Dirt Dawg Nursery & Lasagna Iris Bed

A corner of Dirt Dawg Nursery's Garden of Eden.

This afternoon we visited Dirt Dawg Nursery, just over the line in Watertown. Owned by two Wilson County Master Gardener friends, Jennifer and Jeff, Dirt Dawg Nursery is a little piece of heaven. Indeed, so Edenic is the site that they're hosting a wedding later this spring. When a friend visited, she dubbed it "The Garden of Eden" and declared that this is the site where she wants to be married; her wish shall be granted.

We went for the iris sale. As the nursery is only open on weekends and by appointment, when we learned they would be featuring iris that afternoon, why, we hopped into the car and tooled on over there. Do we need iris? No, but they are beautiful plants--and I learned something new today, too. I never realized that iris flowers have a fragrance. Jennifer introduced my nose to a heavenly lemon-scented flower and I fell for it, hard. Even though we're on a strict budget, I still managed to bring home six new plants.

Molly-dog supervises plant placement.

Before sundown I had made a "lasagna bed"for them, planted them, and even fenced them off from our oh-so-helpful chickens that turn every new bed and fresh pile they can find. Lasagna beds come in different flavors, but mine are generally a variation of the following recipe:

1) Line the ground with several empty Edwards Feeds bags to smother what's already growing on the site.

2) Layer on some corrugated cardboard (aka haute cuisine for redworms--the magic is in the glue, pure protien!)

3) Layer on some inches of used bedding; add some manure (it can be fresh because it's below root level); consider maybe a sprinkle of "water saving" crystals; then add a handful of worm castings, worm cocoons, or plain old worms; and, of course, a layer of fresh soil. If you have clippings or leaves--composted or not--layer these beneath the soil topping, too. The more layers, the deeper (and richer) the bed.

4) Add plants and put the bed to bed.

"Poultry fencing" (aka chicken wire) ensures plant safety.

If you prefer to keep the soil unturned--although the chickens do a mean job of turning gardens, I must say--it would be wise to add some obstruction to keep marauding chickens away. They're just trying to help (themselves to the food you set out for plants).

Then, pat yourself on the back and walk away. Tomorrow perhaps I'll add a splash of raw milk (we're sure to have some about to go bad); that'll help the mix considerably.

Thanks, Jeff and Jennifer! We had a delightful afternoon and we love our new plants!

April Showers

Our quiet branch of Spring Creek rages and roars.

We have had rain this month. The steady downpours this afternoon left our little branch of Spring Creek swollen into a raging torrent. The weather forecast is for even more rain today and tomorrow, accompanied by some severe weather. We feel for the victims of the 2010 Nashville Flood and imagine they're looking out with trepidation upon this morning's weather.

We are thankful to be located on high ground. Although we missed seeing the crest last year, when the water had completely submerged our front fence, we're quite aware of the power of Nature's fury. Our thoughts and prayers today are with the families battered by this weather, and for whom the rains present more than just a photo opportunity. Stay safe, everyone; ride out the storms on high ground if at all possible.

Easter

All is ready for the Easter Egg Hunt!

On Easter Sunday, 2011, P&CW Organic Farm again brought goat kids to a church in Nashville to visit. Last year the Nigerian Dwarf goat kids were a hit, especially Graham who was then only hours old, orphaned, and being bottle fed. This year the Boer / Nubian cross kids were a week and two weeks old, respectively, and while they created a stir--those teens and tweens who remembered bottle-feeding last year's kid were sorely disappointed.

Stroganoff bleats in the arms of an admirer.

 The younger children, though, were enamored with this year's floppy-eared visitors and eagerly interacted with the kids for a time. Stew, Stroganoff, and Chili Pepper were just the right size to be picked up and carried around by little girls. When the kids and children were tired of running about and being stopped to pose for pictures, we packed the kids back into their traveling crates and ferried them home to the farm and to their fretful mommas.

