Whiteley Creek Homestead

dirt and chicken poop

In this month of February, my garden plans continue to evolve and take shape on paper as I stumble upon fresh new ideas. My seed lists continue to be refined while reigning in any unrealistic, overzealous goals for spring planting, and I've been identifying sources for purchasing my organic, heirloom, non-GMO, open pollinated, non-hybrid veggie and flower seeds. This step in the gardening process heightens the anticipation of spring planting, and I enjoy it immensely, but I'm longing to bring into my kitchen some dirty veggies. Yes. Not squeaky clean ones from the grocery store's produce department. No, I want some clinging dirt that indicates they were freshly plucked from the soil. With the exception of those using high tunnel farming practices, there's nothing to be plucked from Minnesota gardens at the present. So, what else was I to do but go to the Sanford Farmer's Market in central Florida.

Upon arriving at the market, I headed immediately to a vendor I had researched online: State of Harmony Farm. Their animals are pastured/grass-fed and welfare/humane certified. Integrated pest management and other organic practices are utilized. The farm offers a CSA with positive reviews from those utilizing the service. "No upfront costs. Just pay for the week you order. Small $35. Medium $50. Large $70." Simplistic and flexible. Nice.

The market opened at 10A. As the clock at the market's entrance indicates, I arrived at 11:10, so State of Harmony Farm's remaining offerings were limited. But, there was the dirt I had been longing to find. Clinging to the multicolored radishes. And the roots were intact. The neatly bundled collards were crisp and lovely with their red-veins and red-tinged leaves. Winter offerings. Appropriate for the season. I also bought three dozen multi-colored eggs after receiving confirmation that the hens roam freely on pasture in the sunshine pecking grass and bugs. Some of the eggs had poop clinging to their shells. For many, it may be a turnoff, but it means the eggs' natural protective coating had not been washed off. This is a very good thing because the coating prevents bacteria from entering the shell and reduces moisture loss, thus extending the shelf life of the egg. Dirt and poop. Both good. 

For lunch, I knew Roots Raw Juice Bar would be perfect. The walk to Roots on South Sanford Avenue is therapeutic in itself. Located on a quiet side street close to downtown, you'll pass by Antidote Apothecary & Spa and Claire's Hats. How quaint, right? Upon my arrival at Roots, there, on the bathroom hallway wall, was a painting of a rooted plant with the words "rejuvenate" lettered on its stem. This place surely would continue to feed my winter season soul.   

From the menu posted on the wall, I ordered a Cabbage Patch Salad consisting of spring greens, red cabbage, tomato, cucumber, and sunflower seeds with a finely diced topping of carrot, broccoli, red cabbage, and celery and a sprinkling of dried currants to add a bit of sweet. Drizzled with a light, clean dressing made with olive oil, red (white?) wine vinegar, salt, and pepper, it was just what I was looking for. To complete my meal, I chose a Go Bananas! Smoothie made with banana, hemp protein, cacao, and coconut water.

Root's cacao banana smoothie prompted me to make Detoxinista's Chocolate Banana Protein Shake , but I subbed plain coconut water for the liquid. The intensity of the recipe's chocolate flavor is very good, but, if mimicking Root's smoothie is a goal, you'd want to use less cacao and more coconut water. And the banana slices resting along the sides of the glass with whipping cream nestled atop like a winter stocking cap? Minimalist Baker was my inspiration. Her creations and photography skills are a must-see! I was thrilled with how simply slipping in some slivers of banana elevated the presentation of my shake, but you have to see the master's version: "Banana Split Smoothie." It is truly an art form using food as the medium.

FYI, the Winter Garden Farmer's Market in downtown Winter Garden, Florida is a must-stop if you are in the vicinity and looking for another market option.

