Confession

I love Pintrest and someecards.com.  Always entertaining.

Alright.  It's confession time.  I got chased by the bees (I think I promised someone a blog about this).  

Anyone who's been on our Facebook or read this blog before probably knows I'm a little fascinated with the insects.  I just think they're amazing with their instincts and social structures and little dances.  With all the swarms and the proximity of the hives to the stand I've felt pretty proud of how brave I've gotten.  I'll walk right up to the hives to take pictures.  I see them in the field and think nothing of it.  Well, on the day of our last swarm, I got a little too close.

Usually I'm not there when they swarm.  This day, they started as I pulled up.  I was excited because I've been wanting to get pictures of this since the first swarm.  it was cool until they started coming close, then my and the girls at the stand ran for our cars.  Two of us climbed into mine and I held my phone to the window to get pictures.  It took a couple minutes for them to pass over us and when they did I started the search for where they went.  I heard them on the other side of the irrigation pond, so after a few minutes when they didn't seem to be flying so much, I decided to find where they pitched.  

The view from my car.  Yes, those black specks are all bees...and this wasn't our biggest swarm.

I could hear them buzzing loudly from at least fifty feet away, yet still I felt determined to get my picture.  I bravely (stupidly) continued stalking them down until I reached the tree on the edge of the pond they pitched on.  They weren't calm.  Some of them had landed, some of them were flying.  I slowly walked to them with a calm demeanor.  Usually, if you don't freak out, they won't attack.  Well.  This wasn't a normal day at the hive.  They were still worked up from swarming, and one (or more I really didn't take time to count) started bumping into me (kinda like sharks do before they eat you, or so the Discovery channel tells me).  Bees will run into you if they find you a threat, and this is a warning for you to leave now before they sting.  Well, my mama didn't raise a fool.  I took the warning and turned around and started walking away (disappointed, because I still didn't have a good picture of the pitch).  Apparently, I wasn't walking fast enough, because I could still hear the bee flying around me and still feel him bumping into me.  That's when reason and rationality left me, and I started hauling a** across our parking lot, shrieking and yelling, phone in one hand, pants in the other (I've been trending to looser pants, but that's another story).  I felt a little like Winnie the Pooh being chased by the swarm (except that there is absolutely no way I am jumping in our irrigation pond.  I shudder to think about what I might catch in there).  All of this is done much to the entertainment of my girls in the stand and the pickers, who happened to be in the field right there (I think I provide a lot of entertainment for them).  It's not until I get to the other side that I no longer hear the bee chasing me and I can stop, and then I stand there for fifteen minutes catching my breath and laughing at how dumb I just was.  Oh well...there's always one.  That day that one was me.  

I did go back later, when they were calm, and got my picture.  All it took was a little perseverance.

30,000 bees pitched on a tree.  At least they all didn't chase me!

So, about the looser pants.  Well, come about December 28th, there will be a new addition on the farm.  We're expecting our second baby!  I guess that means I'll have to come up with a new nickname.  Right now, since we don't know the gender, it's Sea Monkey (just add water and watch it grow!).  I have a feeling that just like The Boy for our son, it will end up sticking.  

The Highlight Reel

To say this season has been busy would be the understatement of the year.  Seeing all of y'all has been great.  We've met new customers and neighbors and got to catch up with old ones.  I love to see how children grow and families change and know I've been a small part of that.  The crop's been good too.  Our berries have produced triple what they ever had, we opened three weeks early and are looking to go to almost the end of May.  Here are some highlights of the season, since I really haven't had time to settle down enough to blog:


Every day we take the berries we aren't able to sell, or the ones who don't look the best, and cap them to freeze them and sell them to a dairy.  I took some today.  92 2.5 gallon bags went in the back of my father-in-law's truck and were then transported an hour and a half northwest to Hillsborough.  It doesn't matter how fast you go though, when you get there the bags are in various stages of melting.  So when you get finished not only are you covered in red strawberry juice, it looks like you've murdered someone in the back of the truck (the last time The Husband made a run a highway patrolman followed him for 10 miles.  Coincidence?  Maybe.  But he drives like a grandma and I've never seen a highway patrolman who didn't speed so...maybe not).

