PONDERING.
The other day I was walking through our woods and stepped over a very wet, almost swamp-like piece of ground. It was about 5-10 feet of elevation, and about 100 yards above where our blueberries are growing and where our high tunnel lives. These mushy spots are common, especially in the wet days of winter, but it occurred to me in that moment that it might be a good spot for a small pond. In fact, with its location, and with our predominantly clay subsoil (good for holding water), it might be ideal.So I brought the shovel up and dug a hole. I'm a fan of digging holes. I love the physicality and the results. I love owning property so I can dig a hole wherever I want, because sometimes you just need a hole, or want to dig one. When I was done, I let it fill with water and kept an eye on its level over the next few days. Although a small rain the next day might have tainted the results a bit, it held the water and I felt this might indeed work as our first, small pond.The idea is to have a little extra water source for irrigation and for livestock (when we get them). The pond will be located near the middle of what we're calling our first pasture, which right now looks more like a cedar forest than grass, punctuated by all brand of rose bush, briar and honey suckle, but we're working on that. With the aforementioned elevation, however, we should be able to get enough pressure from the drop to run the water through a sprinkler or drip-irrigation system in our high-tunnel (when we fix it). Digging this pond will be a fun chore when our minds are cloudy, or when we can't think of a particular project to work on, or for me when I just get the urge to dig a hole––which is wont to happen. Because sometimes, that's where ponds come from.- Jesse.
HIGH TUNNEL HOPES.
The plastic on the high tunnel we inherited when we took over our 7.42 acres of Bugtussle was in mild disrepair when we arrived, but it is in pretty extensive disrepair now. We kept saying we would get to it when we moved there, and if it could just hold on for a couple months we'd show it some tender love and care. Unfortunately, a recent windstorm tore it to pieces on one side, and there it sits, heavily wounded. Add it to the list of dilapidated structures needing fixing.However, there is a silver lining to this (no Oscar pun intended)––we suddenly have a little garden space. We're going to cut away one side of the plastic and use the open high tunnel to grow peppers and tomatoes this year. In the fall we're hoping to frame each end, frame the bottom, and entirely replace the plastic. With the old plastic we cut away, we're planning to build a small hoop house, maybe something for a lemon tree or two! It's a bummer we couldn't make it to the high tunnel in time to save the plastic, but we'll never complain about instant gardens.- Jesse.
SCONES MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER.
I never cease to be inspired by the food photography on this blog. Truly! Julie makes the most amazing food and takes the most beautiful pictures - and her recent recipe for Vegan Blood Orange//Chocolate Chip Scones was no exception. BUT - it wasn't the gorgeous images of juicy citrus and steaming cups of coffee that urged me to make my own scones. It was the words accompanying the post - about living a life in limbo, about getting in a February funk, about the terrible sadness and stress that can come with waiting. Jesse and I can so relate to her feelings of limbo. It can be difficult to really feel joy and peace in your life when you are waiting for a big change, for a big a move, for something. I love that Julie's response to the chaos and madness during a time like this is FOOD. The kitchen. Slowing down and being still and gathering your family.And so, in solidarity with Julie, I made some blood orange and chocolate chip scones (mine were not vegan). I would encourage anyone else out there who may be feeling the "February winter blues" to do the same.- Hannah.
