D-Day

So we've hired and we've advertised and we've fought the mortal enemies and the fickle foes and now comes the big test.  Now comes the big test.  It's finally here.  D-Day.

Last week I ran missions preparing the farm for opening day.  Thursday I went to Southern Container to get some pulp quarts and pint clamshells to put berries in.  Friday I spent all day on the road to Greensboro to Lewis Shipping Company to pick up flats from Mid-Carolina Packaging and to Hillsborough to pick up buckets and ice cream from Maple View Farm Dairy.  Not to mention the various errands around Goldsboro to get signs, pay for advertising, buy miscellaneous supplies, etc.  The Boy and I were on the road pretty much all last week. 

Finally it arrives, the day we've all been preparing for, Saturday April 16 2011, D-Day.  We knew all week they were predicting awful weather (remember, I'm a weather geek).  I wake up that morning around six thirty to you-pickers waiting on me.  I run out the door without even my phone in a rush to get there and let them pick.  My scale wasn't even out of the box.  My help arrives, Tiffanie and Keith (aka Red Robbin the hayride driver) and we get started folding flats and whipping the place into shape while the wind whips us into shape.  The bee man comes and we get an up close and personal look at the hive (this was super neat, even though the smoke smelled awful that they use to subdue them and the sight of all those stinging creatures buzzing around me and crawling around did give me the heebies, I persevered, got within a foot of them, and got some nice pictures, even one of the queen!)  All the while I've got the National Weather Service pulled up on my phone and we're watching the clouds just boil knowing something big is coming.  Saturday also happens to be my mom's fiftieth birthday (my mom is the best mom ever, without her and my mother in law I wouldn't be able to get half the things done I do) and my dad has planned a party for her.  So The Boy and I leave The husband, Tiffanie, and Red Robbin to it and go celebrate.  As I'm sitting there letting my food digest (in THE most comfortable chair ever.  I don't know where Uncle Pat got it but it's a-mazing.  He says he's going to use it to hunt in, I think he'll be doing more sleeping than hunting) I pull up the radar to see the line of storms at around the Greensboro mark.  The entire line is filled with tornado and severe thunderstorm warnings.  That's when I knew that this was for real.  Normally when the meteorologists on TV go crazy about severe weather it turns out to be nothing really, it's when they don't talk about it that it's bad.  This time they got it right.

All Hail the Queen!  She's the one at the top right corner of the knife.  She is all golden colored and has a longer abdomen from the others.

Creepy Clouds

Opening day U-Pickers

I get back to The Stand and we have some pickers who couldn't make it to the air show.  I'm watching the radar constantly.  When it gets to the Johnston county line and we start getting thunder, Tiffanie and I give up and pack up The Stand.  The Husband and I are freaking out because we just know we're going to get hail at least.  Strawberry slush anyone?  We've already resigned ourselves we will.  Power goes out before the storm hits and our phones are dying (that's the problem with smart phones, especially my Droid.  I can't use it a full day and it hold a charge.  I love it, but I'm glad I invested in a car charger).  The storm hits out of nowhere and the wind and rain are so bad I can't see out of my windows.  I'm staring at the ground, looking for the inevitable menace, those horrible little white balls of ice, hail.  Miraculously, I see none.

So this was how our season opened.  The next day we had no electricity at our house and they closed our road for no reason at all.  Like I said in an earlier blog, everything that can go wrong will, and it will, but we were so fortunate that we didn't get the worst.  Some of our fellow strawberry farmers in the county lost their entire crop, and that's nothing to the poor folks who lost everything.  My heart goes out to them all, and every time I look at our berries and my unscathed house I get goose bumps thinking about how fortunate we really were.   

Spy Games

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWGeRgFa-hI

The soundtrack above for today's blog says it all.  My mission for yesterday, should I have chosen to accept it, was to investigate the competition in order to perform a price and quality comparison.

As some of you know, our berry patch is opening for business this week.  I spent yesterday morning fulfilling my duties as vice president of part running (I do have to throw a shout out to Durand of Auto Parts & Supply of Princeton.  The Boy was absolutely thrilled to be in a parts store as usual and as I was checking out Durand gave him a little paper bag of Tootsie Rolls and a Hot Wheels Car.  It's yet another reason to patronize an independent retailer :)) and yesterday afternoon I fulfilled my duties as President of Two Mule Farms (it sounds way more important than it really is).  I made phone calls and when The Boy awoke from his seista, we went and ordered shirts and signs for the farm.  Then, I got the call, "an unnamed competitor (I'd tell you the name but then I'd have to kill you) has set up around town today, why don't you go and see how much they are charging?"  I accepted the mission before it could self-destruct.  Time for me to fulfill my duties as Berry Girl (my third career change of the day) and run reconaissance on the competition.

