As the Weather Outside Grows Frightful..

Olive tree

The weather report said two nights of low 30s, and we figured it was time. So in come the potted lemons and caldomin oranges, the olive tree and friends. For the next few months they will only huddle and peer out at the brick pathway along the house’s south side, where they basked all spring, summer, and fall. Hopefully they are beefed up enough to survive the spider mites and scale that trouble them in dry indoor heat.

Just look at how they grew! Bodacious! We humans may be challenged to share space with some of our potted friends. Hopefully lemons and oranges are to follow. And although the produce is safe from munching birds, I may still have to net these indoor trees to get my fair share. Owen has sharp eyes, and often gets there first.

We have made the decision to put a small orchard in at the back of the house. Where the rise of land looks south and west should be a perfect spot. This morning I took the plunge, ordering two each of cherries, peaches, and pears from our old friend Stark Bros. I wanted to buy local, but the supply wasn’t there this late in the season.

Edward already planted a fig. We are waiting for delivery of blueberry bushes. The blueberries we did find local (Dimeo Farms, in New Jersey) and organic, for a good price too. I still want to find kumwats… I am dreaming about a variety of citrus that is winter hardy. I want food independence! And I want local, organically grown! So in spite of creaky knees and aging backs, Yes, we are returning to Suburban Growing our own food.

The decision is comforting. After all the uncertainty, all the struggles to make this Pennsylvania house clean and mold-safe, it looks like we are staying. We will always have to be careful with the house’s humidity levels, and cleaning, but more each month we are nestling in, and putting down roots. Thankfully.

The favorite winterberry

Starting Over — or Not?

It’s been just over two years since we left our Maryland gardens behind, and moved to Pennsylvannia. After 14 months of a torturous, CoVid-complicated, mold-complicated renovation, we have a year under our belts in this new home. The next natural step is to start building gardens. Right?

Only our love of gardening is at conflict with aging knees, shoulders, and increasing desire to “be still.” The property is surrounded by an established “lawnscape,” beautiful mature trees, and existing shrubs. We don’t have to do this. But will we be able to stop ourselves?…

It was fairly easy this spring to put some drift roses, lavender, and Shasta daisies in under the blue cypress out front, in time for our daughter’s June wedding. Adding a few Oriental lilies along the patio was an hour’s work in a raised bed. (Imagine being able to grow lilies! without voles??) We hired help with weeding this summer, and heavy mulching helped us cope. Weeding is still something Edward still loves to do, despite troublesome knees. The gardens look good.

But what about the stated purpose of this blog, to grow our own FOOD? We started the prosess. Black locust planks purchased to build raised beds lay all summer in a pile of overgrown grass on the south side of the house. Black locust doesn’t rot, and we got a great deal on the lumber last spring. But we couldn’t summon strength to deal with those heavy boards.

A lot has changed about our bodies since 28 years ago, when we moved into a new house, and created brand new gardens, improved heavy clay soil, and raised kids and vegetables, dogs, cats, and chickens together. The process of “getting rid of” that our move required of me is catching. I like it. I love it. So my question is, how much of my old life do I really want to take up again?

The winter squash didn’t wait for me to make up my mind. It sprouted and sprawled happily all over the compost pile that we have planned eventually to be a blueberry bed. The summer squash Edward threw in in May seemed to thrive on neglect, producing abundantly. As the vine borer discovered and killed one stretch, another vine took over and carried on. (This success was likely thanks to the manure, dirt and leaves I layered on the beds last fall.) Even with deer and groundhogs and rabbits helping themselves, and no watering, we harvested plenty of yellow squash and a couple cucumbers, and a colander of little potatoes. No tomatoes, the deer gobbled those, fruit, leaves, and stalks.

For so many years my query has been: How can ordinary busy people raise a significant part of the food they consume? And, how can more people get access “organically” raised, that is to say nontoxic, food? First of all they would need to see the value in it…. Too few Americans will discover the startling difference between say fresh Lima beans (with butter and salt and pepper!) and the limas you get frozen. Or between a local grown peach and any of its cousins who sit on supermarket shelves, trucked in from far away places. How about the richness of eggs from pastured chickens, compared to pale sad eggs from large egg farms. It isn’t a subtle thing.