Perhaps we'll plan to hatch chicks to bring next year.

Springtime in the Neighborhood

Wisteria in bloom.

The greenery has been unfolding around us at an amazing speed this year. Each time I look up, I believe the leaves are fuller, the trees' shapes are more rounded, and new flowers are in bloom.


Our neighbors graze quietly beneath the trees.

For the most part I do not think to pull out the camera to record the sights, at least not until I have passed them by, but some days the camera sits at the ready, willing and able to record spring's progress. Since my camera, the one with which I am most familiar, is on the lam--still, many shots are throwaways. Blurred beyond recognition, or too dark or light, they do not bear saving for future use.

The irises that I divided two autumns back, then moved to new spots along the driveway, are blooming along the old fenceline. They see me off and welcome me home, and I think to snap their likeness about the time my car has pulled up through the front gate and parked alongside the iris bed. But by then the shot is marred by the presence of the car or truck, so each day passes without the irises' blooms recorded. (Indeed, for some months I was convinced that these plants would never bloom again, but each stem sports multiple ruffled, bearded blooms this month.)

Lucy enjoys a new delivery of thistles spread across a bunk of long-ignored grain.

Perhaps the best part of spring, though, is the return of fresh forage after a long winter of hay, hay, and more hay. Indeed, the horses do so enjoy the juicy thistle plants I cut for them, that they have taken to passing up grain in favor of the prickly plants. (Yes, they do get out to graze on green pasture, but their shelter is back in the mudlot so they occasionally return to that paddock for a time.)

After so many months of inadequade forage, it's a pleasure to watch the animals enjoying fodder as it unfurls beneath their feet or along so many branches. Welcome, Spring!

What's Bugging You?

Stroganoff & Chili rest up at home before their night on the town.

After our county extension agent extended the invitation, our kids were elated to return to visit the Wilson County Master Gardener 2011 intern class this week. When I lifted the red tub--used to tote them--into the pasture, little Lisa scampered over. "Pick me! Pick me! I want to come, too!" she seemed to be saying. Poor gal, the tub was full with just the Nubian kids and she got left behind this week. (I did make sure to tell the class that Lisa had been quite eager to come back to visit with them.)

Kids practice trimming ornamental shrubbery.

During the first portion of the class, the kids romped and played outside, waiting to be invited in at break. I enjoyed their company, but was sorry to be missing entomologist David Cook's presentation about local insects and plants. His talks are always fascinating.

Stroganoff bonds with the chairwoman of the intern class.

At the break, the kids entered the building and made the rounds--being cuddled, snuggled, and petted by just about everyone in attendance. I enjoyed listening to the conversations flowing about the room, especially hearing the interns who were present last week informing the newcomers, "Those are meat goats." What quick studies our 2011 interns are!

A case of plant galls, one of David Cook's traveling displays.

The thirteen-year cicadas are back! (Our guineas will love them.)

Exotic cicadas from Thailand, another of David's displays.

Leslie's Kids

Week-old Stew (left) stands near his newborn playmates, Stroganoff and Chili.

On Sunday morning when I headed out to the barn, I was relieved to see that Leslie Lupine, our other Nubian doe, had finally kidded. The poor gal had been getting heavier and heavier, and her bag had been getting fuller and fuller for some time now. Indeed, on Saturday evening I had threatened her that if she did not kid within twenty-four hours, I would begin milking her--something I preferred to avoid because the newborns fare best when they get their initial colostrum directly from their dams.

When I first spied the finer-boned bay colored kid, I mistook him for a female and joyously named him Ada. After singing Leslie's praises for some minutes while I puttered about doing chores, I noticed a heavier-boned golden tan kid propping himself up against the side of the barn. A glance from behind reassured me that we had two new doelings! I was thrilled; however, when I picked them up to cut and clean their umbilical cords, I saw that I had been mistaken in my initial assessment.

