There’s nothing like weeding several rows of carrots to make one realize that carrot weeding is an activity to be undertaken with either zen-like calm or unmitigated enthusiasm…anything in between is guaranteed to result in unbearable frustration. There is no pleasure to be found in weeding carrots. They germinate slowly and weeds have ample time to firmly take root before a carrot has even begun to form. When it becomes impossible to ignore the weeds any longer, we fall on our knees (the most comfortable position is on all fours) and begin our chore – one not recommended solo, but rather in groups of two or more, to preserve morale. Carrot weeding is undeniably painstaking, as it is difficult to avoid uprooting one or more miniature carrots with each handful of weeds. Knees ache and sweat beads the brow…and while the satisfaction somehow seems paltry in comparison to the effort exerted, the rows do eventually get weeded. Daucus carota is its latin name, and you’ll see them in your baskets later this summer.
You all know a blueberry bush cannot be harvested in the first three years of its life. We’ve told you often enough already – flowers and fruit must be sacrificed for the greater good of the plant and its roots. A field of well-established blueberry bushes should yield tasty fruit for more than 20 years. That being said, to test the different varieties we’ve planted, we’ve let one of each bloom – 7 or 8 worthy representatives of the thousand bushes we planted last year, ranging from the early season (July) varietals to the late season (September) ones. Some are already laden with berries, hanging like bunches of grapes on fine stems. For now, our task is to make sure the plants are growing, weeded and composted well. When the first fruits ripen, we’ll write a post on the varieties we’ve planted.
… as it is the busiest time of the year for vegetable growers. Everything needs to get done – field planting, irrigation, weeding, and very soon, harvesting the first vegetables for next week’s baskets. The good news is that we’ve also found time to plant our berries, just in time for them to root well in order to begin producing next year. We’ll have a little bit of everything: raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, red, and even black, currants. In the meantime, we have to seed grass between the rows and make sure they’re off to a good start.
Agriculture in northern climes means rushing like crazy to get everything planted in the field before the summer heat. Quebec seasons being what they are, the planting window is narrow indeed. Consider this spring: after an unseasonably hot May, we are now facing an unusually rainy early June. Neither is optimal for farmers looking to work in their fields and plant their seedlings. When it rains too much, machines compact the soil; when it rains too little, for weeks on end, nothing grows, and root systems wither. So we do double planting duty, planting thousands of plants in record time. Beyond the window, there’s no point in planting – given the short Quebec summer, many vegetables simply won’t make it to maturity. While agriculture is, generally speaking, a marathon – spring planting up North is more of a 100-metre dash.
It’s been more than two weeks since our last post, but many things had to get done to launch our field production…After a chilly start which may have cost us a few cauliflowers, we are now experiencing an early heat wave, and watering freshly planted vegetables and fragile root systems has been an absolute priority. Meteorological vagaries notwithstanding, our broccoli, cauliflower, celery, fennel, lettuce, green-red-nappa cabbage, kale, beets, spinach and swiss chard are already planted; our eggplant, basil, beans, peppers and tomatoes are patiently biding their time in their trays; and we’ve seeded our carrots and turnips. The season is indeed launched, and planting activity (a continuous succession of seeds and seedlings) will continue unabated until mid-summer – all with a view of ensuring a steady supply of vegetables for our baskets.
In our spare time and with a view to the longer term, we also planted a small orchard of 60 trees – a mix of plum, pear and apple varietals. Patience is a virtue, as it will be a few years before they begin to bear fruit.