Maybe the answer to the gardening vs aging body challenge lies in barter: what can you offer in trade for what you need? Our youngest moved home for a bit this fall, and is willing to lend us his muscles and building expertise in exchange for bed and home cooked meals. Suddenly those hunks of lumber that lay fallow in the tall grass all summer are raised beds. Two beds are even full of dirt — the problem of the lack of a pick up truck solved with a tarp laid in the back of my Toyota RAV.

This fall I picked up an old favorite, Animal, VMiracle by Barbara Kingsolver. Kingsolver writes about her own experiences with growing, and the value in locally grown food for the economy and for the world. I don’t see raising turkeys on my horizon, but her enthusiasm about varieties of plants and eating local is always inspiring…. Maybe it’s time to sign up for some seed catalogues.

Looking ahead to 2023, my new outlook will be “Suburban Growing for People Growing Older!” I plan to raise the beds higher. Drag a strong-backed helper along to harvest muck and leaves to build up soil this fall. Compost scraps right in the garden bed. Mulch like no tomorrow. And focus on plants that relish neglect. 2023 here we go.

Now we just need to move that sycamore…

Winter’s End

Bags of compost waiting to become part of David’s garden projects at Peter Bay, St John

Can it be already two weeks since I sat on the beach, watching our host David water his sea grape transplants on Peter Bay? They needed the help. The height of the dry season, David told me.  I left frozen garden beds under piles of snow, but I could feel them calling to me.It’s not quite growing season for Pennsylvania. The Simons gardens-to-be are only just liberated from a couple feet of snow and ice, and look like they have a long way to go. But inspired by a week of warm, I am ready to get to work at Seven Beeches, our new not-quite-home on Quarry Road. Edward, Owen, and I moved to Pennsylvania last August, but months before that we started our new asparagus bed on this land. It sits on a north slope of our new property, facing southeast. We used boards, covered with several coats of linseed oil to delay the inevitable deterioration without the toxicity of other more permanent solutions.  Hopefully the future asparagus likes it. 

There’s not much we can do to hurry the process of what is a massive renovation of the house we bought from Edward’s Uncle John and Aunt Temmy last spring. We think we will love here, on a sunny hill looking over  woods and valley in the borough of Bryn Athyn. But for now we have to wait. So we are putting down our roots in the yard.

This winter we began another bed, for the future blueberry bushes, using Uncle John’s old woodpile to create boundaries for what will be a large raised bed.
The big logs allow for a bed 12-16″ deep. Edward and I have been gardening together for a long time now – 30 years this summer – and we’ve made a lot of compost. And for most of those years we have always dug it INTO the soil to prepare beds. I won’t make that mistake again. This time I am adding it on top. Start with what the soil has to offer and build UP. Edward may still dig it in, because he just loves to move dirt around. I think he may be part mole. It relaxes him. Maybe if my shoulders were built like his I would feel the same.

But Mother Nature dumps compost on top. Leaves fall, poops falls, rains falls improving the soil from above. This way, all the soil-dwelling animals and organisms and the civilizations they have going on down there don’t get destroyed in the name of progress. They can just move up. Expand. Build a house in the country for themselves. Whatever they do. They know their business, and I want to leave them to it. Because after years of removing clay from soil to add IN better soil, I can tell you it really doesn’t work that great and it’s a hell of a lot of work. 

All this winter, we have been carrying buckets of vegetable waste from our apartment kitchen to dump on beds, to create a rich medium for future plants. For a few months there it amounted to dumpling the stuff  on top of snow drifts and covering it up with more snow. The deer love us I am sure– out neighbors possibly not so much. The deer leave gifts on the lawn as they leave the snack bar, which we “up-cycle” back into the garden beds… The deer drive thru is a short-lived perk,  since asap we will be putting up a deer fence.

 As I traipse by with my buckets of veggie waste, I make sure to give some love to the seven tiny beech saplings we brought with us from our beloved woods in Maryland. We are planting companions for them, near the solitary red oak on the south side. A beech spinney! I love the way light is caught in the arms of a beech forest, golden green, almost translucent, and filters down to ground thickly covered in last year’s leaves. My love of beech trees has only been enlarged by reading about their “group think,” in  The Secret Life of Trees this winter. According to Peter Wholleben beech live happier and longer when crowded together in communities, where they share food root to root with younger and struggling beech.

