for it.

When the sun came out, it was as though the whole world had been turned to ice. Suddenly the landscape was devastatingly beautiful. There was so much damage, and yet it was breathtaking to see each blade of grass, each leaf, cone, twig, branch and tree completely covered in ice and sparkling in the sunlight.

We wandered out to the far-off sound of chain saws as people began to cut their way out to the main roads. Now on day five, generators have joined that chorus. A lot of clean-up has taken place in short order. Neighbors have come together and roads are open. It's so strange to drive to a nearby town at a lower elevation where there is no ice damage and no loss of power.

Living in a cold climate requires certain skills, and I suppose it's easy sometimes to take them for granted. We all wish we had more water on hand, for instance, but we're grateful for a creek still running so we can haul buckets of water for makeshift plumbing. Our freezers are thawing and we're all living off what we put up this summer and fall. Most of us lost our berries, but there's always next year.

All in all, there's a side to this kind of natural disaster that many of us find very appealing. It's that back to basics mentality, the need to just live in the moment and take care of day-to-day needs like heat, water and light. It gets dark so early, but those candle-lit nights playing cards and board games are wonderful. And of course the time to think about next year's gardens.

Northern Spies

2008-11-16T10:55:00.000-08:00

It’s mid-November now, and the last cider pressing of the season has taken place here at Bee’s Wing Farm. Our own apples are long gone, but this weekend a friend brought over two adorable children and several boxes and bags of apples picked from their trees in nearby Peterborough. It is always amazing how many apples go into a single gallon of cider.

My friend Anne introduced me to an apple variety I was not familiar with: Northern Spy. These apples are rumored to be named for an Underground Railroad operator, but the dates don't line up and Northern Spy seems much too obvious for a code-name. Since they are also called Northern Pie Apples, I think the name may have slurred into Northern Spy over time. However it went, I love the idea of an apple name that recalls the history of slaves being guided to their freedom through New England and on into Canada.

These are late-season apples (thus the November pressing), dating from New York State back to 1800 (see what I mean about the dates?). They are native to the Northern East Coast and parts of Michigan and are slow to come into bearing; they take as long as a decade to bear fruit unless grafted to a different rootstock. Northern Spy apples fell out of favor for this and other reasons, including their coloration and difficulties in transport (back to the Underground Railway connection!). All of this, of course, makes me want to plant up some Northern Spies immediately, so that we will have those red and yellow skinned streaked apples for generations to follow.

I love all the little synchronicities in life. The very evening of the day Anne was here pressing her Northern Spies, I started a new book from the shelf by my bedside: Five Thousand Days Like This One, by Jane Brox who is from the Merrimack Valley, not so far from here. There are the Northern Spies and the whole apple world right in the first paragraph of this extraordinary poetic novel about New England farm life and mill working:

“…..and the apples reached no more than half their best size. The worst of them – ones marked up with codling moth scars or scab – weren’t even worth hauling to the apple cellar. Strange to see bushel after bushel of Cortland, McInitosh, and Northern Spies in heaps under the trees. Even stranger was the way the sweet smell of those fermenting apples drew the deer out of the woods – more deer than any one in living memory had ever seen here. They’d forage through the fallen leaves under the bare crowns of the trees, coming more and more frequently as the apples frosted and thawed by turns down the shortening autumn days until they froze through at last and were covered with an early December snow.”

And so I’m on an apple theme now, and a Jane Brox craze. I love to stumble on an author who connects me in a way that makes me want to read everything they have written (in her case, much about American farms and New England life). I have also pulled Michael Pollan’s The Botany of Desire from its place on the shelf so I can read his section on apples all over again. That Johnny Appleseed.

Our own orchard is small and yet we can still barely keep up with the volume. We bought this farmstead in 2001 and have felt the land unfolding for us at every turn. At first there were nearly a dozen fruit and nut trees and we were so happy to make their acquaintance. Then a year or so later we cleared a large driving circle and found buried in those woods another small group of apple trees tangled in new pines and overgrowth. We don’t really know what different kinds of apples these are, but learning about the Northern Spies makes me want to find out. I know there are some Macs, and there is a wonderful wine-dark apple that is my favorite.

Pruning has become a regular farm chore here, rather than an art or science -- in other words it is finally demystified. We have learned that if we don't prune our trees at the perfect time in the spring it's still good to just get that done one way or the other. My husband Jeff has taken on the pruning and the trees respond so heartily to this tending. This fall he took out quite a bit of growth on some old trees and even if we should miss a season of apples we are happy to be caring for these trees in a long-term way.