I think I need a better way!

Saturday was mother's day and our annual treasure hunt.  It was an absolutely beautiful day to pick berries.  Around lunchtime I was out getting lunch for the employees (victims) and while I was gone the bees decided to swarm again.  I noticed they seemed to be 'acting' weird all week, coming out to pitch on the hive, not flying in their normal patterns.  Instead of swarming earlier in the day when we were not as busy or later even they decide to do it right at lunchtime while we have a family enjoying their lunch underneath the tree they decide to pitch on.  

Notice the thicker blobs in the middle of the picture, that is the latest swarm

We've had some really great groups out this year.  It's been another learning experience for me (my motto is to go with the flow, and we've done a lot of that this year!).  I'm used to speaking to older groups, schools and other groups of older children who have had experience sitting down and listening to someone talk.  This year I had a number of preschools/daycares, younger children who haven't had that much experience.  The first group that came baffled me completely.  Then I realized I had a great resource right there in my hands.  The NC Strawberry Association offers Strawberry Activity books and the first few pages explains how strawberries grow in preschool terms.  From then on I read the book until I memorized it (this I can remember but I wash my phone in the washing machine?).


Our CSA boxes started going out the end of April.  Again, it's a learning experience.  That first week The Husband called everyone (I'm much more of an e-mailer, facebooker, or texter.  He refuses to join the twenty-first century and this is THE one area where I appreciate it) to make sure they were happy with their boxes.  I'm hoping in the next few weeks we can add more variety and have more quantity too (there are only so many cabbage or radishes one can eat).  So far it's been great and I really love the idea that I go pull the onions that morning and someone's eating them that night.  It's great.

Week 2 Box

So, that's the season in a nutshell.  It's been great.  I hate strawberries officially until October now.  The smell was fantastic for week one, now it makes me sick.  Now we embark on our next adventure...produce!


Oh!  And I'm already planning my new punkin' chunker' 

Photo Shoot

One of my photography friends posted the other day that not everyone with a camera is a photographer.  This is a very, very true statement.  I've never been a big picture taker.  I used to like to do it when I was younger.  I think it had more to do with being old enough to have my own camera and all.  It lost it's appeal to me as I got older.  I was always too interested in the things I was doing to remember to take pictures.  Even now with The Boy, I see these moms constantly following their kid with the camera taking pictures or videos, you know the ones I mean, the ones with those really nice big professional looking cameras that take awesome pictures, the ones who have their kid pose every five seconds so they can photograph every second of whatever activity it is they're doing (now, if you're one of those moms please do not take offense.  One day you'll have all these memories to blackmail your kids with) and there I am with my Kodak or my phone only remembering to do it because they are.


However, now, I am chief photographer of the farm.  I take these pictures for three reasons.  One, if I was looking for a place such as mine to go, I would like to see pictures of said place before I arrived.  Haven't you ever pulled up to a place and it not been at all like what they described.  You think it's going to be completely awesome, and you pull up and the grass is knee high and there's some random dog hanging around and the building looks like it's falling apart and you swear you hear banjo music in the background.  I want people to be reassured that won't be the experience they'll have here (I did spend three hours cutting grass Wed. and we just built a new shelter and the only banjo you'll here is Mumford & Sons, but there might be a random dog.  Three outta four ain't bad right?).  


Two, education.  Most of the pictures I take never see the light of day except for my power points, which, incidentally never see the light of day either.  I try and take pictures of every stage of everything we do so I have it to demonstrate what I'm talking about with farm tours (The Husband teases me because I call it stock footage).  Sometimes the things we have to do are hard to describe, if you see a picture you understand better.  Plus I like for people to see what's going on here, maybe they'll learn something just by looking at the pictures.  It kind of ties in with reason number one.


Third, advertising.  I love taking pictures of ripe berries and putting them online.  I know when I'm looking at recipes on Pintrest or watching the Food Network I can be completely full and get hungry simply on the power of suggestion.  Even I can't look at a full flat of fresh ripe berries without my mouth watering a little, and I don't even like strawberries (Oh! The horror.  I know.  Sometimes having a discriminating palate really sucks).