Ada was promptly renamed: Stroganoff, and the presumed-firstborn kid was dubbed Chili. We will enjoy these kids for however long it takes them to reach market size. Considering how much Stew gained in just the space of a week, he may be ready for the spit by Cinco de Mayo--which is just around the corner.

An Afternoon at Second Life Farm

The cabin at Second Life Farm.

We enjoyed a brief respite on Sunday afternoon when we drove up to Second Life Farm, not far from the Kentucky line, to visit and eat and soak in the scenery. Located at the end of a long gravel road, Second Life's farmers enjoy privacy and solitude. The homestead there is quite charming, forty-some acres of gently rolling fields and woods, bounded by streams, occupied by our friends and their pack of canine characters.

Almost as good as the food--which was fabulous, and the company, were the antics of the dogs. One little guy claimed my lap nearly as soon as I settled onto a couch, then spread his paws over both legs as if to indicate that the entire territory was his. Later, when someone snapped a photo of "Alf" on my lap, a graying lab-mix immediately launched herself onto the couch. She promptly curled up against my hip, them turned to the photographer as if to say, "Take my picture, too!" Funnier still was how, as soon as the flash went off, she launched herself back off of the couch--her photo opportunity complete. It had never occurred to me that a dog might want to sit for a portrait.

A canine-human conversation-in-progress.

These canines are well tuned to their human companions, and attend to the conversation flowing around them monitoring for mentions of food or other items of interest. Our afternoon was enhanced by the pleasant, four-legged residents. Indeed our few hours away were a delightful respite.

Thank you, friends!

Guineas on Patrol

Guineas on patrol.

Now that tick season has arrived, all five of our guineas are out and about. They range far, covering the area from the barn to the road each day, tirelessly patrolling for bugs and grubs, and watching for danger at every turn. It's nice to hear the "buck-WHEAT, buck-WHEAT" call of the females moving about the farm again. The sound takes the edge off of the males' raspy "ack, ack, ack, ack, AACH!" alarm. As I sit indoors and write this, I can hear their commentary through the now-closed door; they have strident voices.

Guineas sounding the alarm from the kennel rooftop.

As I was leaving the other day, the flock was ranging down by the front gate, moving swiftly. I was reminded of the numbers of guineas a neighbor has lost because the birds choose to range out onto the highway only to become roadkill. The four sturdy boards of our front fencing, and its welded-wire lining have kept our flock safe so far. But they can fly over it in the blink of an eye. I'm hoping the bugs and grubs inside the fence keep they satisfied, so they won't feel the need to venture into the road.

As the temperatures rise and the grubs emerge, our guineas should be well entertained within the boundaries of our farm. I'm hoping they choose to remain close to home throughout the season.

Weaning Janet

A dirty, winter-shaggy Janet enjoys spring greens while running loose.

Miss Janet, our nearly-two-year-old paint filly, has been running beside her dam since birth. Separated briefly for farrier visits and such, the two have always become reunited with enthusiasm.

Now that spring is in full swing here, indeed haying season is practically here, everyone wants to be on greener pastures. Well, Miss Janet got her wish a few days ago.

I brought her out on a lead to graze while beginning her end-of-winter grooming. Our horses are still shaggy from winter, although with the arrival of warm weather coats are thinning. Because I had not had the foresight to grab an actual halter and lead, Miss Janet came along on our usual lead: a couple of strands of baling twine tossed casually behind her ears. When she danced and pranced, I wrapped the twine over her nose and gathered the lot beneath her chin, but she still was under the most casual of controls.

At some point, after having filled much of a bucket with her rapidly-shedding coat, she ducked out of the baling twine restraint and made a break for freedom. I kicked myself (mentally) for having passed up opportunities to trade in the twine for a real, solid halter and lead. For probably an hour the filly enjoyed trotting around out of my reach. She would graze serenely until my chores brought me close, or I intentionally approached her, then she'd dance off a bit and resume grazing.

Miss Janet in her improvised enclosure beside Goldie, an alpaca.