Barely visible, a beech sapling puts down roots.

On the west side of the property we have begun to plant sycamores, sturdy volunteers potted up by a local friend. Sycamores are another favorite of ours for their resilience, beautiful bark and enormous frilly leaves. (They may drop branches, but don’t go down like tulip poplars). We still have to figure out how to fit an orchard in on the western slope behind the house.

There is plenty of cold left to get through. But I am inspired by melting snow and a few days of sun to rake up and haul pine needles for the blueberry bed and leaves for the asparagus. I watch the sun begin to wake the sleeping soil, ready to participate again in the glorious cycle.

Suburban Growing…But Not Plants

Lately, I have been trying to un-aquire stuff. Trying to peel down, through layers of accumulated possessions, that grew up around us in our 30 years of marriage. The layers that moved with us from MD to PA last summer, and currently fill FOUR storage units and our apartment. Yes four. It’s embarrassing. I had no idea the homestead contained that much stuff.

Now to be fair, CoVid is partly to blame — when we were boxing up and clearing out, Goodwill etc were non-operational. Plus people felt weird about handling secondhand goods. Its been a relief to start to tackle the problem, to find happy homes for that pile of acquired possessions. It’s uphill work.

But let’s get real. Those large objects are only the most obvious examples of our explicit and intentional generation of “stuff” — the things we meant to buy. What about all the things we didn’t even mean to buy, the things that are such a part of modern life

Even when nothing is growing in suburban gardens, stuff is growing in suburbia. Mounds of stuff. You know. Plastic cups, dishes, masks, laundry bottles.

But yesterday, I found myself staring into wastebaskets. Have you ever taken note of a restroom trash can? Washing hands is a very good thing at any time in human history, never more so than with a pandemic hovering over our shoulders. But all this washing hands yields an enormous unintentional harvest.

The photo documents half a morning’s worth of my paper towel. About two hours. In and out of bathrooms at the gym, and at Panera where Owen and I write. A small mountain, with much more to come. All day long.

Waste baskets and waste baskets and waste baskets mostly full of paper towels. Damp and mostly clean (since you already washed your hands), single use paper towel. And every basketful encapsulated in the plastic trash bag that transports it.  The plastic bag that prevents contact with water, air, and sunshine that would degrade the paper and return it to soil.

I can’t take it anymore. So I am stuffing the wet and basically clean paper into my pockets. It won’t hurt me there (joining who knows what all else).  I can add it to our compost bucket at home. 

I know this is a micro problem in a world of BIG problems. But I have better things to grow than garbage, even in a suburban winter. The cleanest of all garbage: Dirt.

Oh Oh…IgG-o

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Queen of Procrastination, I have avoided writing this post for 19 months A record? Hah.  But now, after lying dormant, the Suburban Gardens blog entombed perhaps and clinging to a reed like a sleeping caterpillar, now emerges transformed! And from henceforth —-

Wait, let me start at the beginning.

Two summers ago,  HUGE CHANGE plopped into the Simons Gardens world like a massive chickie poo.  One of our doctors suggested an IgG test for food sensitivities.  In our constant quest for optimum health, Wystan, Edward, and Oskar (yes, we cudgelled the poor lad into it) pressed a stabbed finger onto a special paper card in six places and the doctor mailed it off. When this IgG test came back from the lab it showed a fairly high level of antibodies to chicken eggs

And eggs isn’t all, as you can see from the list above. Oh drat.

I had heard that some doctors suggest low level sensitivity to eggs is more common than many people realize.  Dr. Terry Wahls, for instance, (Wahls Paleo)  But I had ignored this advice, like any normal person would do.  Eggs are awesome!  Most of my life I ahve eaten an egg or two a day.  In 2018 in pursuit of better health, Edward and I had ditched sugars & grains, and had filled our plates with veggies but also LOTS of eggs , butter,  meat, and nut flours.  I often ate 4  eggs a day.  I didn’t feel that well after 6 months of eating “Paleo,” but it was hard to say why… I had unexplained stomach aches. And Edward never did lose weight the way you would expect, considering how many carby things he cut out.