Case in Point!

I have a new respect for wildlife photographers.

So in case you were wondering, yes, it's me taking those pictures, and yes, I'm doing it mostly with my Droid, and yes, I did follow that bee around from plant to plant for at least five minutes trying to get a good picture of her on a flower (so yes we now know our bees are working, or at least, that one was) and yes I have tons more.  At some point, hopefully in the near future, I'll have a projector so I can actually show these pictures to people when they come for tours.  And if you ever see one you have a question about please ask.  I would love nothing better than to explain it to you!  

Side note - we're opening Monday!!!  Finally!!!  I think if we don't The Husband will spontaneously combust.  So come by and pick a flat or two...you might catch me taking a picture!

Countdown

Well, strawberry season is fast approaching (thank you climate change).  In two weeks we will be picking berries.  After months of watching, waiting, plotting, and face planting daily in the field (I literally do it every time I go out there.  I don't understand why.  I watch my step.  I grew up jumping tobacco rows and walking down middles but it never fails.  The other day The Boy saw me do it and started face-planting for fun.  I guess it's pretty much hopeless for him.) they're finally getting ready.

Which means I'm about to explode with anxiety.  I was met with this in the field just a few minutes ago:

First one of the season!  Yikes!

The Boy said "oh.my.gosh.  That's a red berry!"


There is so much to do.  I have to talk to my girls and get them lined up to work, order containers to put them in, make sure the signage is ready, start marketing, book groups to come pick, make sure I have coloring books, line up things with the dairy, order shirts, deal with The Manic Husband, update the website/facebook/twitter...you get the picture.  My mama always said that hindsight is 20/20 and I believe her.  If I'd have known I'd be responsible for all this, that I'd be running an agritourism farm, I'd have definitely gone to business school.  Ninety percent of the time I feel like we're the blind leading the blind.  And every year we add something new and different that we've never done before, like produce and the CSA, so we can't get comfortable and think, yeah, we've got this.  So while The Husbands running around like "Wow! We'll have strawberries in two weeks!" thinking about eating that first ripe one, I'm like "wow, we'll have strawberries in two weeks" thinking about all the things still on my to do list.

I am excited though don't get me wrong.  I'm ready to see people out here enjoying the strawberries and having kids come though the farm tours.  I'm excited about our open house and the recipe contest and possibilities there.  I'm ready to start packing CSA boxes and (hopefully) hearing about people enjoying our vegetables and seeing pictures of the awesome things they cooked with them.  I'm excited about that wonderfully fresh sweet scent that you can only get with real fresh local strawberries.


That being said I hope you're counting down the days like we're counting them.  Come out and see us in a couple weeks for those first ripe berries.  Bring your kids out to pick while you're on spring break and let them run off some energy with us.  We'll be glad to have you!

Sleep Tight

So, things are really ramping up on the farm.  This warm winter is pushing everything up, including strawberries.  They've been blooming since December and it's already time to worry about frost protection.  This past weekend we had an arctic blast again, therefore it was time for either a) overhead irrigation or b) row covers.

See the black spot in the middle of the flower  - that's what the frost does to the berries.

Last year we did some overhead irrigation but it's not our preferred method of frost protection.  You have to put so much water on the field and everything becomes a sloppy mess.  Not to mention there are some diseases that are spread easier by the water running through the field (it touches one plant, and then runs down the plastic infecting every plant in it's path [like Outbreak for berry plants, did you have to watch that in hs biology?  I did.]).  So this year we got enough row covers to cover all of our berries, thanks to the helpful folks at the Soil and Water, and Saturday was our first time putting them on.


