Left the Mile-High City

Just a year ago about this time we contemplated moving away from the developer-driven environment where we were holding our own in the 'new climate' of extremes. I had already planted my garlic and Al had ordered a million onion sets for the spring. (or maybe 200). In our new environment we live in the land of grass. We fairly quickly removed an area of lawn to grow some food. We dug in many bags of compost from the town's composted waste site (people warn us of weeds, but don't weeds happen anyway?) We got our soil tested and found it to be trather acidic, so dug in 50 pounds of lime. Manure in the great state of Iowa is elusive--farmers seem to use their manure and hobby gardeners (like they did in the mile-high city) often buy it in bags. I am holding out to maintain my old mantra: "don't pay for poop". Somebody gave us extra tomatillos and hubby brought a bushel of green chiles back from Colorado to freeze. We've become acquainted with the farmer's market (people grow a lot of good things), and have enjoyed many sightings of the white-tailed squirrel. It rains and the soil is loamy. We're learning new plants that pop up. Life is good. But the tap water tastes bad especially in the summer due to the farm run-off. Don't mourn, organize!

What We Did Today

Mom said she missed reading this, so I will enter a post today.  Here are some things we did at Whiteplum Farm today.

First, the day was just darn glorious--70 degrees.  We took a trip to one of our favorite poo sources, a bunny rescue, really a lovely bunny retirement home.  We loaded and packed our 4 cylinder pick-up with the awesome side panels tightly full of bunny mulch (the bunnies' signature byproduct plus bedding of wood chips or ground paper or straw). 
No picture of the truck, but here is one of the gardens we unloaded it into.
The ladies were happy to scratch around in it because it came pre-loaded with red wigglers and chicken delicacies.
Cooked some little pumpkins in the solar oven, here they are ready to remove.

Spinach and some cilantro and green onions in cold frame.  It's January!
Earlier super-cold temps slowed things down, but we put some spinach in our omelet Sunday.

Selfie, for mom. 

Glorious

A hint of snow fell last night.  Even a trace felt like a miracle to inhale. So with this post we'll share a song.

Just click the button that says listen to song to read all the lyrics and hear this song called "Glorious"--written by Karisha Longaker and sung by MaMuse (Sarah Nutting and Karisha)--that is just such a pretty meditation on the beauty of the earth and its mystery.

Oh, what a day! Glorious!
All the clouds
Have gathered round
The tops of trees
Oh what a day! Glorious!
Pitter patter
Fallin’ rain I can’t believe
All that’s green
Lifts up its leaves
Singin’ water come on in
We’ve been waiting all these days
Prayin’ you would come to quench
Every yearnin’ in our bones
Water, life with you begins
Oh what a day

Consider the Source: Local eggs and Walmart clothes

Shelby Grebenc, a 13-year-old farmer expresses well in this Denver Post article what it means to want to buy food that came from a known place.  This girl is not only a good businesswoman, she neatly lines out what many may already suspect: a commitment to buying sustainable food is simply not going to be something one can do at Walmart.

 "If you want sustainable, wholesome, pasture-raised organic, hormone- and antibiotic-free food, you have to support it. You can not get these things by talking about it and not paying for it."

Speaking of Walmart, this week a plant in Bangladesh making clothing for Walmart, Sears and Disney burned while locked exits kept workers in the 8 story building from escaping: 112 died.
The Christian Science Monitor reported this week that between 1990 and 2012 at least 33 fires in Bangladeshi clothing factories have claimed 500 lives, according to the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters.  Despite strong laws written into Bangladesh law, to date none of these factory fires have had conclusive investigations and no one has been held responsible. 
In 1911, 146 workers, mostly immigrant women, died in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York City,  a fire that started on the 8th floor of the 10-story building where the clothing factory was located.  Company co-owners were charged with manslaughter, but not convicted.  The Triangle fire sparked many protections for worker health and safety, and accelerated worker organizing in the early part of the 20th century. 
We can only hope the publicity of this recent Asian fire generates 21st century global economy consciousness. People should not have to sacrifice their lives this way to feed their families, and consumers of goods should not condone this kind of slavery.
Change comes hard.