So, we gave up the almonds, and the eggs….

AND , True Confessions (this hurts dear readers, sob) we gave up our hens. It just made no sense to keep them. With Edward and Oskar’s help I packed up my chickens and drove them to live on a mountainside in Middletown MD.  Our friend Ben Friton, of the Reed Center for Ecosystem Reintegration took them in.  He tells me they seem very happy.

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Photo credit Ben Friton

There is more to the diet quest, if you have the stomach for it (couldn’t resist).  Those stomach aches didn’t really stop with removal of eggs and almonds. At summer’s end 2018 we tried out live blood analysis, at the insistence of a friend and just to prove how healthy we now were.  The magnified image of a single drop of blood on the screen revealed parasites, bacteria, and undigested food particles in my blood. Nearly every red blood cell had a PacMan like creature inside it.  Our holistic nutritionist proposed I focus on well-cooked veggies, stews, soups, and cut back on harder-to-digest foods, like butter, oils, nuts, meat. Many of the very foods that the paleo diet had us tanking up on, to avoid carbs and sugars. Waaah what’s left?? I whined.  I admit, I was bitter.

But finally, after  sulking a while, I noticed that on a mostly well-cooked veggie with some meat, + fruit eaten with raw veggie diet my stomach aches were gone. I felt better. My chronically bloated stomach is gone, as long as I can stick to it. Which I am not so good at doing. Nothing wrong with healthy fats as long as you have the chops to digest them — I wish I could!  I loved the keto/paleo thing, and it really does cut my sugar cravings to eat fats.

But where does this leave the blog Suburban Growing? Admit it, you only loved me for my chickens.  Chicken-less Gardens lack sex appeal, somehow, but then even the gardens were hacked apart following the torrential rains of fall 2018, dug up to accommodate sump-pump drainage pipes and so on.

The new year breathes fresh ideas and exciting change. The Simons Gardens will be relocated this summer to a tiny borough in Pennsylvania: Bryn Athyn, my husband’s hometown.  This time we will living on the top of a hill, on 2 acres with a southern exposure, tons of sunshine…and also colder winters and a two week delay on springtime, my husband points out.  He would have preferred the challenges of Florida gardening I think.  But Bryn Athyn brings us closer to family.

I don’t want to get carried away, just because we have more land than before.  Remeber, we are older now. But, might there be a few just a few chickens in our future? well.  Maybe a small orchard?… a composting toilet perhaps in the garden shed? and certainly reforesting the edges of the large lawn so there is less to mow….right?

There are green building issues to consider too,  to make this house right for our family.  Is there such a thing as a sustainable that is low-impact way to renovate a house? I hope so. The renovation shows I watch at the gym are terrifying. Heave ho and off to the landfill with piles of tiles and granite counter tops, to be replaced with other tiles and granite counter tops… What is the point in eating organically if we are filling the planet with the leftovers of our insatiable consumerism?? So, the quest for ways to grow food, put up food, and live sustainably will take this blog into 2020 and beyond. t revealed that I am highly s

Suburban Growing, like the phoenix (or the caterpillar) rising from ashes (chrysalis please!) is ready to fly again. 

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MidSummer Nights Dream

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Careful what you wish for – two-month old Sapphire Gem (a new Czech breed) contemplates the weekend’s change in the weather

For any gardener in Maryland last week, your dreams were of rain. Wasn’t it just a few months ago that we were soaking, gross and saturated? WAY too much rain? Mud in my chicken run was so deep I worried for the health of my baby chicks!  But now those chicks are teenagers and experiencing days of 90-100 degree heat, burnt up grass, baked hard ground, and hot sticky nights.

Same for the gardens, where once lettuce was so lush, loving all that rain. So, Hooray for my hose! SUN + WATER = FOOD!! There is not much I can do when weather is too wet to help plants fight back the attacking mold and rot. But in the bright, sunny, too hot I can supply mulch and water – and voila!  Even in last week’s heat I added pepper, tomato, and herb seedlings into our front walk flower bed where squash vines already ramble. Thanks to lots of light fluffy leaf mulch (leaf pro or leaf grow, from my local nursery) and my hose they have survived their roasting first week looking good.

