I swung by my plot at the community garden this morning, and hung over the fence to gaze at it for a moment.  (The gate is frozen solid into the ground, or I would have let myself in).  Everything is still encrusted with a layer of snow – which, admittedly, has greatly receded with all the sunshine we’ve been having lately, and is nothing compared to what many storm-ravaged regions have experienced this winter.     

Even though spring seems tantalizingly within reach, our community garden group won’t do its annual spring clean-up until the second week of May…really, the weather here in Calgary isn’t usually co-operative before then. Indeed, in years past, the first spring work bee has been postponed a couple of times due to heavy snowfall. Last year, however, one of my garden plot neighbours was harvesting baby spinach and some lettuce at the end of May (right around the time many of us were still SOWING our first seeds). While we all stood around drooling at the sight of the mouth-watering green leaves, she let us in on her not-so-secret secret: she had seeded some of her crops while there was still snow on the ground.  Of course, we started muttering with jealousy (“why didn’t I do that?”), but my neighbour has been growing this way in Calgary for years and she’s not the only one.  As many experienced gardeners know, cold weather doesn’t have to matter.  I am serious about charging forward on a few season-extending ideas this year.  We can garden on the seasonal periphery!    

I definitely want to direct-sow a bit earlier this year than I’ve done previously.  I’m not going to wait until just the right ”planting weather” comes around (whenever/whatever THAT is).   I’m planning to build a small hoop tunnel in a similar style as my plot neighbour. You can see a bit of his design in the foreground of the photo. It’s a tried-and-true system and many of you have probably set up something of the sort in your own gardens. Some plastic sheeting will give the plants a leg up early in the season, and then I can switch over to a row cover, which should deter the inevitable flea beetle problem. My neighbour actually further employed his row cover as a hail guard last year, and it worked surprisingly well – I expected the hailstones to punch through the fabric but his set-up withstood all of our wicked storms last summer.  I’m all for salad greens that are not pre-mulched! 

How do you extend the growing season in your garden?  Do you use mini hoop tunnels or cloches?  Do you have a greenhouse or a polytunnel or any other type of set-up?

It was the dead of winter. A good foot of snow lay on the ground—the first in over a decade. Tom and I were to meet the forest management guy to look over the property and come up with a plan. Our plan included lowering the property taxes.

We’d never been to the property in the winter. Always when we traveled there, lightening bugs floated on humid summer breezes.

Although the land was bare, we planned and dreamed of what would grow on our farm. Cultivating our dream.

I longed for an orchard because there’s something romantic about it. I pictured myself walking under tall, green trees, heavy with fruit, meeting Snow White’s singing birds. I’d stop, reach up and grab a perfect peach, juicy and sweet. A bird would land on my arm. And I’d smile, knowing God and I had accomplished something extraordinary together.

Anxious to get our orchard growing, we decided to meet a local grower to see if we could plant the trees, water them and then leave them for a few weeks or a month. 

We met the farmer at his place blanketed by snow.

A large man wearing obligatory overalls, he viewed us through the eyes of generations of farming experience. A lens that captured our ignorant enthusiasm.

“So, when you plant the trees, you dig a hole…,” I hoped for detailed information.

“Yep, you dig a big old hole.” His toothpick shifted to the other side of his mouth.

I tossed the proverbial conversation ball back in his court. “And, you water it, right?”

The toothpick shifted furiously. His eyes squinted.

“Yes, ma’am, you do water the trees.”

We’ve held off on the orchard for now. Something tells me we’re not ready for trees and holes and watering.

But one day we will be.

Soon, I hope.

What about you? We’re right in between zones in NC near the VA border. What kinds of fruit trees have worked for you? Any particular brand that holds up better than others?

Since it’s still technically winter, I thought you all might be interested in one of my first farm adventures. I grew up a town kid, but I had friends that lived on dirt roads. When we moved to our home on a dirt road, I thought I knew what it was all about. Granted, I’d wrecked my dad’s MG on one of those roads, but that’s another story for a different day.  

Just after we got moved in and settled (and thank goodness the weather held that long), we got buried under almost 2 feet of snow.   

But then I had to make a grocery run. I have a truck, and plenty of vehicles had driven by on our road, so there were some ruts worn into the snow (since the plow doesn’t come out here). Easy, right? Stay in the ruts!  

Sure, it was easy until I got too big for my britches and went a little too fast. (I’ve always been a speed demon. They don’t call me Leadfoot for nothing!)  I varied only slightly from the ruts, but ended up burying my truck bumper deep in a drift across the road.   

I won’t bore you with what I said.Suffice to say, the air for about a mile in each direction turned blue. Luckily, my kids weren't with me. My husband was working from home that day, so I called him on my trusty cell phone.   

“Honey, I got stuck.Call a plow!”  

“What good would that do?” he replied in a puzzled tone. 

“You know what I mean.Call a tow truck.”  

He gave me the usual male advice about how much tow trucks cost and how to go forward and back in small increments.Under NO circumstances was I to gun it and spin the tires.He said to give him a few minutes and he’d get something arranged.   

The thought did pass through my head that I was less than a mile from home, and I have horses. I could just go back and get one and have HER pull me out. Almost immediately, the absurdity hit me. What was I going to do, tie a tow rope to her tail? I don’t think that either one of my horses would be pleased with that. Still, it would have made a great picture.  