This of course makes us great candidates for planting up a small orchard of our own Northern Spies, even if they may take a decade to fruit. I must be growing older to be so delighted now in this sort of long-term botanical relationship. Years ago I remember thinking how long a wait it was for those favorite biennials to flower again, and now those Foxglove and Hollyhock just seem to alternate in some easy way and I no longer care whether it's an on year or not so long as something is in bloom.

Yes, we'd better get a new little orchard in somewhere, and then a decade or a generation from now there will be cider-making on some gorgeous November afternoon just like this one and people will sipping the cider of Northern Spies and wondering how an apple got a name like that. Thank you, Anne, for this discovery, and for one last pressing in the season.

Last Batch to Market!

2008-10-15T08:07:00.000-07:00

Today we delivered the last of our retail garlic to a local health food store and sent several small boxes out by mail. We wish we had more stock available. Right now we're working out how to expand the farm in a way that makes sense. This was a wonderful first harvest and we want to thank every one for their support.

Meanwhile we have just finished planting next year's crop. For 2009 we'll have the four varieties we carried this year (German Extra Hearty, Korean Red, Music and Dublin Heirloom). We are adding just one new variety: Kettle River. This is a softneck artichoke variety that can grow very large but is not as hot as our hardnecks.

For those of you who would like to plant, this is the perfect time, at least here in New England. Break open the garlic heads carefully (this is called popping) and plant the individual cloves tip-up in about three inches of soil. There's nothing like harvesting your very own garlic in the middle of summer.

Our little farm is slowly being put to bed for winter. We've been making lots of cider (a banner year for apples) and harvesting crops that went in after the garlic. We still have a lot of cilantro and basil, as well as plum tomatoes. Although we have lots of long boxes for our raised beds now, I still love these old 4' x 4' ones. I don't grow many dahlias because of the fuss, but these ones make me want to do it all over again next year.

Cost-Sharing

2008-10-08T13:24:00.000-07:00

When we started Bee's Wing Farm, we decided to pursue USDA organic certification for a couple of different reasons: we wanted to be a part of the New Hampshire's organic farm community, and we felt it would be meaningful for garlic purchasers and consumers to have the USDA's seal of approval on our organic produce.

People have asked about the difficulty of the process and the expense involved. We found this to be a very straight-forward and reasonable process. I worked with Agricultural Inspector Vickie Smith of the New Hampshire Department of Agriculture, Markets & Food and she was extremely helpful at every step of the way. As a bonus, we just received a check from the State of New Hampshire reimbursing us for 75% of the cost of organic certification and inspection this year.

New Hampshire has just 95 certified organic crop farms in 2008, including maple producers, and we're proud to have our small operation counted among these farmers who are committed to growing organic produce. This was Bee's Wing Farm's first year marketing garlic, and we're glad we decided to go USDA organic. And the little check is nice, too!

Let Them Eat Soup

2008-10-03T06:39:00.000-07:00

We planted beets following the garlic harvest this summer, and they have done very well. This is such a beautiful plant -- the variegation in those leaves is so compelling, and then the deep red color against the green is stunning. Beets are so easy to grow, and of course the greens are delicious, too.

I pick up organic beet seed here and there, often popping in seeds when something else has come out of the ground. We've experimented with a lot of different varieties over the years and they all perform beautifully here in New England. The timing of this little crop rotation was perfect as we need those long raised beds back now for planting up next year's garlic.

What to do with all those beets, though, once we've loaded up family and friends and no longer swoon at the thought of roasted beets, grated beet salad and the like? Make soup, of course (though frankly I'm not sure how many more jars of soup our freezers can take). Undaunted, however, I have started a new batch of dark stock on this chilly October morning. This will make an excellent base for a beet soup.

Since we have quantities of French Shallots, I'll use some of those up, too. Here is a recipe for soup-makers out there:

Sauté shallots (or onions, garlic, whatever you have) in olive oil until soft then stir in chopped beets. Cook for a few minutes or so then add in the dark stock and simmer until beets are tender. Season with salt and pepper. We have coriander in a grinder these days and I seem to be putting that in everything, along with a bit of Korean Chile. Remove from heat and then whir up in batches in a food processor, further thinning with stock as needed. Swirl in cream if you're feeling very decadent or are hooked on presentation; this would also be a great opportunity to use up some of that cilantro before the frost.

Nature's Green Grocer

2008-10-01T10:55:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have been inquiring about buying Bee's Wing Farm garlic locally, check out the new natural foods market in Peterborough, NH, Nature's Green Grocer. We have just restocked the Korean Red and German Extra Hearty (the "Music" variety is all gone). Garlic is also for sale here at Bee's Wing, but call first as we are running out quickly.

