Summer Coats for Shearing Day

Hamilton is ready to meet the shearer.

Our little herd of alpacas was visited by our shearer this morning. Before she arrived with her able assistant, the alpacas were gathered into a small pen close to the shearing site that was carpeted with plenty of fresh green fodder. Last year they had to wait until quite late in the season to be shorn, but once the temperatures became unseemly warm this past April I believe we've all been counting down the days to Gerdi's visit.

Van's coat rolls off smoothly as Gerdi works.

When our female alpaca, Van, came to the table, her full, soft fiber rolled off smoothly in a lush blanket.

Alpacas line up for an after-shearing scratch.

After the shearer left, the alpacas lined up to scratch their sides along the branches of a young cedar tree. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but it seemed to me that they were relieved to have been unburdened from their winter coats.

Visiting Barbara's Garden

Color surrounds this delightful house.

I do love visiting my not-too-distant neighbor and Wilson County Master Gardener friend, Barbara. Her multi-generational household is inspiring to visit, yes, but it's the peace and tranquility of her garden that speaks to my soul. The colors, textures, and vistas offer a sensual symphony that our farm--as enjoyable as I find it--is years from providing.



A view of Barbara's garden in early May, 2012.

True, she has many hands to help her out on her daughter's farm and the contributions of this multitude of participants yield breathtaking results. After she started lining garden beds with rock--an abundant resource throughout Wilson County--her daughter, son, and grandchildren got involved. The results speak for themselves.

Barbara's produce tastes as sweet as it looks. Yum!

On this day I was once again a recipient of Barbara's unending generosity and went home with such a bagfull of organically-raised lettuce that we'll surely be feasting for days. Thanks, friend!

Greedy Goat or Glutton?

Marcie goat with her head caught in the hollow stump.

This morning I am extremely thankful for having such wonderful neighbors. Yesterday afternoon when I approached the home pasture fence, most of the goat herd poured down the hill to greet me; however, even after I had rustled the feed cans, Miss Marcie did not appear.

She's not one to hop fences or wriggle through tight gates (unless she feels the effort will be worth her trouble, in which case she can squeeze through just about any size opening). As such, it was odd that she did not appear at the sound of potential feed.

Looking uphill, I saw that she was busily feasting upon the Virginia Creeper topping one of two tall rotted-out stumps in that pasture. After hopping the fence myself, I went to investigate. She was quite engrossed. As I got closer I realized that our prized dairy goat had gotten herself hung up in the tree stump, and was close to hanging herself!

She must have lost energy after getting her head wedged into a V through which she had obviously reached in search of tasty morsels. Indeed, I lost energy trying to push her close enough that she could un-catch herself. Then I tried yanking the rotted wood enough to make an opening through which she could extricate herself, but that did not work either.

Luckily, our good neighbor Tony was about, and he heard my yell for help and hurried right over. After momentarily studying the situation, Tony began tugging at the wood as I had. While he worked the stump, I worked the goat. Marcie was free! Even better, Tony had the foresight to do more than free the goat, he saw fit to topple half of the tree shell, removing the possibility of any future accidents.

The herd rushed uphill to taste the vines Tony had brought to ground, and I gave thanks for having such a wonderfully helpful and wise neighbor. I had not even considered trying to break apart the tree to prevent future calamities. Thank you, Tony!

As for Marcie, like most of our goats she is greedy; however, when her greed leads to death-defying stunts, I'm thinking that her level og greed qualifies as gluttony. I'm thankful that Marcie the glutton is alive and well to tell her story.

Self-Watering Planters

Basil transplants in pot retrofitted with self-watering conversion kit. The float appearing at the top of the water-fill tube indicates that the water reservoir is currently full.

On Tuesday I set out to make some self-watering planters. Having purchased some very handy retro-fit conversion kits from Gardener's Supply Company last month, I have been busily setting up planters to accommodate container crops this summer. Unfortunately, I measured wrong and wound up with several wonderful one-gallon retrofit kits that will not work for the some of the planters that I had slated for the task. As such, the time for making my own retrofits had arrived.

Retro-fit insert, ready to go.

The kits I purchased are specifically designed for round planters of a certain size. Placed in the right container, they work beautifully. 

Correctly fitted inserts, ready for potting soil and plants.

The over size round planters we have will require larger collars around the inset in order to fully contain soil above the reservoir. The square and rectangular planters will require suitably shaped inserts. The kits come with enclosed water reservoirs, a fine mesh screen bottom through which roots and moisture can interact, a fill tube--with cover, and a float that indicates when the water level has dropped. They are beautifully designed. 

Planter in progress with building materials.

Planter in progress, with wicks inserted. (Base will move deeper to contain more soil before planting.)

Our homemade attempts are less aesthetically pleasing. Using materials already on hand, they reflect my haphazard style of designing on the fly as opposed to careful measuring and fitting. On Tuesday I had time to design one (very rough) rectangular planter that held water nicely. Although I had thought to use the rectangular planters for quick-pick salad crops--spinach or lettuce--what I had handy were pole bean seeds, so they got planted.

Windowsill seed starters.

Each wick masterfully transfers moisture in these.

The models for the wick theory performed better than expected. As I did not want the planters to remain wet, but rather simply moist, I limited the wicks in the large planter to just three. After all, the single wicks in the windowsill bottle models have remained quite wet. Indeed, the bottle model will wick up water quickly even without potting soil in the top portion.

Planter, completed and planted, holds water well.

Once planted, the rectangular planter filled nicely. Although I had hoped that the wicks would be enough to moisten the entire bed, a day later I discovered that they are not suite to the task. Perhaps the tight fit of the windowsill models served to assist the wicking process. I will have to rework this theory, or break down and purchase some mesh-type plastic for the insert between the soil and the water.

Tomorrow is another day. We will be revisiting this challenge in the coming days and weeks, as time allows. Unfortunately, time is ever short. Although we can allow hours and half-days for working the soil between tending the animals, studies for school, work off the farm, cooking and leisure, we can no longer give whole days to any one project of challenge.

For now we are looking forward to Saturday, when Cynthia will be facilitating a Composting class at the Gardens of Babylon nursery at the Nashville Farmers Market. Please join us at 10:00 am if you are in the neighborhood.

Sparrows, not Bluebirds

Birdhouse with parent bird in attendance.

The baby birds in the bluebird nest box are sparrows. This was decided yesterday, when a sparrow was seen tending to the nest. Parent birds make themselves scarce once they detect humans about, so the photos were taken from the front porch.

Smaller bird atop fence.

Although I tried to capture the strange interaction I had been observing between the parent bird and the smaller bird on the fence, by the time I got close enough to snap a photo the birds detected my presence and separated. What I saw was the larger bird repeatedly alighting atop the smaller bird, and doing what? I could not say.

Parent bird, perched at a distance, with an eye toward the intruding human.

The interaction was not sexual, I am sure, because it was repeated several times as I approached (trying to remain undetected, and failing miserably). It was almost as if the larger bird was encouraging the smaller bird to move, but when I got close, the smaller bird flew off with ease--so I discarded the notion of flying lessons.

A peek inside reveals little, although I do like the Guinea feather toward the back.

Later I approached the nest box and peeked inside. Rather, I allowed the camera lens to peek inside. Although the parent bird had earlier perched at the entrance, I detected no inhabitants. Perhaps the interaction had been that of a parent coach to a fledgling. The last time I had the leisure to sit still and watch flight lessons, I lived in a Northeastern city; at that time I saw fledglings watched by adult birds, but I do not recall such direct contact.

Anyone with greater insight is invited to share some thoughts. I would appreciate the feedback. Thank you!