Saturday morning we had the help here pulling weeds out of the strawberries and off the plastic (there are some that grow up the sides of the plastic, eventually covering the berries.  You see the problem.  I have pics, but that's probably another blog for another time).  The Husband was running around as usual, and I was ditching the water that fell Friday out of the middles (there are places it's shin deep).  We should have been filling rock bags to hold down the row covers.  In the past we've used sandbags.  This year we have this roll of netting that we are supposed to cut to the appropriate size and fill with rock and tie both ends.  it sounds easy right?  Yeah, in theory it is.  In practice, that netting is cumbersome to stretch and difficult to tie.  I got the idea to use zip ties instead of tying them (it's that kind of plastic that it doesn't matter how tight you get it, the knot can slip out).  Still, me working alone was not producing enough bags.  After lunch we got everyone involved, and still it was not going smoothly (and it was driving me crazy).  That's when the Husband decides that we need to lay one out to see how many rock bags we need.


Alright, so remember how windy it was Saturday?  Well, these covers are the texture of that black landscape fabric you put down for weed control, just a little thicker, and they catch the wind like you wouldn't believe.  We load the roll of material like a spool on a contraption mounted on the end of a forklift, and The Husband and another worker grab the end and walk Santa-style to the end of the row.  Again, it's a lot harder than it sounds.  The rows are narrow-ish and uneven, not to mention the covers catch the wind like a sail on a boat, so not only are you hauling the weight of the covers (which are surprisingly heavy) but the weight of the wind blowing them around (alright confession time - I did fall in the mud.  I was holding one of the covers so one of the workers could hold it down for a shovel of dirt when the wind unexpectedly got in it and it dragged me down.  I had to laugh at my own self at that one.  Too bad I didn't have the camera out then).  When we got to the last row near the path, The Husband got the idea to tie the end of the cover to the gator so he could drag them out with it, it actually managed to work (despite me saying 'this is going to be bad' like a mantra and cringing).  Too bad we couldn't do that every time (I did get a short video, but I had to stop filming to make sure it didn't tangle, so it really wasn't worth posting).  Once we, they, get them out we have to spread them out to cover four rows.  At that point we realize it's going to take 40 - 60 rock bags per cover with this wind and we have 20.  The Husband comes up with the practical if not far-sighted idea (now we have holes about every foot or two, some of which are almost a foot deep, that we'll have to fill in somehow so you won't break your neck in the field) to use shovel fulls of dirt to hold them down.  It takes all afternoon, but we manage to get almost all of the rows covered.

There's more than one way to skin a cat

The Spool - Forklift contraption

It reminds me of snow...without all the mess.

Yesterday we took them off, but it looks like first of next week we'll be putting them on again.  It won't be as hard, just pulling them over the rows, but still I hate it.  Still, we have to do what we have to do, and yesterday The Husband found one of the first potential berries.  So get your mouth right, 'cause we'll have berries the first of April!

First berries :)

Plan D

So, I believe I promised a post on the lovely potato planting experiment.  Let the hilarity ensue...


Thursday the Husband informs me that Saturday we're going to set out the first half of the potatoes we want to set.  This means that Friday, we had to cut up 10 50lb bags of potatoes so we could plant them.  With sweet potatoes, you just plant the entire potato in the ground (actually you kinda lay them on the ground tightly packed together) and cover them with plastic.  In a couple months, voila, you have plants you can transplant in the field.  With white potatoes, we have to cut the potatoes into pieces, making sure each piece has an 'eye'.  We started just before 9 am and he finished around 3 pm.  So my carport looked super lovely with pieces of seed potatoes spread out on tobacco sheets everywhere.  

Diligently Cutting

Saturday morning started out at 90 mph as usual.  We had people coming at 10 to help get them set and we had to get them sprayed with insecticide and loaded on the transplanter before they arrived.  The Husband had this grand idea to transplant the pieces just like you would a plant.  He even rigged up this PVC pipe thing to make sure the piece got down into the setter without the worker having to lean all down to do it.  Well, we got the potatoes loaded and the people on the transplanter, and we went about ten feet before the first one yelled that his piece was stuck.  For the next five feet I think we stopped every foot with someone getting stuck.  It was decided at that point, after much heartache and colorful language, that The Husbands lovely invention was a dud.  We jerked them out and the workers had to lean down and place the piece in the setter.  That worked for about ten more feet.  They didn't quite understand the object of what The Husband wanted to do, and the pieces kept getting stuck.  So when plan A and plan B failed, The Husband implemented the never-before-mentioned plan C and yelled for me to drive.