 

 

heirloom beans and purple potatoes

It's a given. If you are one in a family of twelve children, you help grow what you eat. Soup beans and potatoes were staples that carried us through the winter. What drives me to continue to plant these two crops in my own 3b Plant Hardiness Zone Garden each year is not necessity but a deeply rooted sense of preparedness for Minnesota's cold months that lie between autumn's harvest and spring's thaw. It's being ready. It's knowing that beans and potatoes, set aside from the previous year's harvest, will take root in the early spring's soil to provide for us many pots of warming soup as the snow blankets the ground. 

On May 20th each year, I honor my father (May 20, 1910-January 26, 2005) and his influence on my connection to the soil by planting soup beans and potatoes in my garden. Although the heirloom varieties of soup beans (Hutterite pictured in enamel cup, Calypso, Hidatsa Shield Figure, Painted Pony, Turkey Craw, and Ireland Creek Annie) that climb various trellises throughout my garden, and the Purple Majesty Potatoes with purple skin and purple flesh that I companion plant next to nasturtium (to deter Colorado potato beetles) and cabbage, are not the navy beans and russet potatoes of my childhood, no matter.

Life's cycle continues...

root vegetable harvest

Deep within the soil, the tiny seeds of carrots and the "eyes" of seed potato chunks that were planted in the early spring take root. Silently, steadily over the warm summer months root vegetables grow. Unseen. Until end-of-summer and the tease of autumn gently intersect.   

For several years, I have been planting three varieties of potatoes: purple skin with purple flesh, red skin with red flesh, and white potatoes. Sliced, then fried alongside pastured hen eggs with deep orange-colored yolks... Holy moly. 

 

 

nesting boxes

Our Barred Rock and Rhode Island Red Hens have a cluster of sixteen metal nesting boxes attached to the rear wall of their chicken coop... all lined with straw.

Our hens are a flock of six. They could each have their own nest. However, five take turns laying their daily egg in one box and the sixth on top of a bale of hay where she has hollowed out a bowl-shaped nest.

Then, one hen... and later two... started hanging out in an old wooden nesting box that we had, several years ago, attached to the wall of our front porch just for quirkiness. If we had extended an invitation by lining the two units with straw, it wouldn't have struck us as odd, but the hens identified it as a nesting box on their own.

They have never laid a single egg in the box. Maybe because they lack straw, but they hang out long enough for us to know that they may be considering it.

triticale harvest

Each year, a local farmer plants, tends, and harvests grain on a portion of our acreage. Utilizing a four-year rotation plan, he intentionally selects crops that enrich the soil naturally and provide bees with nectar for honey production.  

Last fall, in our field, he planted triticale (trit uh KAY lee), which is a hybrid grain made by crossing wheat (triticum) and rye (secale). Hybrid and GMO are not the same. A hybrid is a plant variety developed by intentionally crossing two parent plants using a low-tech process that mimics what occurs naturally in nature. Conversely, GMOs (genetically modified organisms) are created using highly complex methods to create unnatural plant varieties that would never emerge naturally in nature.

We are grateful for the partnership we have with a committed organic farmer.

 

 

cotyledons vs. true leaves

This week, the overnight temps are forecast to be consistently in the 50s and the daytime highs in the low 70s, so today I moved my zucchini plants, that I had been growing in pots in my greenhouse, into my garden beds. This year, for the first time, I got a head start on my sweetcorn, too.

Plants are a miraculous thing. When a seed sprouts, it grows two leaves called cotyledons that are a food source for the plant until "true leaves" form. (See the two large spoon-shaped leaves at the base of the zucchini plant in the photo below.) The true leaves, which look like the plant's mature leaves, are now able to feed the plant through the process of photosynthesis. The cotyledons' job is now finished, so the two leaves decay and fall off the plant.

santa scarecrow

In the autumn of last year, I had removed the sundress and hat from my "scarecrow" during the garden's end-of-season putting to bed process. The wind and snow over the winter had toppled the simple board framework that formed a vertical "body" and perpendicular "arms" reminiscent of an old-fashioned telephone pole.  (See left side of photo.) Mentioning to Dick that I needed to set it upright again to ready it for its summer attire, he apparently tucked the thought away to retrieve later. He frequently rides his four-wheeler across our property to an adjacent piece of land where his friend, Pat, lives. This day, Pat had a large, plastic Santa targeted for the landfill. Immediately, Dick thought scarecrow. That would be the first thought to pop into everybody's head, right? Incredulously, Pat said, "She's not gonna want that in her garden!" "Oh, yes, she will," was Dick's rapid-fire reply. And he was right.