The Boy and I went incognito as just a normal mom and kid.  I wore normal everyday clothes, he had on his Bass Pro Shop t-shirt.  I disguised my face with dark sunglasses.  We drove out to a location I knew they had a small u-pick patch on sight in order for me to get the most information possible.  Once we arrived I realized I had caught the stand attendant off guard (ha!).  She didn't have time to get out of her car before I could sneak up to the stand.  It was completely full of berries.  I nonchalantly asked her the price.  I decided to buy what they call a flat to bring it back to the lair and study it.  I wanted to run tests to see how much it weighs and how does it fit into one of our buskets.  I wanted to see how many quarts are in it.  I asked her about the u-pick.  Once I have gathered the necessary surveillance I safely return to my vehicle and return to the lair to report on my mission.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not out on a vendetta against my competition.  I really have nothing but hope for success in my heart for all my local comrades in arms.  I believe there is plenty of business for all of us.  We've sold plants to them, we talk to them to see how their farms are coming.  We believe that by working together we can get further than engaging in a capitalistic blood sport over berry business.  However, the unnamed competitor I am speaking of is not really a local operation so I do not feel the least bit guilty for scoping them out.  The object of my mission was really just to make sure our prices are in line with what the rest of the county has.  I have no doubt that they have absolutely no idea who we are, and if they did they couldn't possibly consider our little farm competition.   

So what where the results of my mission?  I believe we may change the sizes in which we sell our berries.  We may move to the smaller flats and not even have the busket size we had last year.  This change is mainly due to how much easier it will be for us to handle.  The flats will stack easier, and it will be less overhead for us to not have to buy the buskets which do not stack.  Plus, it will be more efficent since we can pick them straight into the flats and not have to move the berries in the buskets (I'm always looking for smarter ways to do something), which will cut down on time and bruises to the berries.  This is still in a planning stage, as I have yet to purchase these flats, but I am pretty sure we will be moving to those, if not this weekend then next week for sure. 

Don't forget that we'll be open on Saturday!  Come check us out!

Y'all Come Back Now, Ya Here!

I remember the night we decided to open our farm up for agritourism (this is the part in the superhero movies where the audience learns of how the hero came to be 'super'; imagine a faded out image of this conversation with my voice narrating as a voice-over)  So, The Husband had decided to do the strawberry gig and he went to his first NC Strawberry Association conference (check out their webiste for some good information, recipes, and farm listings if you live too far to come to ours http://www.ncstrawberry.org/).  He came back choc full of information that I paid no attention to whatsoever.  Then he was talking about how a lot of these growers also do corn mazes in the fall.  He seemed excited about the idea so I said to him, well, if we're able to buy your grandma's farm, why don't we do a corn maze.  He looked at me like he couldn't believe the words that had just come out of my mouth.  I asked him if he thought that was stupid and he said he just never thought I'd want to do it.  From this conversation, Two Mule Farms was born.


One thing I figured out quickly was saying you want to run an agritourism farm and actually running it are two different things.  I learned from last fall was if it is going to go wrong it will.  We had bonfires that wouldn't light, straw that got wet, tractor batteries that died (this was a result of me learning how to drive one, yeah, that worked out well), school busses that ended up in the ditch, you name it, it went wrong.  Another thing I learned was that someone's gotta be the boss, and that someone is me.  I'm not a naturally bossy person, not a natural leader, so this is a continuing struggle for me personally, but sometimes you just have to put your big girl panties on and take over.  The most important thing I learned last fall was that I have some really incredible family and friends who stepped in when we needed it most, either helping us bodily on the farm, watching The Boy, or just giving us great advice. 


So, now we're coming into a new season.  We'll have berries in about a week (YIKES!!!) and I'm freaking out.  I have supplies to get, things to order, prices to work out (yes, my name is Emily and I am a procrastinator.  Procrastination is the root of all evil, I'm tellin' you).  We're trying to get the farm ready; we're ditching water, moved the stand for better parking, filling in holes and expanding the driveway so no more busses will end up in the ditch.  I'm trying to implement the things I've learned.  I’m trying not to stress, everything that can go wrong will.  Once I accept it and move on I can take it as it comes (yeah, still working on this one).  I’m trying to be the boss (another one easier said than done).  I have hired some great girls to work in the stand and in the field to free me up so I can make sure everyone has what they need.  Also, I can't forget my other job as errand runner extraordinaire.  Plus, we're going to be getting ice cream from Maple View Farms so I'll have to be running back and forth from Raleigh (hopefully a lot!).  Hopefully this will let me be free to handle those inevitable problems as they come up.


