Year One: An Inventory of Necessities

It was one year Friday that we closed on the mini-farm. A lot has changed, and a lot has not changed. There is certainly much left to do, but I'm less concerned about that today as I think about the things I've gained that I wouldn't want to do without. Obviously, Salt is at the top of that list. I am enjoying the chickens much more than I ever imagined. Inept as I am, it turns out that I like gardening pretty well too.

There is always something to do, which suits me if it doesn't always please me. I'm one of those people who likes to work hard and then be done with a project. I've been required to make peace with the fact on the rare occasions I complete something, I'll have about ten minutes to snap some pictures as a nod to my sense of accomplishment. "Atta-girl... on to the next thing."  With all of the projects and problem solving, this city woman has had a steep learning curve. It's one thing to see a farm, it's another thing to be responsible for it and live there. 

I impress myself with how much I've learned and I sigh thinking about everything I need to learn next. Nonetheless, in taking stock I've decided to share a list of the tools I wouldn't want to do without. This is as much for feeding my own sense of gratitude as for arming any of you who may be thinking about embarking on a mini-farm of your own. 

10) How to Grow More Vegetables by John Jeavons: There are only two books on this list, really. While this book says it is about growing vegetables it is really about making good soil and using that soil properly. Having never read a book about dirt, I learned that it's a much more interesting subject than one would think. Even if you don't garden you should read this book. It will blow your mind and you'll never see dirt the same way again.

9) The local newspapers:  We take the local metropolitan paper on weekends so that we can get the full advantage of a big city paper with arts news, sports updates and advice columns, but we also take the county newspapers and newsletters in order to get the events calendars and follow the unfolding drama of county politics. This last is surprisingly entertaining. As a newcomer to the area I can't say that I have an informed opinion, but I do marvel at how our local leaders (elected, appointed, and self-appointed) behave with such open contempt toward one another. It's better than Jerry Springer for the over-the-top drama and intellectual bankruptcy, but it's worse because these people aren't even being coaxed by a producer. The black and white, soy ink, sections of the newspaper are also good for making seedling pots; the remainder is kindling.

Javier and the Girls Enjoy a Good Book

8) Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens by Gail Damerow: This book was a great comprehensive primer, which helped me raise my girls from chicks to hens and keep them well. I still had a few mysterious issues that weren't covered by the book, but most of those issues were handled through the discussion groups at www.backyardchickens.com. Granted, the books set me up for the big virus-cancer scare, but in the end One-Eyed-Olive benefited from the extra attention. The book's greatest failing was the black and white photos of chicken butts that did nothing to assist with sexing chicks, but the color photos on the internet didn't help either. In general, it's a great book for everyday problems, if those problems include planning coops, dealing with broody hens and discouraging cannibalism.

7) The Internet: I could most certainly survive without a smart phone or my desktop computer, but I'd have to keep at least one for access to the Internet. The Internet was where I went, when I was afraid One-Eyed-Olive had Marek's disease. It's where I look up facts on vegetables I'm considering for the garden. It's how I got advice on taming my rooster. It's where I shop when I don't have time to go to town. Salt and I keep our calendars, shopping lists and freezer inventories in the cloud so that we can share them with each other. The Internet has been a great time saver.

6) Timers: Living in the country and working in the city, means we have to automate quite a few things. The barn lights, the heat lamps, the crock pot, the seedling lamps all need to run on a schedule even when we can't be there. It's a far cry from having a smart home, but the timers work just the same.

5) A barn cat: We have a snake, a lizard, a house cat, a farm dog, an ornamental dog, and nine

Lucy

chickens. We have recently adopted a barn cat, who can not be put to work until she is ready to call us hers. Her job will be to control the mouse population, because they are everywhere. The mice are in the barn, potting shed and chicken coop, and I imagine a few have found the house. They're fat and sleek and unconcerned about our presence. I detest mice, and I put my foot down when Griffin started catching them for fun.  Not only is he allergic to meat protein, but he sits on my lap, so there was no way I would let him become a mouser. Watch out mice. Lucy will be on patrol in just a few more weeks.

4) My barn coat: Unlike someone in our home who has five of every kind of coat, jacket and vest, I only have five basic coats.They cover a variety of dress occasions and weather conditions, but only one of them is machine washable. Who knew that turning straw in a cold chicken coop kicked up so much dust or that I could safely tuck two eggs in each of the four pockets or that carrying firewood with pockets full of eggs is a bad idea? Well, real farmers knew. I just guessed it would be a practical coat and it turned out I was right.

3) My work gloves: A diva must protect her hands, so I have several pairs of gloves now for different purposes. Leather, cotton, rubber gripped gloves each have different special uses, but the glove I'm most surprised to find useful are vinyl surgical gloves. They must be replaced frequently, but they are excellent for planting seedlings, which requires a lot of dexterity and digging through soft dirt.

2) Running Water: As discussed in my blog entry "What Happened When Things Got Worse" I learned that the worst thing that can happen is not to have water. I've learned to appreciate water and grey water a great deal. Chickens, pets and humans all need water more than I ever realized.I am so grateful for hot showers and for not having to save dishwater for flushing the toilet.