We could have planned it better, but the need for a greenhouse of our own has become pressing, so we decided to build one in our “spare” time. Ideally, it would have been best to wait until the end of the summer when everything is planted and we only have a few weeks of basket deliveries left. Putting it off until then is not an option, though, as the greenhouse we are sharing with a friend and fellow organic farmer is bursting at the seams. After shopping around a bit, we decided to build our own wooden structure, like they used to in the good ol’ days. For seasonal producers such as ourselves, whose intense use of a greenhouse is limited to three months out of twelve, a wooden structure works just fine. The only requirements to start our seedlings are a sheltered spot with good light exposure. That being said, most “sensible” people today buy metal structures and raise a greenhouse in a day. But we wanted something a little more rustic – there is something undeniably more appealing to working in a wooden greenhouse than a metal one, particularly in mid-March. The structure is almost finished – the only thing missing is the polyethylene tarp. We are still debating whether to heat the greenhouse with propane gas or diesel (unfortunately, neither geothermal nor solar energy are commercially feasible solutions for greenhouses in Quebec yet) – a debate that will be practically settled as a function of the best furnace deal we can find…
You may be wondering what farmers do in April when they’re not in the greenhouse. While they may be doing seasonal maintenance on farm equipment in preparation for the summer, more likely they are starting work in their fields, provided said fields are dry enough for a tractor or a rotary tiller. Proper soil preparation of beds is important to ensure plants develop healthy and strong roots. But care has to be taken not to damage the soil; premature entry into a field in the spring when the soil is too wet can severely compact the soil. Compaction is something of a four-letter word in agriculture, a by-product of poor workmanship and/or unseemly impatience. That being said, sandy loam like ours is more forgiving (than clay, say), allowing for earlier soil preparation. After ploughing under last fall’s crops, a couple of passes with the vibratory plough in the past few days has broken up any remaining clumps, allowing us to prep the soil for this year’s vegetable beds. In coming days/weeks we will be direct seeding radishes, arugula, turnips, peas and carrots, among others – inaugurating the 2010 planting season in earnest. Stay tuned – in a couple of weeks, we’ll fill you in on the logistics of (biodegradable) plastic mulching.
We finally succumbed to the subtle pressure of friends and family for whom a farm without farm dogs is not a farm. Allow us therefore to introduce you to Maggy, a two-year-old black Labrador retriever, and her five pups, now four weeks old. We would have liked to know the father, but what matters most is that mother and pups are healthy, and the pups are growing by leaps and bounds. We picked them up at the SPCA – an organization that works hard to find new homes for animals abandoned by their owners. We are acting as a foster home until the puppies are old enough to be adopted. We won’t be keeping them all – the mum and two pups will be more than enough.
To dog-lovers reading this: that leaves three puppies to be adopted…
Weed control is an obsession for the organic farmer who is constantly seeking to minimize the time spent weeding (a thankless chore, according to most). Take fall garlic, for instance. Planted in October, it spends winter in a dormant state, but is quick to sprout as soon as spring temperatures beckon. Unfortunately, it does not lack for company, even this early in the season – so weeds must be dealt with swiftly to prevent their competing for nutrients in the soil. While it is a bit rich to speak of two “garlic schools of thought,” there are those who believe it paramount to cover the bulbs with straw as soon as they are planted in the fall, and those who believe weeding, be it by hand or mechanical, is preferable at a later stage in the garlic bulb’s life cycle. We sit squarely on the fence between these two opinions, but only because we did not have time to lay straw last fall before the first snowfall. Recognizing how tedious weeding several beds of garlic may soon become, we laid a thick layer of straw this week in a bid to avoid being overwhelmed come June. While there seems to be no meaningful difference in yield between garlic with straw and garlic without, straw means better water retention, a plus during hot, dry summers. Late June-early July baskets will include garlic scapes (fleurs d’ail), with real garlic expected by late July.
“A garlic caress is stimulating. A garlic excess soporific.” (Une caresse d’ail revigore, un excès d’ail endort) – Maurice Edmond Sailland (1872-1956), better known by his pen-name Curnonsky and dubbed the Prince of Gastronomy, reportedly the most celebrated French writer on gastronomy in the 20th century.
As March ends, it is time for us to order our laying hens to ensure they arrive towards the middle of May. Hen selection seems easy enough, but it’s more complicated than it appears. Unlike broilers that arrive as one- or two-day old chicks, layers come aged 18 to 19 weeks. They usually start to lay within a couple of weeks. The question is – which hens to choose? Our research seems for naught as we quickly find out breeders don’t sell chickens by breed, but by color: “What’s it going to be? We have red ones, white ones and grey ones.” After a few frustrating calls, a friendly breeder finally explains that the “whites” are white-egg-laying Leghorns, the “reds” are those of Rhode Island fame who typically lay brown-shelled eggs, and the “greys”, our favourites, are Plymouth Rock hens, whose shells have a pinkish hue. Plymouth Rock layers are sought after as much for their meat as for their eggs. The aforementioned hens have well-established pedigrees that reach back to colonial times and even Europe. At the beginning of the last century, farmers in nearby Oka bred the Chantecler, a hardy hen capable of weathering cold Quebec winters and a prolific layer, to boot. We have been told that it is the Chantecler, a species now on the verge of extinction, that is the most commonly depicted rooster on Quebec weathervanes.
Our answer this year: we’ll take the white ones and the grey ones, please.