I have also been using the hose to BLAST the hoard of proliferating junior SQUASH BUGS off leaves and vines. Not sure yet if this is enough to get rid of them. Squishing them is best of course, but takes a lot longer. While I am there, I check both sides of the leaves for EGGS, scraping or ripping them off.

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Article on squash bugs –  thanks to kind of a hippiesquash-bug-eggs

Everything likes to eat squash plants. Squash bugs, caterpillars, winged bugs I cannot identify but detest… it’s a birth-place, bar, and restaurant in one. All that juiciness.  High heat is stressful. Plants, hens, bugs, everything gets cranky and aggressive.

Getting enough water is prevention and cure for many garden woes.  The plants I keep watered are the ones that thrive, I remind myself, and keep producing food for us. True, water is a precious resource, and I have a bad habit of forgetting to turn off the hose…. We are lucky in this part of the globe to have a hose to turn on at will, when in many parts of the world getting the daily water is a challenge and chore. But eating from the garden means watering. Why do I so often get busy and forget to maintain the gardens in midsummer? Note to self: 1. yes, be grateful, but 2. go get that hose!

The same holds true for chicken health in the heat – mulch under foot and plenty of clean water. My two month olds are happy, healthy, and independent, not too picked on by the older hens. I rotate the flock between 6 paddocks, which includes the front and back grass. Edward is not at peace with chickens on lawns. On the lawns means access to garden beds. Chickens usually make a mess, raking through the mulch at the garden bed edges, uncovering roots, intent on their constant search for BUGS. But, wait…wait. Wasn’t I just complaining about bugs in the garden? So you see, it’s a trade off. This is supposed to be a bad year for ticks. Our tick tally is up to four so far this season.  I would rather have to pull the gardens back together than have a husband with Lyme disease. So — RELEASE THE CHICKEN PATROL!!  One more great reason to keep chickens (did you need another?) is vigilant insect management.

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The two month olds engage in vigilant insect management

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Surprise! As I photograph, Old Mama hen puts her body between mine and her former babies. Maybe she is still on the job, part time protecting them?

PS – Have you ever tried Dragon Tongue Lettuce? This is a great plant. True to the brag on the back of the seed packet, this lettuce still tastes good in heat, and it does not hurry into bolt mode! (Note: I could not find this seed again. Still hunting)

PPS – we finally got some rain in a thunderstorm yesterday!

PPS – we got a weekend of pounding rain and thunderstorms.

PPPS – Looks like a week of rain ahead. Oh-oh. Shelve the garden hose. Post the blog anyway. Dream of sunshine.

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Enjoying the grass and bug patrol

Sprung

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My lettuce seedlings accuse me. I skitter past the trays under the grow light where limp green straggles out over the  edges of a plastic pot, overcrowded and desperate for soil and sun. Or more water, to be honest. More water would do it.

“Soon,” I think to them. Guilt, guilt, guilt.

I love this crazy slightly manic time of year, with more and more sunlit hours per day, and the incredible energy of the sun feeding gardener and plants alike. I didn’t know until recently that I (like so many modern folks) am “low for vitamin D.” Maybe this is why my gardening hours leave me energized, even if my back hurts from overdoing.  My back recovers easily over night, ready for more the next day. (Shout out to Edward here, since my spinal health is largely due to my kind husband, who gives a great deep tissue massage even as he is falling asleep.)  I am sorry not to keep up with my writing up as I do in the colder seasons. But being outside is tonic for the soul, mind, and body. My chiropractor sees more of me the more hours I spend at a desk. Lack of varied activity seems far more injurious than the strain from pushing wheelbarrows, hammering stakes, yanking weeds, or hoisting clumps of heavy Maryland soil.

My lettuce seedlings may not look too great but the lettuce and kale garden is going gangbusters! These were plants I couldn’t resist buying way back in March. The bugs and snails haven’t found them in this new location. Yet. The chickens have been resentful but prevented. And the evil bunny rabbits can’t get in either. My kale leaves are yet un-chewed. Very satisfying. Two salads so far from these luscious leaves.