1) My boots were the best investment ever. They aren't particularly durable. I'll be buying new one's this summer. They are still warmer, drier and less expensive than replacing street shoes. I've often been in too much of a hurry to change shoes before checking the chickens and have found that the combination of slush, dirt, straw and chicken dung creates a unique type of concrete that dissolves glues, shrinks leather and leaves a permanent coating of dust. My rubber boots on the other hand clean up with a hose and stay looking pretty enough for a diva. Salt wears Bogs, which are warm and durable, alas they don't come in floral prints.

So there's the list of resources I've found useful over the past year.  Next year I'm thinking about studying bees and delving deeper into the practicalities of county zoning regulations. Maybe we'll get that burro we keep talking about, so stay tuned there's lots more to learn and a lot more mistakes yet to make. I'd be remiss not to say that I'm glad we did it and I'm looking forward to seeing what happens next.

#farmdiva

Pi Day: 3.14.15

This year we celebrated Pi Day on 3.14.15, paying homage to that mysterious number that has made so many things possible. To be absolutely honest, it was  partly an excuse to throw a party, but it helped that Salt and I both think math is interesting. Yes, I used the words "interesting" and "math" in the same sentence.

As a schoolgirl I was always dubious when one of my classmates would pronounce some aspect of math as useless for anything but theoretical applications, though they usually expressed themselves less elegantly, "Why do I need to know this? I'm never going to use it." My skepticism at these proclamations and the recalcitrance of my bored classmates both proved to be self-fulfilling prophesies, as I've found that whether or not one uses math outside of a classroom is largely a matter of choice. I know plenty of people who will add and subtract on calculators and guess at the rest of the math problems that face them on a daily basis. Some people are very good at guessing too, and I suspect those people have undiscovered genius in mathematical theory.

I don't care too much for theorizing in mathematics, I just like to solve the problems.  Almost every day, I ask myself "What if..." and start calculating in my head. One time I read about a train accident in the newspaper and realized the article gave all of the information necessary to calculate the force with which the train struck. After a moment of silence for the victims of the accident, I did the calculation. I can't say the answer was illuminating, because to this day I still don't really know what a Newton of force is capable of doing, but most people (especially calculator devotees) will forgive my ignorance when the conversation turns to space launches and accidentally dropping stemware.

My use of mathematics on a daily basis is more than anecdotal. I'd rather add long columns on paper than search for a calculator.When I'm making the long pilgrimage to my hometown through hundreds of miles of grassland, I spend most of the trip calculating and recalculating my arrival time at various points along the trip. I rarely call my bank if I want to get an amortization, because it's more fun to build a spreadsheet of my own that I can use to play with different payment methods. Salt will tell you that I'm addicted to budgeting; not following a budget, rather calculating budgets. I really love spread sheets with complicated algorithms and logic strings.  

Knowing this about me, it should come as no surprise that I also measure and calculate for our mini-farm projects as well.  How many cubic feet of fill do I need for the raised beds? If one side of the case is 36-inches long on the outside, how long should the lengths of the interior supports be? Although I have far more applications for the Pythagorean Theorem for calculating the length of the hypotenuse of a triangle to make sure the brackets I'm cutting will fit under the shelves, sometimes it even comes in handy to know how to calculate the area of a circle... enter Pi (π).  In case you were sleeping in Geometry class, it's the ratio of the diameter (D) of a circle to its circumference (C). It's a constant, which makes it possible to measure circles, but it's also an irrational number with no apparent end ...a mathematical mystery?

My mother who majored in Mathematics has been greatly amused at the state legislative attempts to truncate Pi's value to an even 3. Some legislatures are particularly keen on legislating science to conform with a simpler understanding of the world, so it makes sense they would care less about accuracy and more about not having to recall as many as seven digits. Note that when calculating the circumference of a circle (C = πD) using a truncated Pi, the truncation would cause the calculation of the circumference to come up a bit short. This hardly matters in the world of just wanting to get the answer right for the test, but in practical applications it means air must be let out of tires and product designers have to go out of state to obtain round parts that fit. I don't know what the fine is for adding a couple of digits to Pi for calculation purposes, but just in case my mother proposed (and I concurred) that we should serve "Legislated Pi(e)" at the party -- one with a sliver missing to adjust the circumference.

Our party was great.  Salt made Frito Chili Pi(e) with chili from an Emeril Lagasse recipe he found. It was fabulous. Our neighbors stopped by with Pi Day treats of their own and we toasted the amazing ability to measure round things.

It is an amazing thing, even if I use the Pythagorean Theorem more.  I would like to celebrate Pythagoras Day, but that may be a great deal more controversial in our home given the way that Pi Day sparked one of the few big arguments that Salt and I have had. You see, I made spaniko-Pi-tas for our office in honor of Pi Day, and asked people to calculate the hypotenuse of the pastry triangles, given a=2.5" and b=2.5". Salt said the pastries were misshapen, the measurements weren't accurate and the triangles were not exact right triangles. I said the shape was close enough, these were pastries rather than machine parts, and I could set the assumptions at anything I wanted since it was my word problem. We had a big debate involving (or in front of) the entire office that was resolved only by eating the pastries. What is the hypotenuse of a pastry for which the measurements of a and b have been rendered to nothing?  Zero.  Salt still insists they weren't proper triangles to begin with. Like Pi the great hypotenuse of pastry debate continues, but what is a holiday without an ugly family disagreement that turns into a decades long grudge match or Py, Pi, ...Pies in your face? 

Happy Pi Day!

#farmdiva