Archive for the ‘garden’ Category


  Well, 2013 is gone.  I could get all reminiscent and that sort of stuff, but that is not my style.  I am going to relive this past year in lessons learned.

     1. Never underestimate the jumping ability of a horny goat.

     2. Trust your gut.


     3. Milking a first time freshening doe is a sport in and of itself.

     4. Potatoes do grow in hay, so do snakes.

     5. Birth is amazing, death sucks…unless it is potato bug or Japanese beetle then reverse it.


     6. Tomato horn worms “glow” under a black light.

     7.  Old tractors always need new parts.

     8. Never plant your squash in a garden that slopes to the goat pasture.


     9. Pigs do not see well in the dark and will follow a flashlight beam.

    10. Without my family’s help and support none of this would be possible.

May all your lessons in the next year be good.


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Maine the Way Life Should Be.  That is our state slogan.  Many people visit our great state.  Tourist season starts around Memorial Day and continues through Labor Day.  Lines are longer most anywhere you go and we grumble but tourists help offset our taxes with the monies they spend while visiting.

However, the tourists I am talking about are from away.  Places like Colorado and Japan.  If you are a gardener you know the visitors I am talking about.  They arrive around the 4th of July and stay until the gardens are about harvested.  Yup, I am referring to the dreaded Japanese Beetle and the Colorado Potato Beetle.  Voracious eaters of the worst kind.


The Colorado Potato Beetle attacks my potatoes every year with an appetite rivaling my 15 year old at a KFC buffet.  I religiously scour my rows upon rows of spuds with a container of soapy water and brush the buggers into it.  I mean tourists come for our water, right?  This year there have been fewer of the adult beetles but a cubic shit ton of larvae.  Now how you can have one without the other is a question that I have been pondering lately.  I am assuming they have been fornicating in the cover of darkness, laying their eggs and heading to Mt. Katahdin before I can send them to the Soapy Beach.

My other nemesis:


These guys love my raspberries.  I have given my grapes up to them but, noooo they want my razzes. Using the same method of control as with the potato bugs I attempt to at least put a small dent in the population.  When brushing them into the suds I always, always look for the orgies.  I mean I might as well get more bang for my buck, too.  When there are only two doing the nasty, I aim for both, but definitely want the bottom bug.  She will lay the future bearers of destruction.  These things live to eat and fornicate, I wonder how many men in the world have wanted to come back as Japanese Beetles.  Hmmm, perhaps that is why there are so many.

How do you control your “tourists”?

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I am an impatient sort of person.  I also worry that if I wait to do something I will get sidetracked and forget what I was going to do prior to the new project.  I am not sure if that is my personality or perimenopause. Anyway a few weeks ago, oh maybe seven to be exact I decided that I should start my tomato seeds.  You know because in my mind garden season should already be under way, damn it.  It never entered my mind that we would still, although we usually do here in Maine, have night time temps that are still below freezing in the middle of April.  One would think that I just started gardening.  Nope, been doing it for over 30 years.  So the seeds were sown.  And they have been growing since.  If they keep growing the way they are they will be taller than my 5 foot stature by the time we transplant them. But at least, I did not forget to start them.

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This past week much had been accomplished.  It was vacation week.  Around here there are no vacations.  They are just an opportunity to get extra stuff done.

The pigs were moved into their outside digs.  James and Willy were moved to their summer pasture.  The new chicken house, oh wait, I have not told you about the new chicken house that FH built.  And when I say chicken house I mean chicken HOUSE.  It is 10 x 10 with a full pitched roof.  Oldest son offered to rent it.  FH put it on skids so we can haul it to different areas of the fields so the chickens can scratch and peck to their heart’s delight.  That was moved into the same field as the pigs and boys.  The “kidlets” are in the old chicken house.

The garden is harrowed and the onions are in.  Beets, lettuce and spinach will go in tomorrow.  The raspberry and strawberry garden is all uncovered and mulched between rows.

Lawns have been raked.  Well, for the most part.  We all hate/despise/abhor raking.  Therefore, it is a chore that is put off.  Flower gardens are raked and awaiting bark mulch.  Spring cleaning is not done yet, but it will rain someday and I will get to it then.

Oh, and Miss Olive has yet to kid.  I think she is real close but she may have other ideas.  Hopefully, she will get the job done before Monday.  I have to go back to work Monday.

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Today while thinking about things around the farm, the farmer got curious about the term futures.  If you don’t know exactly what futures are click here, be forewarned it is boring to tears.  You see the farmer didn’t know what they were, exactly.  But now she does know that she likes her definition much better:

Futures, /hōp/, noun:  Hope.


This year’s replacement layers.


A new, smaller milk bucket for the new mom’s.


Tomato seedlings, reaching for the light.


This is Miss Junie B.  Junie B. ready to bust.  Look at that belly!!

These are what futures look like to this farmer….what do futures look like to you?

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Glitter and Ruby Red Shoes

Here it is snowing again.  It is not supposed to amount to much, but the farmer is sick to death of it.  It does make things look pretty and sparkly kind of like glitter and just like glitter a little goes a long way.

A friend of the farmer posted this on Facebook:


This was the farmer’s response:

Damn, it is spring in the farmer’s  head. It is one of those days when if she tries hard enough, closes her eyes, clicks her bare heels together and repeats this three times “There is no place like garden soil, there is no peace like weeding alone, there is no thing more satisfying than home grown”  it would be May.  So readers close your eyes, breathe deep, do you smell soil and green things.  If not repeat the above and believe, just believe.

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