Nature's Green Grocer is owned and operated by Joel and Cheyenne Patterson. When we came through the door with our garlic, Joel's face lit up. A trained chef, he attended the Culinary Institute of America and worked for Wolfgang Puck in Los Angeles. The Patterson's know the joys of gourmet garlic and are happy to be carrying local produce in their market.

This is a family business. Grandfather (and now great-grandfather) Bob, can be found behind the counter along with Joel's cousin, Ashley (spotted here weighing out tahini). I suspect the real reason they are working at Nature's Green Grocer is that they get to hang out with Joel and Cheyenne's new baby. In addition to all sorts of organic produce, groceries, a full deli and a selection fresh fish, the store also carries an array of vitamins and supplements as well as HABA items (that's health and beauty aids for those of you who never worked at the local coop).

This is a nice, upscale market with a great café space for enjoying lunch or just a cup of tea while shopping for groceries. We're pleased to have this new relationship between Bee's Wing Farm and Nature's Green Grocer -- at least until this year's harvest runs out. Now we can focus on the getting next year's crop in the ground!

Professor Shallot

2008-09-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we delivered our first major order of garlic to one Professor Shallot (actually, that is not how he spells his name, but who can resist Professor Shallot in the kitchen with twenty pounds of hardneck garlic?).

These days the Beeswing-mobile is sporting Hopeful bumper stickers; we were amused to find the check from Professor Shallot reads "Planet Earth" for an address. Here's to peace on earth and garlic for all.

More garlic is shipping out today -- a box for our first official customer, Anne, who lives in Little Switzerland, and a box for bound for Yellow Springs, Ohio. Meanwhile our pantry is filling with "smalls" -- the garlic we'll be using up ourselves over the winter, and other heads have been set aside for popping and planting this fall.

Curing!

2008-07-25T05:01:00.000-07:00

This year's garlic crop is curing nicely on racks set up in the barn. We were glad to get it all out of the ground before the torrential rains we have had the last week or so. The next step is to trim the roots and brush the bulbs off, then zip tie and tag small bundles for market.

We'll save bulbs of each variety for replanting in the fall, so we're in the process of figuring out how much expansion we'd like to do after this first year. The raised beds have worked out beautifully for drainage, so we'll be building another set of long boxes for the 08/09 crop.

This year we had four varieties of garlic: German Extra Hearty, Korean Red, Music and Dublin Heirloom. I'd like to add just one variety this year -- perhaps one called Persian Star. It's fun to compare the different flavors. We look forward to cooking with all of them.

A Fibonacci Sequence In the Garden

2008-07-18T10:22:00.001-07:00

Romanesco really resembles something from the undersea world or the desert, it’s hard to decide which. I love the coral-like quality and the images it brings to mind. This plant conjures all sorts of thoughts about fractals and mathematical design in nature. The spiral heads have conical florets which are also spirals; it’s a truly amazing plant.

First documented in 16th Century Italy, Romanesco is part of the brassica family. The botanical name for this variety of Romanesco is Brassica oleracea Romanesco Veronica. It also goes under other names: Broccolo Romanesco, Cavolo Romanesco or Italian Cauliflower. Romanesco refers to the Roman dialect in Italian, and supposedly this vegetable comes from between Rome and Naples.

Crosses in the brassica family (which includes cabbage, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, kohlrabi, etc.) are fairly common -- broccolini (broccoli and Chinese kale) and broccoflower (broccoli and cauliflower) are everywhere now. Romanesco, however, is more like something that came in on an inter-Galactic grocery transport or something Jules Verne's chef may have served in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

The size of this plant is quite fantastic. Since we do intensive gardening this is somewhat of a deterrent, but really it's worth every inch of the real estate it occupies in our raised beds. Next year we plan to do more, but of course we say that about everything!

French Shallots

2008-07-14T13:02:00.000-07:00

Last fall we planted some French Shallots, now harvested and curing on long screens out in the barn. Their elongated bulbs turn a beautiful copper color over time. We were very interested in the way they grow in finger-like bunches with one long scape and this year we plan to put in a lot more.

Shallots are technically members of the onion family (Allium ascalonicum). “Ascalonicum” is derived from Ascalon in South Palestine, where they may have originated. Shallots divide into cloves like garlic rather than one bulb with concentric layers like an onion. They carmelize beautifully and are wonderful in sauces, soups, etc.

We’ve just started bundling and tagging up small bunches of shallots. The garlic is ready for brushing and grading, and we just need some sunny days to get us out to the barn to tackle that project. The zip ties and tags are all ready, and then the first official Bee’s Wing harvest will go to market.