Planting Garlic

Planting garlic is similar to planting tulip and daffodil bulbs: push them deep in the soil in the late fall and wait for the magic to happen in the spring.

First make sure the soil is loose, friable, and free of weeds. Add a bit of compost and get ready to plant. I placed my garlic cloves gently on the surface of the soil to get a sense of how closely to space them. Then I pushed my garden knife into the soil the full length of the blade and dropped the garlic down. After all were planted, I covered the bed with a layer of hay and watered.

Garlic is the crop that keeps on giving. Two years ago I visited Seed Savers Exchange in Decorah, Iowa, where I purchased one head of Inchelium Red (softneck) Garlic and one head of Eric's German White (hardneck) Garlic. I planted them in October 2012 and saved my entire harvest the next summer without eating a bite.

In November 2013, I separated the cloves from the heads of garlic and planted again. By July 2014, I had 73 heads of softneck garlic (about 3.75 pounds) and 31 heads of hardneck garlic. From that harvest, I reserved five heads each of hardneck and softneck for replanting. The five heads of hardneck garlic separated into 17 large cloves; the five heads of softneck garlic separated into 62 small cloves.

I learned that garlic slowly adapts to its micro climate, so my garlic is now Red Bucket Farm garlic, specific to my little piece of paradise. Garlic smells fantastic even when planting, and it's not too late to plant this fall. What are you waiting for?

Drying Herbs

As the growing season slowly comes to an end, I'm experimenting with drying herbs for cooking use as well as for my chickens.

A farm colleague has suggested that using dried herbs in the hen house over the winter will help discourage mites or creepy crawlies and will certainly help the fragrance in that crowded space. For that goal, I've been harvesting the herbs that are underplanted in my front yard orchard--oregano, lemon balm and lavender. It's important to keep these herbs separate from those designated for human consumption because the front yard is subject to every dog in the neighborhood. 'Nuff said?

Other herbs at the farm have been living comfortably in the green house--basil, sage, rosemary, and chives. These I can dry and crush, then store in jars in the kitchen.

The process of drying herbs is simple. I cut the stems into a size that will fit in my large roasting pan and place it in a cool oven at 140 degrees Fahrenheit with the fan running. (I have a convection oven.) I prop the oven door open an inch or so to allow moisture to escape, checking on them periodically. The timing will vary depending on the herb and quantity being processed. When it all seems a bit crunchy, I take it out of the oven and gently pull the leaves off the stems. Then I crush it with my hands and place it in storage containers. The herbs for use in the hen house are stored in large plastic bags in the freezer.

Drying herbs in the oven makes my house smell fantastic. It's quicker than the traditional method of hanging bunches of herbs in the basement or garage, which (for me) usually results in messy bits of dropped leaves and stems. Give this a try!

Bee Hatch

The red hive in the foreground and the green hive in the background are both exhibiting new hatches of bees. Notice most of the bees are taking short flights in little circles right at the hive entrances. These are known as orientation flights as the new bees get to know their surroundings. Soon these bees will begin taking longer flights.

Although the hives are slimming down in preparation for winter, it's good to see new bees and know that the queens are all alive and well.

Fall Crops

One of the challenges of urban farming is learning how to keep all the garden beds productive through the fall months.

This morning's harvest was a continuation of late summer crops---tomatoes, beans and elderberries. About two dozen butternut squash remain on the vines. The fall-bearing raspberries ("Heritage Everbearing") are producing heavily, unlike the summer raspberries ("Nova" and "Latham") which produced almost nothing. We're not sure if that is the result of a harsh winter or uninformed pruning.

After harvesting potatoes, onions and garlic in mid-summer, I replanted those beds with bok choy, spinach, Swiss chard, scallions and beets. Most of these were started by seed in the greenhouse and were ready for transplant when the root crops were harvested. This is the tricky part---knowing when to seed so fall crops are ready to transplant to available beds. I've found that sowing fall crop seeds in the greenhouse in early July is helpful, and sowing seeds outdoors in the beds no later than mid-August is most productive. Any later than that, and our daylight is just too limited to get those seeds germinating even if the weather is cooperative.

Now I'm off to the kitchen to process my crops for winter storage.

Growing Shallots

Shallots have never been a part of my menu planning. I've heard of them, especially when watching cooking shows on television. But they are difficult to find in the grocery store and quite expensive for something described as a "mild onion." Just use a little onion or scallion, right?

In December I decided to educate myself about shallots so I added them to this year's garden plan. I chose Zebrune shallot seeds from Seed Savers Exchange. Zebrune shallots are a heritage variety from France. It's called a banana shallot because of its long shape. The bulbs are pinkish-brown and store well.

Just after the new year, I sprinkled shallot seeds in four inch pots and placed them under lights in the basement. Each time their green tops grew a few inches tall and began to flop over, I would give them a little haircut. In early May, I gently teased the little bunches apart and planted them individually in a raised bed outdoors. They grew tall and strong and without drama. Last week I harvested them and placed them in the sun to dry.

Truth be told, I can't quite figure out why this is a big deal. Shallots grow every bit as easily as onions and scallions. The bunnies and chipmunks leave them alone and they don't require any attention at all. It's a no brainer. If you haven't tried growing your own shallots, I recommend adding this to next year's wish list.

Man's Best Friend

If you've ever visited Red Bucket Farm, you know that we have a loud and protective dog. Beta is a German Shepherd mix. She came to us in 2006 after having survived a couple of different shelter situations. At first Beta was afraid of nearly everything, but given time and love she slowly recovered. Beta is occasionally helpful on the farm, herding chickens and chasing squirrels. She's in charge of farm security, but mostly she's just a good companion.

Over the last several months, we've noticed that Beta no longer enjoyed her daily walks around the neighborhood. It came on gradually. She didn't seem to be afraid of anything necessarily, but she didn't want to go outside very much at all. As the spring rolled into summer, her reluctance grew even more. By June, she refused to walk entirely. I would hold her on the leash at the end of the driveway and she would simply refuse to move. I finally gave up and left her alone, abandoning our daily walks. I knew she was physically healthy, but I wondered about her mental health. Eventually, we got her to the veterinarian for a check up and we decided to put her on anti-depressant medication for a few months.

Beta is much better now, but after some reflection, we don't think her recovery has much to do with medication. We suspect that Beta has been protecting the human she loves the most in the whole world--my husband. In early June, Mr. Red Bucket had his right hip replaced. The previous six months were painful for him as the cartilage in his hip wore away entirely. Of course the rest of the family was willing to walk the dog, but some people prefer to persevere in pain rather than sit around. Using trekking poles, he would walk slowly with the dog trailing behind him.

Recovery has been sweet. My husband and the dog walk every morning. Beta's ears are up, her tail wagging, and she's leading the way once again. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Three Sisters

Hundreds of years ago, Native Americans planted a trio of complementary crops: corn to grow tall, beans to vine up the corn stalks, and low growing squash to shade the root systems. This trio is known as the Three Sisters.

We've grown pole beans and squash together at Red Bucket Farm for a few years, but this year we added corn, the third sister. I was reluctant to grow corn because it encourages raccoons, and heaven knows they don't need any encouragement. But I could hardly resist a little package of corn seeds known as Blue Jade, a miniature plant with ears of sweet steel-blue kernels that turn jade-blue when boiled.

This raised bed is growing nicely. The beans are indeed crawling up the corn (see the photo above). It's important to keep a close eye on the beans, as they grow from toothpick-size to the size of a cigar seemingly overnight. The ears of corn and the squash are still developing. It's a different kind of sisterhood!