After a while, though, I corralled her in a small enclosure, set in the deepest of grasses, attached to the alpaca enclosure. She stayed there happily for a good while, but not forever. No, when she got tired of that, she popped over the lowest of the fence panels (and it was low, more of a suggested boundary than an actual fence) and roamed free again.

I began thinking of her as a possible hunter/jumper prospect. Before the sun set, though, I settled her into an enclosure behind the garage--with fence panels tall enough the contain her and with her dam just across the driveway. She was somewhat distressed at the separation; however, being contained in a heavily-grassed paddock seemed okay to her, too, and she settled down. Periodically she would look over to her dam and appear anxious to leave the paddock, but the fence was high and she was still fenced-in when we went in for the night.

Miss Janet is being officially weaned. And it's high time, too.

Now, I'm starting to see visions of her sailing over poles and across brush jumps on a hunt course. Hmmm.

Kids Visit 2011 Wilson County Master Gardener Intern Class

Nigerian Dwarf goat Lisa waits with a Master Gardener at the rear of the class.

Tuesday's Wilson County Master Gardener intern class listened to our local TSU Agricultural Extension Agent, Justin Stefanski, present university-tested methods for controlling weeds and invasive plants in the landscape. He did a fine job of presenting the information--mostly about chemical controls, but his talk was interrupted by the presence of two of P&CW Organic Farm's kids.

Stew snoozed through the class.

Lisa and Stew attended to make their point about totally organic control methods that are fun and friendly, too! Although Lisa belongs to a Sumner County Master Gardener, she was available for the engagement, which was good because Stew slept through most of the class. Occupying various laps, he did a stellar interpretation of the original boneless goat.

When the lecture reached management practices for such invasive plants as honeysuckle and kudzu, Lisa trotted forward to have her spokesperson (me) interject a word. Kudzu, honeysuckle, even poison ivy can overcome a property when left alone, but all can be controlled using caprine (goat) managers. Each of these plants provides a good food source for the animals, and they love helping out on the farm!

Lisa takes the floor.

After two mini-demonstrations on the production of natural fertilizer and one on irrigation, little Lisa took her leave, allowing the good-humored extension agent to finish his class.

Lisa and Stew attended because they knew that Justin and colleague Shelly Barnes are spearheading the Wilson County Sustainable Agriculture Coalition, so that despite his chemically-based lecture, he would be open to the introduction of alternative, organic methods. Thanks, Justin!

Church Greens

Pamela and Marcie savor the green treats with gusto.

When Jimmie trimmed the bushes in front of the church last weekend, he was good enough to gather the new-growth clippings into a feed sack for me to bring home to the farm. I'm not sure what type of bushes are planted in front of the church, but I discovered that while the goat gals fussed and fought over any new bunches being presented to them, they lose interest quickly when too many treats are offered at once.  I guess it's the "grass is always greener" principle--that anything they don't have is wanted, and that which they can reach is promptly overlooked. Silly goats.

Chickens in Springtime

The young rooster once assigned to the fenced coop ranges freely about the farm.

We've been enjoying glorious spring weather of late; however, this weekend has been hot. Not all of us are faring as well as the chickens. They know to take dirt baths in the shade when they need a break from feasting and foraging about the farm.

A hen works at preparing a new garden bed.

In addition to feeding themselves, they are also helping turn the newest garden-beds-in-the-making, roughing up and turning in the fresh compost around established plantings, and keeping the worm population in check. Of course, the latter is a "service" they perform for their own benefit, as we would rather have the worms available to work the earth as well.

This worm escaped detection by working beneath a planter/shield.

The young rooster that we assigned to the chicken coop area is strutting his stuff without incurring the wrath of PrettyBoy, the rooster at the top of the pecking order. I enjoy seeing his gleaming red plumage; there's something rather spectacular in his youthful presentation. We hope he can continue to coexist beside PrettyBoy. The enclosure around the coop keeps predators out, but the chickens clear it with ease and return only to sample fresh layer mash, or to lay or set upon eggs.

