Easter: Such a Joyful Day

What a nice Easter we had here at Farm Dover. The only thing missing was Mary, who is busy finishing up her senior year at MICA in Baltimore.

My Lasagna Garden

While Ed's focus seems to be on watching an inordinate amount of NCAA basketball, I prefer to spend my time planning my garden. If a game gets really exciting, I've given him orders to call me in to watch the last minute or two.

This morning, I attempted to create my first lasagna garden. It's something new I'm experimenting with this year on just a small portion of my big garden. It's a no-dig, no-till, organic gardening method that I am hoping will discourage the humongous weeds that overtook the far side of my garden last summer. Maggie is my number one encourager and was out there this morning helping get me organized.

Even though I plan to grow all kinds of things that will find their way into a pan of lasagna, the name refers to the method of building the garden by adding layers of organic material that will "cook down" over time, resulting (I hope) in rich, fluffy soil.

Like with lasagna, we started with a base (sauce) of compost, that we spread straight on top of the dead-weed portion of my garden. We followed it with water-soaked cardboard (the noodles). Then added another layer of compost (sauce).

From there, it was followed by 8 inches or so of straw (filling), followed by another layer of compost (sauce) and a final layer of straw (cheese).  Here's what it looks like at ground level.

I'm planning to let it cook down for a couple of months before planting anything in it – perhaps a crop or two in late summer. If it works, I hope to expand it to a larger portion of the garden, and eventually, I'm thinking, it would be great to have the whole garden done this way. Time will tell. I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, I'm searching my favorite cooking blogs and cookbooks for vegetable lasagna recipes.  I've asked the Easter Bunny to bring me Deborah Madison's new cookbook called Vegetable Literacy. I bet she's got a good one in it.

I think I hear Ed calling me. Evidently the Michigan/Kansas game is getting excited. Better go check it out.

Loaves & Fishes

A Simple Good Friday Dinner

Beep. Beep. We're Back...

Just back from a trip to Big Bend National Park (in southwest Texas, bordered on the south by the Rio Grande). From doing our part to keep Austin weird, to adding more than a dozen birds to our life list, to remembering the Alamo, touring LBJ's ranch and Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center, the trip was all around a grand success. More later, just wanted you to know that we are happily home.

beep. beep.

There is something growing in our basement

The tomato, kale, chard, marigolds, lettuce, cilantro, parsley and basil seeds are planted and tucked under strange lights in the basement. Big thanks to Maggie.

Dover Road: Pretty as a Picture

Our half-mile gravel drive spills out at Dover Road. The narrow country road has never looked lovelier than this morning with the daffodils in bloom, the sky blue, and Dover Baptist, striking in its white clapboard simplicity.

Cheer, cheer, cheer

At least that is what this bird's song sounded like to me...

Good Land, Good Living, Good People

I love our Fridays at Farm Dover. Weather permitting, we work outside for a couple of hours and then head to town in the truck. (Town being Shelbyville, not Louisville.) We run errands along the way.

First stop today was the Shelby Country Recycling Center. Every couple of weeks we load up the pickup with our recyclables, separated into glass, plastic, cans, slick paper, newspaper and cardboard and drop them off at the 7th Street North center. I love this place. It is always neat and orderly; the staff cheerful; and I feel like I've done a small good deed for the environment.

Next stop: McKinley's Bread Shop and Deli. Located on Main Street, it's our favorite place for soup and and a sandwich. The ladies behind the counter always remember that Ed likes a strawberry shake "to go," so they watch to see when we are about finished with our lunch before heading to the back kitchen to hand dip a shake for him.

From there, we usually walk down the street to the Sixth and Main Coffeehouse to pick up a take-home brownie or scone and to browse their book collection – a wall full of new and used books, with a particularly nice Kentucky section.

We then take care of any other downtown business. Today, we mailed a package at the post office, renewed our truck license and picked out two audio books at the library before heading over to Rural King for jumper cables and Kroger groceries. Sometimes we'll walk through the Main Street antique stores, searching for first-edition books, cast iron cookware, baskets, or anything else that we just can't live without.

Once we finished our Shelbyville errands, we headed back to Simpsonville, via US 60, stopping at Metzger's Country Store for three bales of hay for the garden. Then it was on to Cottrell Farm Equipment Inc. for some bar oil and help getting the chain saw back in working order. Cottrell's is one of my favorite places in Shelby Country. It is an old-fashioned, family-run business and seems like everyone in the family works there, including the Cottrell brothers and most of their sons, Renee (daughter-in-law), Connie (mother). We bought our zero-turn mower, our chainsaw, our trimmer, and chainsaw protective pants there. In return, they have given us two bright orange STIHL bill caps and a ridiculous amount of advice. I'm sure when we leave the shop, they break out laughing at our lack of farm equipment knowledge.