 

a flock of six

Our hens. Olga, Phoebe, Flossie, Henny-penny, Opal, and Pearl. Three Rhode Island Red and three Barred Rock. With no roaming restrictions, their diet is varied and nature-inspired, exercise occurs regularly and freely throughout the day in the fresh air and sunshine, and human contact aids psychological health. They must follow two rules. Eggs must be laid in the coop's straw-lined nesting boxes and all hens must return to the coop at dusk. A simple, happy life with few rules but very important ones. 

Free-range foraging is supplemented with a chicken layer ration that we purchase from Buckwheat Growers in Wadena, (Minnesota). It is "transitional" feed, which means that it is raised using organic growing methods, but the farmer's fields are not yet certified organic. It takes a three year period to receive certification. This particular mix consists of barley, field peas, flax, buckwheat, oats, kelp, and vitamin and mineral supplements. Our hens eat well so that we may eat well.

 

 

"salad bar" cold frame

Residing in one of the colder climates in the nation presents challenges, but not roadblocks. A cold frame provides a jump start on our plant hardiness zone 3 growing season in central Minnesota.  Growing up, Dick and I both learned from our parents that whatever you have, use what you've got. Whether it be finances, intelligence, a specific skill set that you've come by naturally or learned, or repurposing castoff items. So, that's exactly what Dick did.

To build the cold frame, Dick used a steel "catwalk" supported by cement blocks for the base. "Catwalks, which are also called elevated walkways, allow access between buildings and to elevated areas of equipment or machinery that need regular attention in a variety of industrial and manufacturing environments." (Source: www.steelesolutions.com) The catwalk came from a building used by the now defunct Hanna Mining Co. in Crosby, Minnesota, where Dick's father worked. Many years after his father's death, Dick was hired to demolish the building. His lifetime work, as owner of an excavating business, netted him many finds that grew rusty over the years, such as this catwalk, until the perfect use surfaced. After cutting off the handrails, he lined the catwalk with landscape plastic to prevent soil from falling through the diamond grid pattern and to allow water drainage. Next, he constructed a wooden frame and filled the box with soil to a depth of 7 inches, then he planted seeds of Cherry Belle and Watermelon Radishes, Nantes Scarlet Carrot, a colorful mixture of leaf lettuce, and Evergreen Bunching Onions. Covered with a skylight removed from our back porch ceiling and old paned windows, the captured daytime warmth is enough to carry the plants safely through the cool nighttime as April soon transitions into May. The waist high "salad bar" cold frame virtually eliminates back strain. And that's a very good thing, especially for aging backs!

purple sweet potato

Although the soil's temperature in my central Minnesota zone 3 garden indicates that outdoor planting must wait a few weeks yet, I placed my seed potato order in mid-February. A few years ago, inspired by a purple sweet potato included in my weekly produce box and the pot of "Leek Butternut Squash and Sweet Potato Soup" that I prepared with them, I decided that I wanted to plant sweet potatoes... purple ones.

Purple sweet potatoes are grown in North Carolina. Ya gotta watch this YouTube video Stokes Purple Sweet Potato that tells how it all began and how the farmer got neighbors involved and saved their farms. He started the business after he retired. Heartwarming story on several levels. I wrote to him so he would know that his story was inspiring and I asked him if sweet potatoes would grow in Minnesota and did he sell seed potatoes to grow them. He wrote back to say that our growing season is too short. But, each year, I make sure to plant purple potatoes... ones with purple skin and purple flesh. No, they're not sweet potatoes, but I'm O.K. with that.