Manure into gold
June 10th, 2011Summer solstice is approaching, and the new garden is almost completed. The water barrels are in and connected to our water system, water level controlled by a float valve (watering is done by bucket or watering can). Raised beds are almost all readied and planted.
Peas and onions; leeks and shallots; cabbages, carrots and bush beans; first planting of corn and flageolet beans; tomatoes; broccoli, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. The bed at the bottom left awaits warmer weather for peppers.
More tomatoes, under the cold frames.
Soil temperature is now 76° in the raised beds, whereas soil temperature in the ground is 67°. In the raised beds, soil temperatures are warm enough to get good germination on warm-weather crops such as beans and corn. I’ve found this chart to be very informative and useful.
The chart explains why we have a tough time germinating lettuce in the ground in the summer. We designed the greenhouse to keep cool in the summer as well as warm in the winter, to better germinate cool-weather crops like lettuces even in hot weather. That way we can replant seedlings in the garden every couple of weeks before the older lettuces bolt, maintaining a constant supply of tender young greens throughout the summer and then into autumn and winter.
The deer fence isn’t keeping gophers out.
Gophers did a number on the roots of that poor cabbage. Luckily we’ve got a few back-up starts left in the greenhouse.
The one bed at the back still needs compost added and working. One mama Muscovy who had made her nest in the compost pile ventured out from under the covering tarp a couple of days ago, five ducklings in tow.
The other mama Muscovy, on a warm & sunny day last weekend, rolled her eggs out from under their protective tarp. This morning, mama and her dozen eggs were gone – nothing left but scattered feathers. I suspect a fox. The mama in the stump is still okay, and another mama is now (wisely) sitting inside the duck shed, where she’s safe.
A sad loss, not only of an adult female Muscovy but of a bevy of incipient ducklings. That’s life and death on the farm. As consolation, I can now get at the compost pile, finish up the last raised bed, and get the squashes and cucumbers planted.
Here’s where great compost starts, with mucking out the sheep shed.
It’s no job for old men.
Young men seem to be scarce when it comes to this kind of work, and are most certainly not seasoned (or maybe scarred) enough to find joy in it.
Mucking the shed yields a big pile of manure.
A year later, alchemy – shit has transformed into black gold.
The payout continues for years after, in the form of the freshest, most nutritious, and most delicious of food.











