Greetings, Beausol locavores:
I hope everyone had a wonderful, safe Independence Day.I again need to remind you to return the share bags to us each week. Thank you.
It does not take much to make a "drought." We have been irrigating, nearly every day, trying to maintain some moisture in the soil for the plants... seems to be a never-ending futility at times. Mulch helps so much. I was surprised to awaken to heavy clouds and very light rain yesterday (Sunday). It rained off and on all morning and into the early afternoon and the rain gauge finally contained about one-hundredth inch... hardly worth the effort. The radar sure looked promising to start the day... ah, well...
We learned this week how very important water can be to our existence - not jsut the plants' - and how we are totally dependent on it: our well pump failed this past week. It chose a time when we had many participants in our lives: my mother-in-law and Deb's nephew were here for the day and Mike and Brian were here as usual. And the heat and work demanding drinking large volumes of water didn't help. Luckily, none of our offspring were in residence, again being scattered to the far corners of the country.There was nothing for drinking except what milk, juice and water were in the refrigerator. No cooking allowed, except what did not require water. No washing of anything. No flushing of commodes. Quite an adventure.
We have a generator for times of hurricanes and ice storms when the electricity might fail, but that was obviously of no use. I guess twelve years was enough for the pump to do its faithful service (though not nearly long enough for my liking): working so very hard to provide us and your crops with much needed precious water. We were very lucky to find a plumber to come out in a short time and stay a long time to finish the job in one long day. Thank you, Jackie!!
So now I am thinking about alternative ways to hold and acquire water.... like a large rainwater cistern or a hand pump for the well.
Summer progresses. All the summer crops are doing well. Now that we have figured out that the tomatoes were not getting their full ration of water and remedied the situation, they should pick up ripening and we should be getting more in the shares. There are summer squash ripening on the second planting. I think you will soon have LOTS (hopefully not too much) of squash to try lots of new recipes.
The edamame have beans on them and they have started filling out. I am thinking we will have edamame next week. There is a large field of soybeans down the road from us. Every time I drive by it I see deer grazing it. This weekend we were out running errands and passed a small field of soybeans that has been totally eaten down to 3 inch stubs. Deer LOVE soybeans - about as much as they love sweet potato vines, azaleas and tulips. We are duly chastened to keep our fencing in good repair!!The cantaloupe vines are blooming. How long can my patience hold?I think I see a little color on a few peppers. WIshful thinking and self delusion? I hope not. But there ARE jalapeno peppers ready for picking!
The potato vines are about finished their dieback. We are planning "the big potato harvest" this coming Sunday, the 12th. If you are available to help out with the harvest, please let us know. You are very welcome to join us Sunday afternoon about 2PM.
Directions to the farm are at http://beausol.com/contact.html
The bird activity is maintaining its high level: the red-headed woodpeckers are feasting on the chokecherries, wrens sing outside our windows, goldfinches are eating and scattering seeds between brilliant yellow flashes across the gardens, bluebirds are hunting the fields with other birds, I have noticed indigo buntings now and I have heard peewees and bluejays. I seldom hear or see bluejays out here. I have come to consider jays and robins as urban creatures, like pigeons. The more polite and soothing cooing doves stand-in for their feathered-rat brethren in this wild frontier.
The last couple of weeks have brought the cicadas out. I hear them at dusk each evening. Their song vividly brings me back to my childhood. Here I repeat "my cicada story" from last year for you CSA newcomers.
This week summer has continued to intensify its presence: I have started hearing the sustained
"rrrrreEEEEEEErrrrreeeeeeEEEEErrrrreeeeeeEEEEErrrr" of the cicadas at dusk. It reminds me of my childhood in New Orleans. When I was about 6 or 7, I think, my Dad would take me out to City Park at dusk and we would search, with a flashlight, the huge live oak tree trunks for the brown crisp cicada nymphs about to "molt." They had crawled out of the ground and up those trees to begin the last step of their life cycle after years of subterranean existence. We would find several and take a couple back home in a carrying cage my Dad had made by cutting many little diamond shaped holes in a small paper bag. At home we would put them on the bottom of our curtains and turn out the lights as we watched television (yes, there was television - black and white only - in the previous century). We would check their progress at the eagerly awaited commercial breaks: they would ever so slowly crawl up the curtain and at some appropriate time, known only to them, their "shell" would crack and ever so slowly, the adult would push its way out of the little slit on the back of the thorax of the old exoskeleton. When it was completely out of the shell, the cicada would cling to it and, again ever so slowly, unfurl its wings and let them dry. When the "metamorphosis" (which technically it was not - that had happened underground, in the old exoskeleton) was complete, we would put the new adult cicada back in the paper bag cage and carry it outside to free it so we could here it sing each subsequent dusk.
The very first year we had moved out to the farm, we heard this huge incredible noise that seemed to come from everywhere, but mostly fromthe east. The thing it sounded like most to me was a huge hovering mother ship (as if I knew what a huge hovering mother ship soundslike). The family hopped into the car in search of the source of the pervasive sound. The very first people we encountered, a mile down the road, informed us we were hearing the song of the periodic locust (cicada! which indeed IS NOT a locust). We had happened to move out to Chatham County at one of the extreme peaks of the 13 (or 17) year species broods. Once so enlightened, I noticed that the sound was directional: it was louder where the forest was closer or denser. It was so wonderfully awesome - and LOUD! About a week later I began noticing the sound had diminished significantly and the ground under the trees was littered with dead cicadas and also noticed bushes and tree trunks were covered with empty cicada shells. We were so lucky to have experienced the phenomenon of a major brood emergence.
That means we may experience the "return of the cicada mother ship" next year?
That's about it for now.
This week the shares will have some combination of potatoes, squash, lettuce, tomatoes,jalapenos, onions, garlic, basil, and herbs (probably oregano and rosemary).
The bouquets will have a mix of gladiolas, dianthus, echinacea, yarrow, ornamental grasses,peruvian daffodils, zinnias and others.
See you soon,
Harry
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