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This success has made me bold. I put the  broccoli sprouts out in the back kitchen garden, surrounded by an army of marigolds. However, now that I think about it, last season that bed of baby broccolis had kale in it… kale that was completely skeletonized by unknown forces. Marauding hordes of slugs, snails, chickens??? We never got a bite.  Broccoli is kale’s cousin – so these poor broccolis are far less likely to thrive. The attackers will be back for more. Damn. EVERYTHING – except humans – LOVES TO EAT KALE AND BROCCOLI.  AND CABBAGE. Maybe I can pull them out today, and stick them in the middle of the garlic bed, where the chickens got in and pillaged and made a space….

I am trying to learn more about grouping my plants, companion planting they call it, the way nature does it. I will have to check that kale and garlic are friends.  (They are.) Fascinating that some plant species like each other, and grow better in each other’s company.  And that other plants actually inhibit each other’s growth. Just like people — didn’t I hear somewhere that plants and humans share more DNA than they don’t?

But the really big news from the Simons Gardens is the new chicks under our broody golden Maran. Yesterday I went with daughter Freya and picked out five one day old chicks at Gambrills Feed Store, three of a new breed, blue hens from the Czech Republic. The little gals are a beautiful blue gray fuzz for now. They are supposed to lay lots of blue eggs. And then two good old Buff Orpingtons. I am a sucker for Buff Orpingtons, sweet tempered, good layers, and excellent mamas.

I wish I had captured a photo of the five chicks last night, but now you will have to wait, since once those chicks go under mama (stealthily traded for the eggs she sits on, in the dark of night), that hen keeps them close to her until they are all bonded and she feels all is well. Chicks have to kept 95 degrees warm. My other adoptive mothers have known just how to manage letting the chicks go, calling them back to get warm, teaching them to forage for bugs – so I am hoping for another success. Photos soon!

For now, it’s time to dig! Out into the gardens this beautiful cool morning, to set some lettuces free.

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Kale, artichoke, cabbage and arugula seedlings – yearning to breathe free

 

Oh Egg-cellent!!

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Too many eggs. YES. This is a problem I can LOVE. After months of pitiful laying, my flock is cranking out eggs even before spring begins, as the hours of sunshine per day increases. I removed two of the mean hens from the flock, who were drivingthe other girls away from the food. (Butchering them was Saturday’s project; they are in the freezer now.) with two fewer hens I am getting more eggs, so i think that was the right call. Plus I have been encouraging them with extras: organic grains and groats, kale, and occasional yogurt. I am also encouraging their G.I. health (my hens are prone to vent gleet)(yes, still)  by adding livestock probiotics, brewers yeast and garlic powder to their feed (thanks to Lisa at Fresh Eggs Daily for that info!).

Yes, they are laying well – but this time I will not be fooled. I will not get excited and start giving away or selling the extras! No no. I am gonna save them for the fall/winter when nature tells the layers to lay off.  Twelve to ten average layers can generate enough eggs in a year for a family of four, but only if you preserve the extra egg while you have it, in spring.  And yes, you can freeze eggs.

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I may not love the plastic of modern life  (see my rant Are Your Clothes Killing You?), but I do LOVE GOOGLE SEARCHES. While I waited for the red traffic light to change yesterday, I plugged into my cell phone  “freezing spring chicken eggs.”  (Of course I parked the phone as soon as the light changed! tush! How can you ask!) My Google quest lead me through a series of methods of preservation, from old-fashioned (which sound scary) by storing in tubs of salt, or by rubbing fat on the shell, or preserving in wax, to a backpacker who dehydrated eggs successfully, and found them functional on the trail.

Bear in mind that clean eggs that have not been washed are ok all by themselves at room temperature for a loooong time, contrary to what a modern refrigeration-dependent Amercian might think. Eggs come out of the mama coated with a protective substance — which American egg industry industriously washes off, thereby rendering the egg defenseless to bacteria. (sigh) In Europe and South Africa eggs are stored in baskets, not refrigerators.  How else could eggs in a farmyard sit under a mama in a nest of dirty straw for weeks, and not go rotten, thereby poisoning the embryonic chicken inside, waiting to be hatched? You can’t leave then in a mud pile, not in the full sun, but room temp is not a problem.