I recently learned that Shelby County's motto is: "Good Land, Good Living, Good People." I concur with all three claims.

Starting seeds vs baking cookies. Cookies win.

I've spent the last few weeks dreaming of our spring vegetable and flower garden. My dream sequence goes something like this: read every bit of copy in a whole stack of seed catalogs – drool over the options available and turn down the corners of the pages that peak my interest; organize last year's seeds that may still be viable; make a complicated Microsoft Word table of what goes in which garden, the seed source, and whether it needs to be started indoors, or if it can be direct sown; order seeds. The dream phase is over. Time to wake up and get to actual work.

Yesterday, being a warm and sunny afternoon, Jack helped me spread compost over the big garden and in our two raised beds. Together, we planted a gooseberry bush that has languished in a Tupperware® bucket all winter and then Jack spread Holly Care, an all-natural organic fertilizer for acid-loving plants, on the hydrangeas next to the cottage. 

This morning, being a cold and rainy morning, I turned my attention to getting some seeds started. First things first. I opened the small box that came in this week's mail from Johnny's Selected Seeds.  

Inside were packets of peas, bush beans, beets, sweet peppers, hot peppers, radishes, tomatoes (3 heirloom kinds) zucchini, and carrots. Also included were poppies, sunflowers, zinnias, and marigolds – for my cutting garden. In addition to the seeds from Johnny's, I'm also planting ones left over from last year: kale, spinach, lettuces (5 kinds), swiss chard, sweet potatoes, gold potatoes, jerusalem artichokes. Still to consider are the herbs that I'm planning to grow: parsley, thyme, dill, cilantro, rosemary, oregano and mint.

Just reading this list, I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I've been a bit optimistic about the size and diversity of my garden, but I can't bear the thought of eliminating even one of these plants. 

My plan was to work outside on the porch, getting the seeds started that could not be directly sown into my garden. For my birthday, Maggie bought me a grow light that we've installed in the basement. The plan is to get a head start on growing plants from seeds by exposing them to 16 hours a day of fake sunlight. I anticipated this afternoon's work to include filling black plastic cell flats with a seed starter mix that I bought at Fresh Start Garden Supply in Louisville and then planting individual seeds in each cell, identifying them as I go along. Sounds like a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, does it not?

But I just came in from getting things set up and it is very cold and windy out there. So, I think I'll change direction and instead make a batch of granola and dried cranberry chocolate chip cookies to ship to Mary for her Spring Break road trip. 

The seeds will just have to wait for a warmer day... To be continued. 

__________________

Granola and Dried Cranberry Chocolate Chip Cookies

ingredients

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter, softened

3/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar

1 large egg

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1 1/2 cups granola

1/4 cup dried cranberries, chopped

1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips

preparation

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a bowl whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl with an electric mixer cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in egg, beating until combined well, and beat in vanilla. Beat in flour mixture and stir in remaining ingredients. Drop dough by rounded tablespoons 2 inches apart onto buttered baking sheets and bake in batches in middle of oven 12 to 15 inches, or until golden. Cool cookies on racks. Cookies keep in airtight containers 5 days. 

makes 36 cookies 

If someday you can't find me...

Our marathon of tree planting has been temporarily interrupted by three inches of overnight snow. I'm using the snow day to catch up on bill paying, bread making, and sitting by the fire reading some poetry.

For my birthday, Ed gave me A Thousand Mornings, a small collection of poems by Mary Oliver. I like her poetry. It is easy to read, not too serious. I read somewhere that her creativity is stirred by nature, and Oliver, an avid walker, often pursues inspiration on foot. I'm not a poet, but every day, on every walk, I am inspired by my observances of the natural world here at Farm Dover.

Some of her poems are so light that they remind me of the Shel Siverstein ones we read to the children when they were young. Here's one that cheered me today. It's called Green, Green is my Sister's House.

Don't you dare climb that tree

or even try, they said, or you will be

sent away to the hospital of the

very foolish, if not the other one.

And I suppose, considering my age, 

it was fair advice.

But the tree is a sister to me, she

lives alone in a green cottage

high in the air and I know what

would happen, she'd clap her green hands,

she'd shake her green hair, she'd 

welcome me. Truly

I try to be good but sometimes 

a person just has to break out and

act like the wild and springy thing

one used to be. It's impossible not

to remember wild and want it back. So

if someday you can't find me you might 

look into that tree or – of course

it's possible – under it.

