When we last spoke...

Well, actually, I skipped a bunch of stuff in that first post. I skipped how I rented a sod cutter, cut up all of my grass in preparation for a gorgeous new yard and our sewer line broke to the tune of all of the money we had saved up for the yard and then some.

Then I decided I would put in a new sprinkler system myself and dug trenches through the back yard. It took me a day of really sweaty work to dig one trench. But I kept going for another couple of days only to realize that I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about sprinkler systems. (we looked on Google Earth yesterday and you can see the trenches from space...it looks like freaking half-finished alien crop grids. Awesome.)

At some point in all of this, I realized that the tree in the front yard wasn't a chestnut tree, which seemed sentimental in a Currier and Ives way but is totally useless to me as I don't eat nuts. It was a loquat tree. Lemme tell you, that shit is good.  Loquats are lovely, apricot-like fruit, but they don't really last more than a day off the tree, which is why you never see loquats at the market. So, if I was going to pick the loquats, I was going to have to do something with them.  I bought a ladder. I bought a fruit picker. I flung loquats jai alai-style into every neighbors yard within a block of me.  I eventually PUT. DOWN. THE. FRUIT PICKER.  I started canning.

Throughout it all, the Mr. was, for the most part, exceptionally supportive of my efforts. If he minded the sugar-encrusted walls in the kitchen and the awe-inspiring chasms in the yard, he didn't say so (much). He was also very supportive when I started picking up drills and saws and shovels and hoes (he he), as long as he didn't need to take me to the hospital. Toward which, I might add, I have a propensity. 

Now I have a beautifully planted side yard with 4 gorgeous raised beds producing snap peas, tomatoes, zucchini, strawberries and Kentucky beans. The fifth bed is in the main section of the yard where the entertaining patio will eventually live. It accommodates a sizable herb garden with oregano, sage, dill, rosemary, thyme, and basil. Separately, I have 4 pots of mint, each one a different kind, I think it's grapefruit mint, chocolate mint, peppermint and pineapple mint.  I'm going to experi-mint...ha ha.  Finally, there are pomegranate, peach, lemon and lime trees.The lemon and lime are doing poorly.  I can't quite figure out what I'm doing wrong with these, but that's another post.

Sounds good so far; but the farm is FAR from complete. I have that 60' x 24' patch of weed that was once the lawn, which I am turning into the core of the farm. The plans are drawn up, now I just need to start. It all begins with water. I can't really have a farm without it. So we're back to the sprinklers; which, I believe I might actually have to pay someone to install. It just seems like it's too important a job for me to screw up (I'm sorry, use as a learning experience).

I read. I love to read. When I find something I love to do, I read about it. I go to the library and check out books, I find magazines, I spend hours perusing Amazon for the best reviewed books. I started reading and doing, more reading, more doing.  Pros and cons. Horror stories and success stories. I read them all. It started with just a few books and a few raised beds. Then a composter. And another bed. Then a worm bin. Then another composter.  Eventually, I found my way to The Urban Homestead by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen. It's a good book. Funny. Clever. Well-written. They encourage getting backyard chickens.......

More tomorrow. :)

First farm post

Well, here I am again, back on the "blog wagon".  It's been a few years and I've made a bunch of life changes. One of which is that I found out how much I enjoy my little 0.14 acres of land in Burbank.

When the Mr. and I moved to Burbank in 2006, there was a pile of junk on the side of our new garage that was about a foot and a half high. When I cleared it out, it turns out there were these adorable little garden plots. Of course, it wasn't as easy as sinking some seeds and starting to grow.  The soil was compressed beyond comprehension.  I could barely get a shovel into it at all and I finally managed to plant a few things that promptly up and died on me.

Plan B.  I decided I would need to learn a new way of gardening so I went out and bought Square Foot Gardening (Mel doesn't know me and I don't know him, I just really like his book).  I read and read, and then I went to the hardware store and had lumber cut and shoved into my PT Cruiser.  I got out the drill and started drilling things together and the next thing I knew, I had two 8x3 raised beds.  I filled them with Mel's mix and planted some pumpkins and zucchini.  Lo and behold, I got pumpkins and zucchini!  Woo!

With some success on my side, I waited a few months and built another raised bed.  And then another raised bed.  I planted tomatoes.  I got slugs.  I ringed the beds in copper tape. I cut the hell out of my hands with it. I learned to use gloves.  I got tomatoes. I forgot to water.  I killed everything.

Another winter passed and while riding my silly trike through the alley behind our house, I saw an old, broken bookcase.  It looked like a raised bed to me. I persuaded the Mr. to help me drag it home.  He is very afraid when I drag stuff home. But, that very weekend I put on a 4th side and filled it with Mel's mix and planted strawberries.  Hence, begins the story of Bluestocking Farm.

I am really looking forward to writing this story and hope you enjoy it as well.  More tomorrow.