One thing about this quest I have embarked on that has genuinely surprised me is how much fun it is.  I really like having people come out on the farm and have fun.  Nothing makes me happier than seeing little kids running around playing like I used to do when I was younger.  Of course I want to make money doing this, I wouldn't be doing it otherwise.  Honestly though, I get so much more from just having people come out and have fun that that becomes a secondary purpose.  I feel more like I'm hosting a big party at the farm rather than working and that's what I love about it.  When people come, I want them to feel like they're coming to some relative's house for a reunion (just without the covered dish, that one great aunt that pinches your cheek, and the cousin Eddie type, 'cause you know everyone's got one of them stashed away on the family tree that you're hoping no one will realize you're related too).  So please consider this your formal invitation to come hang out with us.  I'm going to be having events here on the weekends, doing some fundraising for cancer research, treasure hunts for mothers day, military appreication.  Come and get a cup of ice cream and hang out in the shade in the picnic area or bring your kids to pick some berries and maybe find a nice surprise for yourself on mothers day weekend.  Or, if nothing else, just come laugh at the latest screw up, there's bound to be a lot of them.  We'd love to have you out, no matter the reason!

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

I've always been a bit of a weather nerd.  Okay, a bit is exaggerating.  I loved it, still do.  For a long time when I was little I wanted to be a meteorologist.  I checked out weather books in the library, especially about tornadoes. I was obsessed.  I think part of what drew me was that if I knew everything I could, I could protect myself from them.  I could help my family get to safety.  I would know what to do.  Whenever they predict us having bad storms and the like I'm glued to my computer, checking out my favorite websites and animating radars, trying to predict where the storms are going to go.  I go outside and look at the clouds and see how they're moving.  I always thought it would be the big storms that posed the greatest threat.  I never thought a calm clear night would really be my biggest worry.


It's on those cold clear nights when that dreaded enemy creeps up on you.  It's been lurking in our minds all year.  All spring it's been nice and warm and misleading.  We knew the shoe was going to drop sometime, but we hoped it wouldn't.  These last two nights it did.  These last two night the beautiful weather betrayed us.  These last two nights, it frosted.  (Insert ominous dum, dum, dum).


We started working on this Sunday.  We had everything planned out.  The Husband set up the overheard irrigation.  He and I put out row covers at the end that the water didn't reach well (yeah, that was fun.  The middles were full of water from Sat. night's rain and what was dry was slippery shoe sucking mud.  I have no balance, and I'm trying to pull cumbersome wet row covers over these plants without punching holes in the plastic or stomping on a berry plant accidentally, all while The Boy is whining because his hands are cold and The Husband is whining because I'm slow.  I told him he'd rather me be out here and slow than covered in mud and leaving when I fall down.  He shut up.) We stayed up late waiting to watch the weather (well it was late for him, and for me incidentally since Sat. night we were celebrating Lynette Howell's 21st birthday :)).  Of course all they could talk about was snow near the border.  All day I was on the net, checking out forecasts.  We subscribe to a service called Berry Alerts (through strawberryweather.com for any grower happening to read this) that sends us information about the weather and frosts and where they think it will.  From everything we gathered, no frost.  It was going to be cloudy which of course keeps temps up because the air is trapped under the clouds, and windy which wouldn't allow the frost to settle anyway.

Night One.  We set the alarm for two.  No change.  We set the alarm for four.  Big change.  It was clear and a low of 33 with 31 in some places and a north wind of 2.  The Husband gets up to check out the field and cut on the pump.  There was frost on some of the irrigation lines and a little light frost on some leaves.  I get on the Internet and monitor the temps.  The clouds roll back in around five thirty and we decide after looking at the forecasts it probably won't get colder and stop the irrigation.  The water is not freezing on the plants, so we take that as a good sign.  Yesterday I spend my afternoon slipping and sliding and sinking in six inch deep mud ditching out the middles (fun times!).

Shoe sucking mud



The Husband's solution to shoe sucking mud.
Cutoff waders.