- MARY OLIVER

What a privilege!

Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?”

- Tom Sawyer

Look what got to delivered to our doorstep. No, they are not body bags. They are tree bags!

In them are 10 each of Kentucky Cofeetrees, Eastern Redbuds, Chinese Chestnuts, Shellbark Hickories, Shagbark Hickories, Will Oaks, Red Shumard Oaks, Pecans, Blackgums, Flowering Dogwoods, Pawpaws, Persimmons, Wild Plum, Sassafras, River Birches, Yellow-Poplar and 100 Black Walnuts.

Through the Kentucky Department of Forestry, we ordered 250 seedlings. That's a lot of little trees to plant. Over the next week Ed and I will be out digging holes, placing the seedling roots in them, filling with dirt and tamping them down. Then we will mark them with orange tape. I can never tell if this is helpful to us or if just causes the deer and rabbits to take a second look and a nibble.

Like Tom Sawyer, I can promise that planting trees is as much of a privilege as whitewashing a board fence. Let me know if you want to give it a try.

In Like a Lion

What a gray and dreary week it has been. Today, March 1, roared in like a lion.

I've got my fingers crossed that the month will go out like a lamb.

Be pleasant; be reliable

One of the most gratifying parts of our quick trip to the beach was revisiting places that held precious memories of family vacations of yesteryear. Grayton Beach is squeezed between Destin and the Watercolor/Seaside developments. The actual little town is surrounded by the beach on the south side, the beach road (30a) on north and Grayton Beach State Park – with its magnificient dunes – on the east and west.

When we first vacationed there, the roads were gravel and many of the houses were weathered beach shacks with names like The Luv Shack. There was an unofficial petting zoo, one restaurant, one ice cream shop, one vegetarian cafe/bed & breakfast, and not much else – other than beautiful white beaches and huge dunes anchored with sea grass. We loved it.

So, I was a little worried that the Emerald Coast development powers-that-be would have swallowed up our charming Grayton Beach town. It had been at least a dozen years since we last visited. Yes, things had changed, but not as much as I had feared. The roads are now paved. The old shacks are gone, replaced with upscale beach houses, (but not as upscale as down the road in Seaside). The ice cream shop is long gone, as is the petting zoo. But the Red Bar lives on, serving up good food and mean live jazz.

The little vegetarian cafe, The Hibiscus, has changed hands and added some meat options to its menu, but otherwise looked the same. We were pleased to see that Wonder Waffles were still featured on the menu as was a daily frittata. The best part is that the new owner has continued the tradition of posting a daily command on the black board outside the cafe. Each command starts with the verb: Be. We were only there two days, but were commanded to "Be pleasant" and "Be reliable."

I take these commands seriously and challenged myself to try to be more pleasant and reliable. Wonder what today's command is?

Scratch cooking

I've been on a bit of a roll lately trying to create foods at home that I would normally buy ready-made. Things like pimento cheese, egg salad, salsa, tomato sauce, granola, oatcakes, bread, even beer (okay, Maggie gets credit for that one). In every case, I've been pleased with the end product and feel like I am slowly getting processed foods out of my diet. I like knowing what goes into the foods I eat and feed my beloves.

I've recently been making hummus from scratch, using a recipe that Deb Perelman featured on her blog Smitten Kitchen. She caused quite a stir among her readers when she admitted that her secret to ethereally smooth hummus is the fact that she hand peels each of the chickpeas that go into her recipe. I didn't even know that chickpeas had a peel! Peeling chickpeas adds 10 or so minutes to the prep time, but I found the task quite satisfying. If you put a single chickpea between your thumb and next two fingers and squeeze slightly, it just pops out, leaving the skin behind.

I've made her recipe twice, once using dried chickpeas from Rancho Gordo and once using canned ones, each time peeling the chickpeas. Much to my delight, by adding this one step, the resulting hummus really is ethereally smooth – 10 times better than any I've bought ready made.

On a related note, Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen is the featured speaker at a Louisville Free Public Library event on March 27th at 7 p.m. Tickets for the event are free, but required. I'm a big fan of Deb's. Her recipes are fabulous, as is her writing and photography. I'll be there.

Why We Don't Have Chickens

People often ask me if we have chickens, (or goats, or cows, or horses or dogs) at Farm Dover. We don't. I'm not saying that we will never have them, but, as Ed likes to point out, we just got our children out the door and are not looking for more responsibilities. Maybe someday...

