Sublime

I discovered a couple of days ago that my city bee hive had died out. Not good news these days.  I had checked on it a couple of weeks ago, but had not opened it yet as it was well set up over the winter.  I thought I had substantial comings and goings of field bees this spring but when I checked on things early this week, it was bad news. To top it off, wax moths had eagerly infested the valuable non-foundation drawn comb frames.  The horror!

I am not a fan of the use of chemicals, and my freezer is packed full.  Normally one would put the frames in the deep freeze for a few days to kill the bugs off. So, I thought I didn't have a solution for this other than to let the frames and comb perish. It struck me like a bolt from the blue, a free association from another bit of homesteading skills.  Why not fumigate with dry ice?

Now that I have googled it, I find that this is not an uncommon solution. But, the idea came into my own head as a result of the grain storage learning I have.  If you want to store whole grains for months without insect damage, store them in a 5 gallon bucket with a lid and a chunk of dry ice.  When the ice melts into pure Carbon Dioxide gas, it displaces the oxygenated atmosphere and suffocates the pests in the grain. Huzzah!

The process is ongoing, even as I write.  The larvae are exiting the comb and dropping to the bottom of the clear plastic tote I have the CO2 fumigant in.  It is taking quite a bit longer than I imagined for the larvae to perish.  They must have very well oxygenated bodies, or a very low metabolism.  A few ants inside the box dropped within 15 minutes of sealing the lid on.  The sweet part is that CO2 is not a haz-mat.  It can displace the air you breathe, so it should be used with caution and not in an enclosed space.  Never touch any part of the dry ice with your bare skin.

Very simple setup;  infested wax frames, large plastic tote with tight lid (or some sheet of plastic big enough to seal as a lid), packing tape, dry ice (handled with gloves only).

Tape for the lid.

Put the frames in the tote, put the dry ice in, seal with tape, except for a small corner to let pressure out of the tote. The dry ice melts and turns directly to gas (sublimation) and displaces the atmospheric air.  Voila!  I plan on keeping it sealed overnight so I can be sure to get the larvae.  I am not sure what happens to the eggs or pupae as they appear to be in stasis somewhat.  But, we will see.

A bag of dry ice from the grocery store. Wear gloves.

I can put this comb directly into strong hives and the worker bees will clean up the mess.  Wax comb creation is a tremendous effort for the bees, so to cut their work short by giving them instant comb is a great idea.

Frames and Dry Ice packed in clear tote.

I must admit it is with wry pleasure that I watch these little maggot like larvae drop to the bottom of my tote!

I think the part that I am happiest about, was that I had divine inspiration all on my own on this one.  I connected the dots of past learning.  I realize that it is the victory of hundreds whom have already had this original idea before, and wrote about it on the Internet.  But, I did this without google.  What if there was no google.  As my dad always says "Learn everything you can, about anything you can.  You never know when something will serve you."  This is, in fact, sublime.

Tennessee Maple Syrup

Folks, it is officially over. Yes, my journey into maple syrup in TN is done for 2013.  The maple trees are now blooming and sap is no longer running.  I can hardly describe my happiness at discovering the massive ancient maple trees at the farm.  While growing up in MA, I had tapped maples with my father.  I never thought it possible to do such a thing so far south, in such a warm climate.  It is possible and we succeeded. There is a history of maple sugarin' in this part of TN. Most would associate maple syrup with Vermont or New England, but I am stubborn.

I mail ordered some taps from Canada.  Spiles they are properly called.  Stainless steel, the old fangled type that have hooks to hold buckets.  Nowadays many sugaring operations use tube lines and trees are interconnected to the downhill container collecting the sap.  Not for me.  I have to keep things as simple and critter proof as possible.  I used the method proven by my dad.  It takes a spile, a short section of tubing and a milk jug for each tap. We collected just over 16 gallons of sap from the few trees we used.

 This tree is over 30 inches in diameter and supported 4 taps. For those of you tempted to be more natural than natural...DO NOT USE ELDERBERRY BRANCHES as taps.  Elderberry stems contain a toxin akin to (or may be exactly) cyanide, and this is not something you want to ingest after concentrating it down by boiling.  Don't poison yourselves folks.

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All along the back of the fence line are many magnificent ancient maples.  The sap flowed well for a couple of weeks.  I watched the weather for days above freezing and nights below freezing.  The tell-tale was the sap weeping from new woodpecker holes in the bark of the maple trees. It was time to tap.





We knew we were not going to make a commercial effort at maple syrup production.  Most small farm efforts are best served by staying small.  We saved up 16 gallons of sap and began to reduce it down.  It took most of a weekend and probably far more stove gas than I care to account for.  But, the result was a quart of the finest tasting, but dark grade of maple syrup.  It is a fine treat for the children (and adults), whom are on their third maple syrup and pancake breakfast with this batch.  It is a fleeting sweet indulgence, in the most improbable of locations.