Night Two.  Tonight, we have our game faces on, they're predicting 29 at the NWS, it's going to frost.  I make The Husband get a nap while I stay up to monitor conditions.  At eleven I see it's down to thirty six.  This is the magic number.  So I suit up and walk the field looking for signs of frost.  There's frost on the grass in the middles, but due to the black plastic we've planted the strawberries in the dew on their leaves has not yet frozen.  If I could have cranked the irrigation pump I would have, however, since I cannot, I have to leave the task coating the berry plants with ice to The Husband.  We start at 12 and after some minor issues (at one point he comes in soaking wet because he had to change a nozzle.  I have to try real hard not to laugh at that mental image) ice starts forming around four.  By six thirty when the sun begins to rise and things begin to warm the plants are coated in ice, making the field a winter wonderland.  I have a feeling I'll be ditching more today.

We're crossing our fingers for no more cold weather like last night for the rest of the season, but you can never be sure.  I remember once when I was younger it snowing in April.  The Husband doesn't like me to mention that.  We're thinking right now that we were able to save most of the blooms and berries we have on the plant now, and as far as I know we're still hoping to have berries in 2 1/2 - 3 weeks.  Hopefully.  





Making Allies



When I was a girl, I was afraid of honeybees.  Heck, I was afraid of anything with a stinger.  Especially those huge hornets that stand guard over my carport or my mom's barn, protecting their nest.  Those things will chase you in a heartbeat and they're so loud.  I'm always trying to act real brave, like the adult I am, but when one comes after me I run like an idiot.  Then look around hoping someone didn't see me do it but knowing someone is rolling with laughter watching me run around like a crazy person from a bee (that's alright, I feel like an idiot most of the time anyway, and if I were watching myself I'd be rolling so...who am I to begrudge someone a laugh?). 

Really though, honeybees are an insect we take for granted.  They're just kind of there, yet another bug you have to deal with.  It wasn't until I started dating The Husband that I realized they are actually essential to a plant, instead of an annoyance or a decorative insect for little girls clothes.  We need these little yellow and black bugs to fly around and pollinate our plants so the vegetables come out right.  Even the shape of the fruit can be determined by pollination.  You know those strawberries that come out looking like two berries grew together, or that have two points instead of one perfect point.  That is a result of how the plant was pollinated.  I think it's amazing that something that seems so insignificant can have that much significance.

So, every year we rent honeybees to put on the farm to pollinate the strawberries.  Our bee man comes and drops some hives off in a place where they'll get plenty of shade and water (I know this sounds stupid, but I never thought of a bee drinking water.  You can actually see them go to the river and hover just above the surface drinking water.  It's so weird) and they fly around the field from blossom to blossom getting that yellow pollen all over them and depositing it around to the different plants.  They are our allies in the fight. 

I watched a TV show on PBS about this (yes, remember, I'm a dork.  I watch PBS).  There are farmers in China who have to pollinate their pear trees by hand with the equivalent of feather dusters because all of the bees have been killed off by pollution.  The other farmer The Husband works for raises over a hundred acres of watermelons.  Can you imagine having to go around to each plant and dust the flowers with a feather duster full of pollen?  I have real bad allergies and I could sneeze right now just thinking about having to do it.  Scientists aren't sure why the bees are disappearing, but they are, and it could have real consequences for your food in the future.

I’ve been toying with the idea of keeping bees.  I think it would be good for the farm, it would be neat to show it to the kids who come out and visit, and it reminds me of my granddaddy.  Honestly though, I’m too chicken right now to do it.  It hurts to be stung, and I’ve never been a masochist.  I think this Berry Girl will just stick to running missions for parts and combating the mortal enemies.  We can let some other super hero who’s just a bit braver handle the six legged ally.

Allied Territory

Rain Makes Berries

When I was in college, I took Geology and Oceanography as my sciences.  I had biology twice in high school; I didn't even want to tackle chemistry.  Turns out I really loved it and even seriously considered changing my major.  Looking back I kind of wish I had.  What can I say; I've always been a dork.  I remember my professor saying that eventually water was going to become the most important, sought after, and fought over resources in the world.  When I look at last year’s crop, I believe it.  I think it rained maybe four times all summer and things, especially the corn, just dried up in the field never making a crop.  It was awful.  I see things like that and think, how can people not believe our climate is changing?


So what is that saying, when Muhammad won't come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Muhammad?  It's a proven fact that plants need air, sun, and water to live.  We have plenty of sun and plenty of air, and if nature doesn't provide the rain it's up to us to make it happen. 