The Egg preservation answer I WANTED was: YES DEAR WYSTAN! YOU CAN LAZILY JUST POP THOSE BEAUTIES INTO A ZIPLOCK IN THEIR NICE CLEAN SHELLS!!  However, this appears NOT TO BE TRUE. Or at least not to be approved. The FDA advises against freezing eggs in shell, worried about the possibility of transmission of bacterial contamination from shell, when freezing eggs crack. And freezing eggs do crack – I already know that. Another reason not to freeze in shell is egg yolks do not always play nice after it is thawed. The yolks can toughen up and refuse to mix with the whites, they say.

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So most Experienced Chicken Egg Freezers stir the whites and yolks together,  sometimes adding a little salt ( 1/2 tsp per cup – I used 1/4 tsp per cup) and store in a tub or a ziplock in the freezer MARKED for quantity. (Be sure to mark what it is!) Then when ready to use, thaw slowly in fridge. They say the frozen egg prepared this way, can be used for baking and eating just fine.

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Since I have been avoiding evil plastic touching my food as much as possible these days,  I will try freezing some in glass, and some in plastic in case that doesn’t work.

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But I am also going to try freezing some whole eggs, because I am stubborn. Seems to me that nature usually has these things figured out, and having eggs protected by their own clean shells, cracked or not, seems preferable to eating egg that has been sitting on and absorbing plastic all summer long. Right? (PS. update – they crack badly, and expose the yolk. It probably isn’t going to work…)

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Let me add here that what the FDA doesn’t seem to know about food safety would fill a large book. Like most government agencies, they are worried about law suits and C.Y.A. and the stupid factor: what is the worst possible scenario here? The FDA does not give accurate advice on the subtleties of growing and eating your own food in a small controlled setting (ie not a factory farm).  Intelligent and educated people READ UP, therefore know better than to store a dirty egg, or to consume the eggs of sick chickens. Right?  The eggs of small flock chickens properly kept are generally healthier and certainly tastier than anything you can buy in any store anywhere, organic or not.

However there are some dumb people keeping chickens.  I have seen some very sad small flocks, standing in small muddy, unmulched enclosures, without access to grass, or bugs, or sun. We need the FDA regulations and suggestions.  And we need to educate ourselves to do BETTER.

I will let you know how thawing and eating my frozen crop works out…next fall!

More sources for you:

Fresh Eggs Daily

The Prairie Homestead

The Spruce.com

Huffington Post

Snowy Night Start!

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Inspired by Laurie, a brand new reader of this blog (find her at Meditations in Motion), I REALLY DID locate my supplies to start seedlings during the snow storm. A hurried walk in the dark and a faltering flashlight revealed the seed starter and  potting collection, buried at the back of our shed.

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Next to figure out what we are trying to grow…

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…and where, I refer to our Garden Plans book. We keep track here so we rotate crops ( ah, the endless effort to fool bugs).

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Whew! Bedtime!!

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While tomorrow’s lavender slumbers on!

 

 

 

From the Plastic King to Spring

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(Above: one Brussel with muscle.)

It’s the Olympics, so it must be time to start seedlings. That’s my measure. And whereas last week it was still solidly winter, this week Maryland will begin her flirtation with spring, rising to 70, before dropping us into the 30s again.  Another signal. Maybe a dare: get ready!  Suddenly, I find I am interested. Until this week the yard had become something I just hurried through. Until this week there wasn’t much happening there except the flapping of unfurling plastic sheeting around our failed temporary greenhouse creation. It’s rough being mocked by a piece of plastic sheeting.

Last issue Suburban Growing took a little sidetrack from it’s stated purpose and looked at the horrors of plastic for the environment: what plastic does, and how much of it is out there in all our waterways around the world and in our drinking water. Tiny particles.  Cancer causing. Given my low opinion of plastic as a material, anyone would ask how did we wind up with a massive monument to plastic in our garden?

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Sometimes we learn the most via failures. I’m hoping. The idea was to extend the growing season in an affordable way. The reality has been as ineffective as it is ugly: the wind pushed the plastic walls in on all sides, the chickens pushed in below and polished off the over-wintering greens, and the ice broke through from above. Oh and the plastic degrades: after a couple years of exposure to sun and water, the degraded plastic will not be suitable for recycling when we’re done.  One more for the ocean. Oh yuck.

