End-of-Season Overload

Each August, I tell myself that next year I will make sure to take some vacation time from my outside job at this time of year. And every year, I forget to. There is such an abundance of produce harvested at the end of the summer that it seems like a full-time job to deal with it. A nice problem, to be sure, but still …

Right now: the first planting of broccoli is already in the freezer, about 16 bags’ worth, and the plants are still sending out side shoots. The second broccoli planting is still a few weeks away from harvest. Green beans are coming fast and furious – I planted less than half as much as usual this year, four varieties on two six-foot-tall tepees, but it’s still more than I can keep up with; some go in the freezer, some to relatives, lots eaten raw for snacks. Cucumbers are crazy this summer! – abundant and delicious – we eat one every day, we hand them out to family and friends, the chickens get some too. We’ve got corn on the cob on our supper menu nearly every day now, and there will be plenty to put in the freezer very soon. Collards are so easy – they’re cut into one-inch pieces and tossed into freezer bags, no blanching needed; later they’ll be tossed into soups for extra nutrition. And the melons! – sweet, fragrant, delicious muskmelons this year, the best ever thanks to the hot summer; lots of them go into the freezer, cubed, for winter treats.

And what a year for hornworms! There were days when we were picking off a dozen or more at a time, and tossing them to the chickens. Not only did they go after the tomatoes, but the peppers as well, stripping the leaves and exposing the fruit -- which they'd munch on as well (see the little hole in the pepper in the back?). Now that the nights are so cool (often in the forties), the worst seems to be over.


My current favorite recipe uses what’s in season right now, and is flexible enough to accommodate new items at any time. It’s a roasted dish: zucchini, summer squash, tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, kale, all chopped; oregano, basil, winter savory; all mixed with olive oil and just a wee bit of balsamic vinegar (which REALLY punches up the flavor). Popped into a 350 oven for 30 minutes or so, then served with either feta or Romano or Parmesan cheese sprinkled on top, it’s sooooo delicious!

Why Bigger is not always Cheaper

Recently we traveled a bit on a rare day off together, my hubby and I, to a daylily farm in another state. Not only is it just the sort of thing for a daylily obsessive like me, but it’s also part of our continuing effort to observe how other farms and nurseries go about the business of growing and selling daylilies and other perennials. And walking amongst six acres in bloom is like being in heaven.

We had been to this place a few years ago, and had been a bit startled at how relatively high their prices were. This time we looked at the situation in a more analytical way, comparing it to our much-smaller operation.

Overhead is much higher for them, clearly. They have thousands of varieties, and numerous employees; they’re open seven days a week in peak season. Wages, Social Security, FICA, unemployment and worker’s compensation insurance – all that is considerable, and probably their biggest expense. A simple but spacious custom-built outbuilding/office/store, specialized software for the cash register that spits out a receipt telling you exactly what you’ve bought and the statistics on those varieties, several large greenhouses, and a large hybridizing program all cost plenty. There are mowers, tillers, assorted specialized tools and equipment to maintain so many beds and grassy paths; irrigation systems, and the gas and electricity to power it all. There’s a mail-order department with phones and computers, advertising, a beautiful printed full-color catalog, and no doubt more that we’re not even realizing. Whew. No wonder their prices are higher!

And I don’t begrudge them that at all. A farm/nursery like theirs is a “destination” as well, a place of real beauty out in the country where you can spend hours strolling, enjoying the flowers, sitting at any of the many tables and benches shaded by umbrellas. I, for one, have to be nearly physically dragged away when it’s time to go.

As for Dhabi’s, though, I don’t have any desire to grow my business even half as large as that. The “vision” here is to perhaps double in size from where we are now, to perhaps 350-400 different daylily cultivars, and to keep it a small, friendly, family-run nursery with low overhead and correspondingly lower prices. Keeping it simple – yeah.

But, of course, I reserve the right to change my mind at any time ;-).

Here's a few photos of some of the new ones we picked up:

Dottie Warwick

Obsidian

Quick trip to the Big City

So this little country mouse traveled to the Big City today and lived to tell the tale. No, this has nothing to do with gardenfarming, really … except that this is how I spent my morning, instead of weeding, watering, and lining out daylilies.

Up at 4 am, we were, so that I could get my daughter to Logan for an early flight. No big deal, it would seem, especially for someone who used to zip on into Boston regularly for museums, shopping, entertainment, classes, seminars, back in pre-farm days. But seven years of country living has wrought some changes in my perceptions.

The traffic, for starters … four lanes in each direction of bumper-to-bumper shiny SUVs! All that speeding and weaving, all those near-misses! My heart was in my throat … I’m now more accustomed to slow pickups heavily laden with hay, to lightly-traveled roadways, to, shall we say, more polite drivers who aren’t in quite so much of a hurry and who aren’t driving vehicles equivalent in cost to a small New Hampshire home. (And while I was desperately trying to hold my own in that seething muscular river of metal, hoping to maneuver safely into the correct lane and make my exit, I was catching snippets of the radio news … “drug war” … “severed heads” … “car bombings” … adding to the feel of having stumbled into some dystopian alternate universe.)

Finally, the airport, with its choking atmosphere of jet, truck, bus and car exhausts that burn the throat, with signs everywhere insisting “Absolutely No Parking” at the dropoff, and warnings that your car may be searched; the $3.50 charge (wasn’t it $1.00 just a few years ago?) to drive through the Callahan to get outta there and head back north; the gas stations charging .20 more per gallon than we pay up here in the sticks.

Of course people live, commute, and work in that environment every day and many love it. I don’t. While the city has its charms (none of which I was able to savor on this particular trip), I was relieved to head north again and reminded how fortunate we are to live in this slower, quieter, relatively unspoiled and friendly place. Heading over Pitcher Mountain with no other vehicle in sight, I was once again knocked out by the three-state view of mountains and forests, shaggy horned cows grazing in the fields alongside the road. A graceful white egret was poised on a rock in the Ashuelot as I followed the winding river road into my little town. And when I pulled into our own driveway, the farm looked even better to me than when I left. Nice to be back home.