A Mighty Winter

Things go out of balance.  Things go awry.  2012 was a tough year on the farmstead.  Here at LJF we experienced a February where the weather turned to 80F and stayed there for 2 weeks, without rain.  All this just after having planted 500 white spruce Christmas trees.  We bucketed rainwater, having no well, and having none of the customary cool, damp TN February weather, to 500 thirsty spruce seedlings.  Needless to say, this heat stress slammed them.  We lost most of that planting.  It is depressing, as every single one of these trees was planted by hand.  Not a small task for us.  We had worked for days to do it.  It was taken out of our hide.  The loss of the crop was keenly felt.

So it was buckets, buckets, buckets.  Every day, every day, every day. Didn't work.  One does not plant conifers in the dead heat of summer.  This was a false summer, but summer weather it was.

The ticks absolutely thrived in this weather.  It is possible that they barely went to sleep for the winter in 2012.  The spring was spent with regular tick checks on all of the human and animal inhabitants of the farm.  It was nothing to close the day with a tick check and find 4-8 ticks on each person. 

I have already written about the rodent issue in a previous post.  The infestation of rats in the fields preceeded our arrival when we bought the place.  Our first effort at reclaiming part of the hayfield by bush-hogging revealed many rodents leaping from under the tractor in all directions.  I have to imagine that the local ecosystem is bountiful enough to provide for such a population, and that predators are few.

However, when we inserted our will into the equation, things went badly.  The invisible legion (I have to keep calling it that) crawled from below ground to wreak havoc on everything I did.  William and I apportioned our labor such that he would build farm structure, and I would tend to crops.  I was maddened by the removal of seeds from the ground in my garden plantings.  The destruction of vegetables at the point of harvest made me crazy.  I have already detailed this here so I will spare you the repeat.

2011-2012 was the year without a winter in my opinion.

But, this year is shiny with hope.  We have had snow, we have had sub-freezing temperatures.  I know if you are reading from northern states that you will now sniff at me.  For TN though as with the rest of the country, I think a "traditional" winter is important (for the environment and for people, whom are part of the environment), and it is just the thing we are losing during this epoch of Global Weirding.  As weather oscillates from the old pattern to the new pattern, whatever that turns out to be, we may see our customary farm plans fall apart if they do not take these changes into account.  However, resiliency and playing the averages has its limits.

My dream, and it is a small one, is that this cold weather will kill off some ticks, starve out some rats, and restore normal for one more year. Welcome to farming.

Rats!

Sometimes on the farm, we lose.  I could present an upbeat, wholly untruthful narrative about the way things turned out on the farm this year. And, if I did so, I would be lying.  We had our share of losses.  No corn, and as it turns out, a pitiful vegetable garden plagued in a Biblical fashion.  Yes, I would have to call it a plague; RATS.

I have always been aware of their existence on this farm but this past winter was especially easy and I noticed them jumping out of the way in front of my tractor when I mowed in early spring.

They haunted all of my dreams of abundance. I planted 50 of the most lovely, lush paste tomato plants one could ever hope for.  I tended them, put manure around their roots, limed the soil to a perfect pH and watched them grow, expand, set flower and fruit.  I staked them with a Florida weave, and the green tomatoes abounded.

Then, in the heat of summer, just when the fruit was taking on a nice blush of red, the plague attacked.  I entered the garden daily to find each fruit still green at the top and eaten on the red-tinted blossom end.  Grrr.  Ok, I thought, just a rat or two (there is never just two where they live in cities). Indeed they are a force of destruction, taking a few nibbles out of each-and-every-somewhat-ripe---tomato.  While they plundered the tomatoes, my beans grew nearby, untouched and unravaged.  Lucky for me my taste runs toward the “haricot vert” side and I picked probably 10 lbs of beans for the freezer.  I felt like I was winning. Why is it that I had to erase this last sentence and rewrite it because of Charlie Sheen? He does not belong in my paragraphs.

All went well until the bean shells swelled with fat seeds inside. Now there was a higher nutrient value within the seeds, and the instinct of these remarkable yet disgusting creatures lead them to the bean patch. 

Half eaten beans, just barely chewed beans, completely eaten beans and very, very few pristine beans left for me.

The beet seedlings; sheared off at the sprouted tops.

Carrot seedlings; gone.

Sweet corn seeds were snatched out of their rows in the ground. No sign of disturbance at the soil surface, just unrealized corn.  Again, corn is an abstract this year on the farm.

I checked the sweet potatoes, previously pushing their tough shoulders against the soil, and rupturing it in great cracks above as they muscled through the dirt.  All dug out of the soil, and eaten.

My heirloom squash seemed to be defiant.  Tough shelled and smooth with a reasonably large diameter, they resisted assault.  Fine pairs of flat chisel marks from rodent incisors began to appear on some of the fruit.  HA HA!  The vermin cannot bite the squash.  I quickly harvested all the ripe and near ripe fruits.  This may be a sign, and adaptive gardening measure.  One should only plant hard shelled veggies. Sigh…not the diverse and tasty garden of my dreams.

What is going on here?