The young roo supervises his companion hens.

Although the clarity of recent photos suffers because most are taken when I'm not wearing glasses and so I am not seeing images clearly before shooting pictures, I do hope the general idea of the colors and shape of life on the farm can be enjoyed by others.

Congratualtions, Pamela!

Pamela's meaty new buckling, Stew.

Miss Pamela got the drop on me. Early this morning she bore a big, red, meaty, singleton buckling. He's a looker, to be sure. I'm amazed by how much chunkier he is that her first kids. Her prior breeding was to another Nubian and her offspring had the fine legs and bone structure of their momma. This little guy is very obviously Hank's offspring.

For one, he's heavy. I would have liked to have weighed him today, but chores sidetracked me before I could look to see where the scale might be hiding. His name, most appropriately, is Stew. Credit goes to our operations manager for selecting a name that's short and sweet, and that promises to be tasty.

A family portrait. Hank, behind the fencing, watches Pamela and Stew.

For another, he has the thick legs of his meat goat sire. So unlike his dam's finer Nubian bone structure, little Stew shows off his part Boer heritage in the thickness of his legs.

Pamela keeps a close eye on her new kid.

Today was a hot one. The air was thick and cloying. After I had moved Pamela and Stew down closer to the house, Stew promptly took refuge in a shady spot and slept the day away. Momma grazed close by, often stopping to check on her little one and never straying far.

Congratulations, Miss Pamela, on your fine new kid. Mmm, mmm, Stew.

Ladies in Waiting

Dairy does heavy with kids.

For well over a week now I've said each evening, "I think Leslie's going to kid tonight." Each morning I've looked out to see our big dairy does still carrying their kids. I've been basing my predictions on the fullness of the Nubian does' udders. Although does may come into milk a week or more in advance of kidding, I've seen some--mostly the little breeds, those we've now sold off from the farm--come into milk one day and kid the next.

Now Pamela is looking quite full and rounded. She bore twins last spring, as did our other dairy does, so I'm expecting twins from each of them again. Leslie's udder is fuller and see looks wider, but Pamela has that full bottom line going on--accentuated by her color patterning.

With Marcie I'm not sure when she's due. At first I expected all the dairy does to kid in April, but then a couple of months after the fall breeding Marcie again appeared open and Hank was on the job. Since we need to pull her kids off of her before she even licks them dry, this not knowing is a problem. That Caprine Arthritic Encephalitis can be passed to her kids through her milk and we want to pull her kids immediately to prevent passing along the disease.

For now, we are watching the Nubian does more closely. I'm expecting Leslie Lupine to kid any time now, and Pamela Chrysanthemum won't be far behind. This morning brought no new kids. We're waiting and watching, eager to see what their breeding with Midnight Hank will produce.

Patience.

Another Herd Sold

P&CW Farm's myotonic goats leave for Oliver Springs, Tennessee.

This afternoon the remnants of our fainter herd hit the trail. We sent Mary and her pals off in the care of a nice couple named Joanne and Hugh, to a farm that's already fenced and cross-fenced--it just needs some goats and now a livestock guardian. They'll make a pretty herd over time, as they have the peach-and-white buck Brad Pitt and the sturdy tri-color buck Joshua who originally moved here from Mt. Juliet. The other goat who also came here from Mt. Juliet, Mitzi, went with Joshua--although her kid Josie stayed behind with Cocoa's kid LA (or Lisa) because the latter two are scheduled to move to Portland to be with Todd (now Toby) and Kendall. Both of our Numbers girls and their pal Sarah left today, along with Sarah's yearling Carla. Oh yes, and Feenster was in the truck as well.

Now that the grass is lush and green and we've made it through the thin cold days of winter we sold the little goats to give us time. Once Josie and LA move, we'll be down to a manageable herd of three does and the sole buck Midnight Hank.