But for now, we come and go as we like. Last Sunday we decided to drive to Grayton Beach and Apalachicola for a few days of beach walks, bird watching, book reading, boat fishing and all the shrimp and oysters we cared to eat. It was easy. We packed a suitcase, jumped in the car, and headed south. And that, my friends, is why we don't have chickens (yet).

Spring has sprung (could be wishful thinking)

Feels like Farm Dover is coming alive after a long hibernation. I know it is only mid-February, but already the air is starting to smell of springtime and my spirits are rising in anticipation.

Here's a glimpse of things going on inside and outside at Farm Dover.

Birds have returned. Just this week, we've seen dozens of robins, a pair or two of bluebirds, several mockingbirds and killdeers, a downey woodpecker, and perhaps most excitedly, a rare northern harrier hawk. It's just amazing to me how the bird population changes with the seasons. When I go out for my morning walks, the air is filled with bird song at a much higher volume than  even two weeks ago.

love birds

Thousands of starlings are hanging out in the fields

Ed and I have been working outside the past few days, clearing more trash trees, and improving our electric drill skills.

We installed bluebird houses at the front gate and one in the side yard in hopes of attracting bluebirds of happiness to Farm Dover. Maggie and Nate made these nesting boxes for Ed for Father's Day, but we waited to put them up until it was nesting season.

While we had our drill going, we put up the sign that Mary gave me for Christmas, annoucing to the world where my garden is located.

In anticipation of a robust garden, we had a mountain of the blackest compost delivered this morning. Hoping to talk to Jack into coming over to help us spread it over our garden and around our fruit trees.

I purchased a barn-wood table from a friend who is moving out of town and found the perfect home for it under the big hackberry tree at the bend in the road. Daydreaming of some picnics.

I'm still walking every morning up and down all the trails. Maggie went with me on Sunday morning and a nice neighbor dog joined us. He followed us home and took up residence on our front porch.

I told him to sit and stay so I could slip inside. He took me literally, and when I looked outside, there he still was.

And there he stayed for eight hours, even though I kept telling him to "go home."

As dark came on, Maggie and I put back on our walking shoes and offered to walk him home. He didn't seem all that happy to leave and we were sad to see him go. I hope he comes back another day.

The big news inside the house is that the 1000-piece puzzle from Christmas is finally finished. The puzzle featured one of folk artist Will Moses' paintings. It included lots of white pieces making it a particularly hard one – but Maggie kept at it.

And in the kitchen, I was busy making granola and packaging it  up in Weck® canning jars for my special Valentines.

Wishing you a happy valentine's day and an early spring.

Eiffel Tower of Farm Dover

Scientists at Cornell University have determined that the Eiffel Tower is one of the five most photographed landmarks in the world. That doesn't surprise me. On my computer alone, I have more than 20 photos that feature the iron lattice tower, the cultural icon of France.

There is just something about the entrance arch to the 1889 World's Fair that makes millions of visitors want to snap a photo, as if to prove that they have visited one of the most visited places in the world.

I think of the hackberry tree at the bend in our drive as the Eiffel Tower of Farm Dover. Seems like I can't stop snapping photos of it. Ed and I have cleared the scrub trees and weeds from its base, so it stands taller and mightier than any other tree in the line along the drive.

As I scanned the hundreds of photos that I have taken of the farm, it shows up time and time again. In all seasons; at all times of the day.

The details capture my imagination as much as the whole tree.

Hackberry trees aren't valued for much on the market. But it is valued by birds and bees (and me). It is one of the best food and shelter plants for wildlife. Its berries remain on its branches throughout the winter months. Quail, pheasants, woodpeckers, and cedar waxwings feed on its fruit. Bees like it to; pollinating it in the spring.

I'm not sure why I'm so attracted to this tree. I think it is partly because it reminds me of a tree that was illustrated in a book that I loved as a child: A Friend is Someone Who Likes You, by Joan Walsh Anglund. The tiny book was given to me by my Uncle Bud – and I treasured all his gifts. I couldn't find my copy today; I think Mary took it off to college – as she likes it as much as I do.

I can't remember the exact text, but it went something like:

A friend is someone who likes you. 

It can be a boy...

It can be a girl...

or a cat...or a dog...

or even a white mouse. 

...A tree can be a different kind of friend.
It doesn't talk to you, but you know it likes you,
because it gives you apples, or pears, or cherries,
or sometimes a place to swing. 

photo by Jeanne1974 from flickr®

So I think of this tree as my friend. This weekend, we placed a rough hewn table at its base. I can imagine stringing little white lights on the trees lowest limbs and hosting a spring picnic under this tree – under the arms of my friend, the hackberry tree.