I've driven a tractor.  I drove the hayride some last year and will probably do so again this spring for our farm tours.  Driving a tractor is one thing, anyone can drive it in a straight line, it's like mowing grass.  Driving it with a trailer isn't difficult either, you just have to watch your turns.  Driving it while it's hooked up to a machine that is carrying eight people who are planting things in the ground is another.  Not only do you control the direction and speed, but this machine moves up and down to control the amount of dirt knocked off the row and implants potato pieces.  I already have two strikes against me: a) i'm not coordinated, just ask anyone who has ever seen me attempt any sport whatsoever except maybe skiing, and b) I have my irritated Husband attempting to explain this to me on the fly.  I do okay except for the raising/lowering the transplanter part.  Apparently there is this 'sweet spot' you have to hit between knocking too much dirt off the row and not enough, and amazingly I cannot determine where that spot is while The Husband shouts directions at me over the hum of the engine.  I'm either knocking so much dirt it's slowing the tractor down or I'm not knocking enough.  I don't want to give the poor folks on the transplanter motion sickness, but for some reason even though I'm being super easy every time I push or pull on the lever to raise/lower the machine it jerks up and down.  At any rate, I only drive for a row and a half, at which point The Husband decides he can't take another meltdown and since it's not working that well anyway he abandons the transplanting idea and breaks out the buckets.  I maintain that if I was properly schooled in the whole knocking off dirt thing it wouldn't be difficult to do.  The Husband maintains that I am banned from the transplanter. 

View from the Top

Sometimes you have to cut your losses

In the end, it was really quicker for us to do it manually i.e. plan D.  The Husband drove the tractor down the row knocking it off, the workers placed potato pieces, and he went back with a cultivator to cover them up.  Problem solved.  Potatoes planted.  Now in three weeks we get to repeat the process, hopefully without so many bumps in the road.


I really hate to know what plan E was...

A piece of the puzzle

Not all of my 'jobs' are glamorous like pulling weeds or thinking up new ways to chunk pumpkins. I'm also chief errand runner.  Today I had to go to Agri-Supply in Greenville (I could have gone to Garner, but I hate that store and I hate going to Garner) for plow parts.  I hate going to parts stores.  First off, you get there and the place never looks quite on the level.  There's never anywhere to park.  There's a minimum of two doors, neither of which are clearly marked.  Then you get in and the place has this smell.  It's difficult to describe, something between grease and oil and diesel fuel and mixed with thirty year old dirt and dust.  Every single one smells like that, regardless of you're going to pick up a starter or plow points.  Even the chains like Advance.  Inhale deep next time you walk in one.  You'll see what I mean.

Then comes the worst part of all.  You walk to a counter surrounded by men that you just know are looking at you like a complete idiot and attempt to tell them what you need.  I learned the hard way, I now request specific descriptions (this in itself is perilous for those of you who know The Husband.  He is the king of long, rambling stories that end up confusing more than informing.  Especially about something I know nothing about so I am completely dependent on his knowledge.  Yeah.  Scary.).  Still though, they never fail to ask a question I never anticipated and I end up saying words like 'thingy' or using phrases like, 'I think it's the thingy that goes on the end of the thing' and sounding like the exact stereotype I try to avoid.  

Finally, after at least two phone calls (because he never fails to not answer the first one) and a lot of blank looks on both our parts, I have the part and I'm praying it's right.  Today wasn't so bad.  I had a diagram to show the guy at the parts desk and he went exactly to the right place and loaded up my cart.  The place did smell like the grease-dust-oil combo, and there was perma-dirt on the floor, but everyone was very nice and helpful (much better than the one in Garner) and I think we were in and out of there in twenty minutes.  All in all it was one of my best part store experiences hands down.


So this is probably not one of the most illuminating blogs ever, but it does go to illustrate a point. A puzzle is made of many pieces, we needed the plow parts so the plow would work correctly and the ground would be right for the vegetables we're going to plant and grow for you to eat.  Getting the plow right was just a piece of that larger puzzle.