Poor Hank, he has spent the last several days knocking heads with Brad and Joshua, enough so that he seemed to forget to miss his does--moved away from him as they should soon kid. I'll have to figure out how to keep him occupied. Maybe he'll adjust to a work schedule of consistent mowing--all that grazing might get his mind off of the gals.

Although I will miss the characters so many of those goats were to me, these sun-filled days give me plenty of chores to keep me occupied so soon they should be just happy memories.

New Directions

Bully & Sting (behind the brush) sample spring greenings.

We've come far since the day we arrived on the farm with a scruffy cat and two geese in the back of our truck. We've learned so much about livestock and feed, forage preferences and grazing practices, fencing and willful animals, and--of course--the joys of animal husbandry. We've learned about overgrazing, parasite loads, housing for hens, and managing water supplies. We've come to know our animals--as livestock, yes, but also as individuals and some as friends.

Thumbelina adds to an afternoon's lengthening shadows.

The decision to move away from the small goats and concentrate on our large dairy herd was a long time in the making, but now the changes are here. On Sunday we dispersed our Nigerian Dwarf herd. The last full blooded kid went to a young family in nearby Watertown. MollyMoo left the farm wrapped in the capable arms of a young woman whose burgeoning pregnancy spoke of joys to come in her household. Later in the day the remainder of the herd--BullyBob & Sting, Thumbelina, Jennifer, and Cocoa, Evelyn & Theresa were loaded into the trailer of a family now beginning their own adventures in goat dairying.

Crippled Evelyn sips from the pool while her dam, Cocoa, stands in rear.

The herd will be in good hands. Their new caretakers brought young grandchildren to help rustle the herd into their trailer, and their care for the creatures was evident as we worked to gather the herd together. The goats will be well cared for, even loved, as they were here. We're glad to have placed them all together and so well, but I for one will miss the characters I've come to know so well. My buddy, stinky Bully, who faithfully followed me about the farm like a dog, always eagerly looking up whenever I approached--he will be missed. The does with their individual personalities, whose bleats I could recognize and with whom one could hold conversations of a sort since they responded to their names and often answered when greeted individually, they are missed already.

Our large dairy does are heavy with kids.

But there's no time for reminiscing. The Nubian does--Leslie Lupine and Pamela Chrysanthemum--are close to kidding again. Some wild weather blew through Middle Tennessee today requiring fast adjustments to pasturing arrangements be made in the pouring-down rain. And garden beds are being readied for planting. With fewer goats to mind (and more animals for sale) we plan to focus more on planting and crops--greens that we can eat, not merely watch the goats devour when they get loose.

Stay tuned for tales of the ever-changing landscape of our little hillside farm.

Hauling Hay

Sun glints off the windshield while horses taste their new hay in the background.

I'm so proud of my little farm truck. So what if she's a 1985 Japanese model with two-wheel drive and a regular gas engine? When I hooked her up this morning and set out to get hay in Watertown, as she bumped along with her little home-made trailer in tow, I began to realize that she's much frailer than the Ford F-250 with which we have been picking up hay. This gal has an advantage though because the Ford has a cap over its bed. Driving on the flat, my little Isuzu should be the better hauling truck; however, the roads are a mite bit hilly around here, and our hay storage is located on top of our hill--above even the barn.

While tooling along the road to the Shipper barn, surrounded by the beautifully greening countryside, we sailed down one hill and passed a heavy-duty logging truck chugging uphill. That's when I began to get concerned. I'd picked up hay in the truck along, before, but would she surmount the inclines towing a trailer loaded with hay?

Playing it safe, we loaded her lightly and the guys who helped to load her followed me back to the main road after we left. Why was I worried? My little truck made the journey easily, not once toiling as the logging truck had done earlier in the day.

The horses, goats, and alpacas were glad to see us return, with another week's worth of hay (actually more) in tow. I was glad to have made it home safely and with the needed feed.