Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

Were it not for the tiny thriving plants pictured below, I would be ready to throw my hands up into the air, screaming, "What in the world was I thinking when I decided to start a flower farm?"  Flower farming looked like a fairly manageable venture as I read each beautifully scripted blog post and scanned the glorious photos of perfectly manicured rows of equally perfect flowers.  Sure, it would be work, but I have never shied away from work.  How bad could it be, I reasoned.

Half my first planting of sunflowers did not germinate in the cold wet soil, nor did the phlox seed.  In my eagerness, I did not prepare the beds as well as I should have.  With hundreds of plants outgrowing their tiny containers in my basement, and no place to put them, I dove at the chance to be able to plant them just about anywhere.

Rocks, roots, timber, and old pieces of iron continue to be unearthed with almost every shovel full of soil.

The well, the only source of water for the flower farm beyond rainfall, was outfitted with a brand new pump. It ran beautifully for a very short time, and now is bogged down.  The well person will be on site tomorrow to have a look. He and Better Half believe there is sediment in the bottom of the well.

The weather this past week was cool and wet, and, while I appreciate the rain, the flowers and vegetables need some warm sunny days.

I set up a domain name for the farm, and began the work of setting up a web site, only to realize I know as much about setting up a web site as I do about flower farming.

Expenses continue to mount.

Lots of days, the endless chores in front of me loom large, and threaten to overtake me.  Then, I retire to the farm for a walk about, plucking a few weeds as I go, noting the new growth on each little plant, and my faith is restored, at least until the next crisis rears its ugly head.

On a more positive note, the deer remain at bay, though each day I pull up to the farm, I look for signs of devastation.  Better Half and I built a cover for the well pit after he almost fell head long into the pit after tripping on a root.  We used old metal roofing on a new wooden frame.  It actually turned out quite nicely, though it weighs a ton.  The big field has been limed and disked.  It will be worked again when the land dries out.  I am beginning to think the old hog lot was a swamp, given the soggy conditions that persist.  The grass seed I planted on the grassy knoll above the garden is gorgeous.  It may be this year's best crop.  Views from every angle of the garden are spectacular.

This row of zinnias should be straight, but some of the stems have twisted, giving the bed a slightly disheveled look.

 This bed contains cosmos. I admit to feeling very professional as I stretched this mesh netting over the bed.  The flower plants will grow up through the holes and be supported by the netting, producing long straight stems. We shall see.

This row contains feverfew, butterfly weed, and rudbeckia, with Queen Annne's lace to the left and cosmos to the right.  I feel pretty good about the way this row looks.

A panorama of the garden from this past Saturday.  Check out the luscious grass in the foreground.

Better Half,  hard at work, on the well pit cover.

The finished cover sits on the grain scales, waiting to be hauled to the well pit.

New electricity, a new pump, tank, sump pump, hydrant, and associated innards have been installed. The well worked well for the first day, then became clogged shortly thereafter.  Once it is operational, it will enable me to use drip irrigation, as I expand the scope of the project.

I am quite certain that my grandfathers, both of whom grew gorgeous flowers, one on a narrow city lot, the other on a lot beside his home, are peering down from above with smiles on their faces wondering what in the world I am doing.  Most days, so do I.

Come Hell or High Water . . .

I was determined to have some presence on my newly cleared parcel of land this summer, you know, the one I've been raving about since February. 

So, about a week and a half ago, I got out the trusty tiller and began to till, 18 inch widths at a time - soil, rocks, roots and buried logs.  What a jolting job! Last week, I tilled even more, until I now have an area about 90 by 75 on which to plant.  While it is only a fraction of the land, it is a start!

Hundreds of seeds have been sewn and hundreds of seedlings have been tucked lovingly into the soil and saturated with deer repellent.  Seeding is ongoing in fits and starts as temperatures and rain permit.  If the temperature is above 50, it is not actively raining, and my boots do not sink in the mud deeper than 6 inches, I am at work at the farm.  I am smitten with this project. It combines so many things I love - fresh,colorful flowers and the just picked goodness of vegetables, being outdoors, the smell of dirt, and the overwhelming joy that growing brings.

Last Saturday, Better Half and I went to the farm to pick up my old Suburban. Upon arriving, 5 large deer bolted from the area of the garden.  My spirits took a nose dive and my feet scurried to the seedlings.  Nothing had been munched, but in that moment, I knew a deer fence had become an urgent necessity.

Sunday afternoon found us, once again, feasting on popcorn in the aisles of Rural King, as we bought fence posts, a half mile of wire, a fence charger, and other electric fence components.  (This little project of mine has introduced me to a variety of the most interesting subjects.  Not only can I carry on a conversation about electric deer fence, I can discuss wells and pumps, soil test results, seed starting, and the merits of various small tractors on the market today.)

 

A brisk bright Sunday afternoon saw the burn pile getting under way and the first fence posts driven.

Better Half posing with our half mile of wire as we begin to fasten it to the posts.

Once the fence was up, I smeared peanut butter on aluminum foil.  These tidbits were fastened to the wire fencing in hopes the deer would be attracted to them.  I know this sounds brutal, but I have countless hours invested in the seedlings, lots of dollars in seed, and huge hopes for a magnificent harvest of flowers and vegetables.  I know, from experience, that deer and gardens do not co-exist.

The mechanics of the electric fence - charger, marine battery, ground rods, all connected to the wire that encloses the field.  The ground rod is the tennis ball covered pipe on the right.

We decided on a second ground, and as I handed Better Half the tool to pound in the post, I accidentally touched the fence, which we had armed.  Holy Moly!  I won't make that mistake again.

And, if I were a deer, I would most certainly steer clear of the peanut butter smeared fence.

 Shadows are long as we wrap up the project. Here is the western side of the quite unassuming fence.

This is my beloved Hog Lot Flowers at Davis Farm 2017 with a dazzling view in the background.

And, here sit my tiny seedlings, safe behind two wires festooned with caution tape and smeared with peanut butter.

Much more to come . . . Stay tuned.