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But we have big plans for the garden beds this growing season. The chickens we have decided need to go to a summer run and coop for the summer, under the shade of our tulip poplar. Then in their current run we will build up and plant garden beds, on the south side in full sun!

Going forward rather than a temporary plastic sheeting, or the expensive glass greenhouse we were considering to extend our growing season, we plan to put our energy into building cold frames on top of the raised beds we already use.  This way we can start plants early, or keep them going late, or lift up and lock the glass “lid” when we don’t need the extra warmth, in mid season. We can let chickens get in, or keep them out, bed by bed. For example:

Photo from hgtv How to Build a Cold Frame

Aren’t you inspired?

We could start easy this spring (we could, right Edward? easy!) with some old glass storm windows that I picked up from the end of someone’s driveway years ago. (I know – nightmare. Yes, it’s true, we have been storing these old windows in the shed for years.) The thing to know about using old storm windows for a cold frame is to remove the old paint first before you set it over a garden bed — because old paint contains lead. I am hoping to remove the paint with a power washing and scraping under the pine tree out back, in a garden that does not grow edibles. I will need to remember cover that dirt with other dirt, and mulch heavily too, since my chickens root around back there.

And what about the plastic sheeting? I think we may be able to use it still, as a two-sided wind break to increase the temperature on that south side and start some green beans climbing their poles early. Edward says usually they go in in May. It all depends on warming the soil enough to germinate beans, which are not cold weather lovers. But green bean are tougher than tomatoes or peppers. We eat a lot of greens beans, and they generally like our soil, so this would be a good food to make the effort to grow as many plantings as possible. (We have been getting 2-3 plantings during the summer.) One of the problems for planting early is the heavy rains we get here in spring – seeds rot – so the plastic sheeting could be used as a roof – even if the wind blows it about it could still shed some of the rain off a raised bed. A lady who saves and stores trash-picked storm windows is not going to throw out a pile of plastic sheeting! And when it finally degrades into pieces, unless they have found a better way to handle trash, I may bury it under the pine tree out back. R.I.P.  – No reincarnation for you.

More News from the Plastic Front:

Apart from the Monument to the Plastic King in our side yard, we really have been slowly phasing plastic out this winter with some success. Want to hear about it? I am kind of proud of us – it takes a lot of energy to swim up stream. See reviews on products and ideas below. And how about you? If you have discovered products or clever ways to replace plastic in your life, please share!  (check out my Instagram feed – suburbangrowing):

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Lush Shampoo and Conditioner bars – bite kindness of Owen

Shampoo Bars by Lush – these shampoo and conditioner bars are AMAZING smelling, and easy to use. (You can tell they smell good, since Owen took a sample.) They are expensive upfront, although my daughter tells me they last forever, so are much cheaper in the long run. The Avocado Shampoo and Conditioner bar – the triangular one –  is my favorite for smell, but will take a little getting used to since it doesn’t lather (the conditioner is in there too). The other lathers wonderfully. So far they work great for my hair.

Trash Can Traumas – I am trying out Lawn and Leaf Bags at the grocery store. Pretty affordable, but way too big. Not sized for kitchen trash cans. I chop them down, but My Simple Human Trash struggles to function. Inventors take note!! I have searched, and this product does not exist. Yet. I will also continue recycling old feed bags from the dog and chickens  – they fit pretty well. The key is what to do with WET garbage in paper bags – so far I am bagging it separately, in a small bag. But most of my non-compostable, non-recyclable trash is dry or only moist. Here’s our Garbage Breakdown: most veggie trash and leavings go to chickens; Non-chicken-appropriate Veggie garbage goes out to compost pile; metal, paper, glass goes to recycling bins; oil I pour out in garden behind the grill under the old azalea out back  (she’s tough).

Replacing Plastic Wrap or Foil — Plastic wrap should never touch your food, and neither should aluminum. Both leach stuff into food that causes disease.  So how do you put food away in fridge?  These beeswax wraps are wonderful! Highly colored ones shown are from etee – as in “everything touches everything else.” The other I bought at my health foodstore.   Find out more here:  etee wraps

Photo from the etee Food Wrap website

 

Spring is coming – and plastic is going.