When we first bought the farm, we knew we wanted to dig a pond to use for irrigation.  It was supposed to be a simple pond.  Well, if any of you know The Husband, you know it wasn't just a simple pond.  A month later we have a 20+ foot deep hole in the ground.  It was an odyssey to have the thing dug.  The up side was he got to use the excavator, which always makes his day.  Then comes the fun part, watching it fill up.  We knew we'd tapped into some underground streams, you could see them flowing in.  However, as mentioned before, it might have rained four times so the underground streams weren't exactly at capacity.  It wasn't until we got thirteen inches in just a couple days last September that it filled up. 


Then we had to get a pump to pump the water from the pond to the berry field.  In comes Berry Girl to save the day.  It took two missions to Clinton, but I was able to complete my objective and secure the necessary parts. (Everyone knows that superheroes must have a sweet ride to cruise to missions on, well, I have a Mercury Mariner.  Fitting pump parts into this thing was a challenge.  I think someone needs an upgrade, I'm just sayin'.) 


So now we have our pond and our pump.  As per usual, The Husband puts his over analytical mind to the task and comes up with a plan to lay pipe.  Him and his dad take on this mission (I will not have any part in this), and several arguments later the pipe is laid.  Fast forward to now.  Our berries are blooming, and we even have tiny green berries (!!!), so if it freezes, we have to a) cover the berries up with row covers or  b) run water over them all night long to create a protective coating of ice over the fruit so it is not damaged.  We choose option a usually.  So far this year that has not been a problem (knock on wood).

If you look right in the middle, you'll see a tiny little berry

Our problem is the dry weather.  I know, I know, it rained last week, it's supposed to rain tomorrow and Wednesday, but it's not enough.  We've had a dry winter and the climate forecast is for a warm spring (yes I look it up, I’m a bit of a meteorology nut too, I’m a dork remember).  We haven't forgotten last summer.  We're preparing to irrigate.  We planted our berries on black plastic which allows us to get the maximum effect while using less water.  Irrigtion is great, but it only holds out as long as the rivers/ponds/aquifers do.  So the next time you say, I wish it wouldn't rain, think about your local farmer and how sweet those berries are going to be in about a month.  Think about what you eat tonight when you sit down to supper.  Without rain none of it would be possible.  What is that song...rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey, whiskey makes my baby get a little frisky?  What if we change it to rain makes berries, berries make wine, wine makes my baby get, ah, well you catch my drift.

Mortal Enemies: Episode 2

I am a night owl, not a morning person.  It's so bad I don't even like to talk the first fifteen, twenty minutes I'm awake, but at nine pm I get a second wind.  I normally go to bed around midnight.  The Husband however is the complete opposite.  He falls asleep at nine-thirty on the couch and I wake him up at midnight to go to bed.  However, the past couple of nights I've been waking him up to go on covert missions.  He gets up and gets into his diesel truck and 'sneaks' down the tenth of a mile road between our house and the berry field, armed with his rifle, a horn, and an intense need for revenge.  The Objective: eliminating the threat posed by another mortal enemy...

The Deer.

When I was growing up I loved deer.  I liked that they are so pretty and graceful.  I liked the way they seemed to leap when they run.  I liked that they were kind of introverted creatures, like me.  However, I have learned that I bought into a myth.  The only time deer are introverted is when it's hunting season.  All the rest of the year you can find them grazing right beside the road, running out in front of your car, punching holes in my plastic, and mowing my berries down like a kid going through Halloween candy.

Deer hoof vs. Plastic



Every year we have a problem with deer.  It's normally worse with the sweet potatoes.  Deer love them.  When the vines have just been transplanted, they love to eat the tender shoots.  Later, when the potatoes are grown they paw them up out of the ground.  All of you hunters putting out deer corn, you need to be putting out sweet potatoes.  Trust me.

Now that the berries are right down the road from us we can keep a better eye them.  This is good and bad.  When you can walk out of your house and see them lurking towards your field in search of those tasty leaves, it can get under your skin.  Revenge for all those years of eaten sweet potatoes and berries infects you, and you find that you have turned from a docile farmer to a deer assassin (play any Muse track here, my suggestions: Assassin, New Born, and Uprising).  We've shot at them, scared them off, put up a fence saturated in disgusting deer repellant stuff (the fence actually worked until it got partially blown down by the hurricane force winds we had last week).

Hence the covert missions.  We ambush the unsuspecting creatures about one am, just as they're getting to the sweet spots.  It scares them off (although I envision them running in the woods snickering under their breath about what a sucker we are, waiting until we're back in the house and coming right back out for round two) and makes The Husband feel better so I guess all in all it's a valiant effort in the war against the mortal enemies.