Buy Local. Directly from the farmer if possible. Don't flush every time.

We just saw the film Queen of the Bees, an interesting and alarming documentary about bees and the urgency of their survival to the whole of the ecosystem.  We humans have been disrespectful of the gifts of the earth.  The film conveys the stark wrongness of miles and miles of almond groves which bees (who have miraculous directional instincts when left to their own devices) are trucked across the country to pollinate.
A week after we saw this film we saw Last Call at the Oasis, a scary movie about the source and lack of water.  Like the Bee movie, this documentary about water focused on water wasted and polluted by industrial agriculture.  They didn't forget Las Vegas either. 
In between the movies we visited our friends Val and Mark who manage the land at Shii Koeii (“She-Ko-eh,” Jicarilla Apache for “the people's water”) in Gardner Colorado. (Click the arrow in the middle of the sunflower to play shii koeii's kickstarter video). 
Here the land is fully respected and lived on without waste.  An electric wire surrounds the beehives to deter the bears, but the bees are free to do the job they do so well, succeeding even in a bone dry year.  Human waste is reused in a system that fertilizes trees instead of using water to flush it away to a treatment plant.  Seeds are saved to be reused again next year, un-beholden to Monsanto for their version of seed.  The straw bale, adobe dwelling place emerged from the earth and holds the heat from the sun; no gas is required to heat this home.  Solar panels on the chicken house and a single windmill provide electric power.
Meantime, we learned that Royal Dutch Shell is buying up the water rights in the Gardner area, presumably to use hydraulic fracturing to extract natural gas.   The little Huerfano "River", which the goats are pictured drinking from in the video, can't afford this.
To keep this place where we live, with every step we must respect our relationship with the earth herself.

Ode to Posey Crumbpacker

Usually when we lose chickens it's due to the foxy foxes. 
Two of our chickens we know the heritage of and we got them when they were 5 weeks old  (Ginger the Buff Orpington and Rocky the Plymouth Rock).

• One, a bantum, was given to a college student right before Christmas break as a gag gift and we ended up with it  (Melanie).

Seven of our girls came from a woman who couldn't keep them anymore and she couldn't bear to separate them.  

• Little Maudie, a white bantum with a blue beauty spot and 5 furry-looking feathered toes on each foot.  
• Three sisters of questionable heritage (Violet and Daisy the twins, and Hyacinth of lighter color). 
• A Rhode Island Red (Rose).
• Dorothy the gynandromorph Polish hen.
• And Posey Crumbpacker, who laid the absolute largest eggs we have ever seen.

On Sunday we realized Posey was dead on the nest.  We believe she died from being egg bound.   Her eggs were not only large, but thin shelled.  Had we observed she was having trouble, we could have placed her in a place of moist heat and she may have been able to pass the egg naturally, but we did not realize she was in trouble. 
You were a winner Posey, and we'll miss you.

Keep feeding the chickens, keep watering the plants.

When is it time to kill the chicken?
Today we collected a single egg.
20  legs of unknown chicken descent are hobbling around out there.
The price of corn is going to go up, has already gone up to $18 for a 50 pound bag. 
Here we happen to have photographed among our rescued brood, Rose, Daisy, Violet and Hyacinth (left to right, top to bottom).  Probably Rose lays eggs.  We aren't sure about the 3 sisters.  A dilemma.

It rained about an inch here all summer. Still the year ended again, with a bountiful harvest, despite the fact that this weather site  shows 2.5" precipitation for May/June/July/August combined.  In the garage we still have tomatoes to can and a root cellar with tomatillos I plan to process into salsa.  Have enough garlic to plant (still to be done) and last through until next summer. Have jars of pickles, applesauce, jams, juice, beets; frozen bags of corn, rhubarb, peaches, beans, peas, spinach, peppers.  Have pumpkins, some squash, a few cabbages.  Grew a watermelon I didn't even realize was there (it was DELICIOUS). 

Count it all joy.