The organic, environmental reason for this plague is an imbalance in the ecosystem.  Perhaps it is the warm winter we had last year? Perhaps it is the presence of Livestock Guardian Dogs keeping rat predators at bay while ignoring the rats themselves?  Perhaps it was the lack of a human presence pushing them back for the past 20 years? Who knows, but this year I am hoping for a mighty winter to descend upon these fields, and for balance to return to the farmstead.

Livestock Guardian Dogs

We have two full time working dogs on our farm.  One is a Great Pyrenees mix (with Collie I understand), and the other is part Anatolian and part Pyr, which part is which I have no idea. That's her in the back wearing the mask..

These are beautiful, true working dogs.  They won't win any pageants covered in burrs as they usually are. But they are on the job all day and all night.  Not much escapes their notice and they hear, see and smell all of the threats to their flock.  We were told by the breeders of our raccoon masked dog, Daisy, that she would grow up not really caring about people.  She was to care for the animals and not much else.  We have found this to be very untrue.  She loves people, and considers them to be equally as important to protect, especially kids.  When working on different areas of the farm, it is very common to have the dogs follow us, and just sit there watching as we mow, make fence, dig or plant.  We are part of the flock they are guarding.  When the kids go walking, almost always one or the other dog follows with them.

It is truly a safe feeling to be awakened in the night by their barks, and to hear them race off across the farm to protect against some other critter.  When you are tent camping, is is reassuring to hear them just outside your canvas wall.  They are awake while we sleep.  They do an excellent job, and we have lost very few chickens as a result.  One can lie in the dark, and listen to their two barking voices, each very unique.  Lexie's bark is higher, a bit raspy and squeaky. Daisy has the deepest most improbable voice for a lady, a rumbling low register, big dog bark. 

I am amazed by their camaraderie.  Lexie the Pyr mix, was brought in as an adoption. Her former farm could not handle her anymore as she was rumored to be chasing their goats. When she arrived, she walked out amidst our chickens, took up a commanding strategic location in the chicken yard, and went to guarding immediately. She has been a steady part of the team ever since.  Daisy arrived from her litter in Georgia as a 10 week old pup.  She did not guard right away, and took several months to mature.  At approximately 8 months old, the guard dog powers were activated. With the teaching example of the older dog, Lexie, she has become the finest of guard dogs.  It is impossible to teach these dogs to do what they do.  It is pure instinct.  It is unique experience to watch a creature fulfill what they are meant to be, and without any human interference.  When one dog darts away chasing something, the other is quickly up and away after her.

These dogs are not without their shortcomings however, and we have been working to teach them the boundaries of the farm.  It is in the dogs nature to maintain a secure territory.  Sometimes this means going on "walkabout" and taking the fight to the coyotes.  They dogs will wander, seeking to push the predators further and further away from the home territory. Often this causes them to "go missing" for hours.  For a caring dog owner, this is torture.  Every Pyr owner I have talked too can tell me a similar story.  It is a priority for the dog's boundaries to be clearly established.

These dogs are a great asset on the farm.  So much would be lost to predators without them.  They completely earn their keep.

Corn Crop Failure

My To-Do list got the best of me this year.  Or perhaps it was luck?  Just as the Midwest is reeling and crops are dying, we in East TN are having climate issues as well.  The month of June, I recorded only .65" of rain for the entire calendar month.  That is terrible I must tell you, plus for a good part of the month, the daytime high temperatures were over 100 F.  Almost unbearable to work in.  For sure impossible to grow corn in without irrigation.

In 2011 I planted about 1/4 acre in Oxacan Green Dent Corn.  I got it from heirloom seed sellers.  My hope was that I would be soon filling my corn crib, and building a seed bank to plant with continuously.  I saved two bursting 1 gallon zip lock bags with the seed product of that 2011 crop, fully intending to replant and expand in 2012.

It didn't happen.

I never got it planted.

Too much infrastructure building going on.  Too much bush hogging to do.  Too much of too much.  Not one kernel of green corn got planted in the ground.

I never thought I could ever be so lucky. 

Yes, lucky. 

The farm has no formal irrigation system.  The system is me with buckets.  There is no way I could have kept that crop alive through June, July and August without mechanical/petroleum powered irrigation.  I would have lost every last kernel in the weeks of 100 F and higher heat.

Now my two bursting gallons of corn seed are safe and tucked away in cool dark storage, waiting for next year. [Yes, with proper storage corn can be kept for decades, perhaps centuries as was discovered in the desert southwest]

So, a failure turns out not be a failure after all, but merely another chance to gamble with nature next year.

LJF 1,  Nature 0--- But Nature bats last.

Untold Riches

Fall is nearly here, the sun is slanted low in the sky.  The evenings have cooled from their uncomfortable highs of summer.  And, I have hay in the barn.  Hay from my own property. This hay also brought some beautiful friends into our lives. The man we hired to mow it, brought his wife to help us load it into the barn the next day. A blessing, a gift of labor, and we are pleased to now have them as friends.

It is wealth from the bottom of the food chain, the most basic of blessings, the kind of bank that can keep a farm and feed all the animals and people on it.  I am a wealthy woman indeed.