Growling under my breath, I persevered. Back and forth, back and forth I went. The air got bluer. Lacking a shovel, I grabbed the next best thing: my ice scraper. I scraped and scraped snow out from behind my tires. By now the air was deep indigo. I had snow in my boots, halfway up my legs, and inside my gloves. Into the truck I climbed. Back and forth. Back and forth. I could barely see through the cloud of profanity. I lost my patience. I gunned it.  

And I got out. Or, more accurately, I shot out of that drift backwards like a four-wheeled cannonball. I just barely managed to stop before I slid into the opposite ditch. I called hubby to let him know that I was out, and he didn’t sound nearly as impressed as I thought he should. With some jolting (and more judicious gunning), I got back into the ruts. I made the grocery run.  

Coming back home, I saw my ruts in the snow and wondered how many people had driven by and wondered what dummy did THAT. My chagrin only increased when, as I was unloading the groceries AFTER getting back home, I remembered that WE HAVE  A TRACTOR. No wonder hubby was reluctant to call a tow truck.  

All that snow sure was pretty when it started to melt. It got easier to stay in the ruts too.  

At least I’m more used to farm life now. And now I always remember that we have a tractor. 

The Homestead has had some extreme weather the last few weeks.  10 and 16 below zero overnight New Years week, then up into the high 50s during the day.  Fortunately, not much damage was done.  Except to the electric bill. I finally decided it was more economical to put an extra heater in the pumphouse than to fight with frozen and broken water lines.  That made the biggest inconvenience the frozen water troughs.  The smaller ones froze solid for several days, the larger ones maintained over a foot of ice on the surface.  It was really tricky getting enough water to the animals during that period.  I almost resorted to running a hose from the water heater to the troughs just to help them thaw out faster.  There is just no easy way to chip through that much solid ice.

Perhaps I'll have to consider some heating elements for the water troughs now.  At least the hose thawed out after the first day.  Carrying water to 5 horses and a dairy cow is alot of work!  Not to mention the smaller animals.  A garden cart doesn't slide too well over snow.  I considered putting skis on it, but I already gave away my downhills and didn't want to ruin my cross countrys.

And speaking of the garden cart, hauling the hay to all the critters was quite a project without it.  I tried putting a bale on the old broken Radio Flyer sled, but it was too heavy and sank into the snow.  So now I'm brainstorming ideas for hand drawn transport of hay bales and water buckets over snow.  A sheet of aluminum roofing?  Sled runners for the garden cart?  Teach the horses to (gulp!) work?! and pull a wagon?  Any ideas?

Eleven inches.  That's how much snow I was under this last week.  It's definitely a change for southern Tennessee.  Just thinking about it makes me want to stay inside all day, but when there's work to be done, what can you do?  Well here are a couple of tips to make your frostbitten toes feel a little better:

1. Don't calve in winter.  About three days after the snow fell, I checked on the cows and found a cow with a new heifer calf.  I purchased the cow bred last year.  She calves just before Christmas so I expected another new arrival about now.  The rest of my cows calve between March and May, when it's much warmer.  Since she calved in winter, and there aren’t any growing grasses, I have to purchase alfalfa pellets to supplement her increased nutritional needs.

2.  Metal water troughs freeze faster than rubber or thick plastic.  Thin plastic troughs break too easily.  Your best case scenario is to keep a dark colored trough (or stock tank) out of the wind, but where the sun hits it.  The sunlight comes in from the southern part of the sky this time of year (as opposed to nearly directly overhead in summer), so blocking the wind on all but the south side of the tank is best.

3.  If possible, fill water bowls and stock tanks with just enough water for a 12-hour period (daylight).  It doesn't matter how much water your dogs or sheep or chickens have if the excess is covered in two inches of ice.  Whenever possible, ice skimmers or water warmers (or anything else that keeps the ice thawed) is best.

4. I have three words for you: Deep, dry, bedding.  If you keep bedding deep and out of the wind and rain, most pets and livestock do quite well.  If possible, try to avoid solitary animals.  Animals buddy up to keep warm.  Just don't go overboard and board up every little nook and cranny of your barn.  The moisture from the animal’s breath, urine, and feces needs to escape to keep everything dry.

5.  Use electricity wisely.  More than one barn has burned to the ground by a well-meaning farmer who plugged in a heat lamp.  Remember to keep cords away from animals, and use safety cages so if the light falls, a hot bulb won't be sitting on dry straw.  Personally, I only use heat in extreme cases.  Keeping livestock out of the wind and in the dry eliminates the need for extra heat most of the time.

I have been neglecting this blog. It has been such a rush to get the insulation put in the house we are building. The temperatures have been frigid in Western North Carolina and working in them is no picnic. On a farm you have to do what you have to do. Over Christmas we got a snow storm that dropped about 9 inches on us.

Luckily all the animals are doing well. We are expecting Bessie to have her calf by January 5. Hopefully she does not have it on the coldest day of the year like she did in 2009. This will be our first Dexter calf born on the farm.

We were not planning on going anywhere at all during the snow storm but low and behold we had to go get surplus milk for our pigs about 15 miles away on Christmas day. If we didn't go we risked it not being available to us next week. That was quite an adventure. The roads got terrible very quickly and on the way back the windshield wipers quit working on our 1987 Ford F250! Besides that we had a nice quiet Christmas at home. There is still 9 inches of snow or better on the ground but it is expected to melt off late in the week.

When it snows it always amazes me how excited our Great Pyrenees dogs get. They snow bathe. They love it! Our youngest Pyrenees, Ruby Pearl, had never seen more than a sprinkle of snow in her 9 months. She doesn't seem to like it quite as much as Jeb our 2 year old male. Ruby has decided to spend half her time inside sleeping in the shower. She has decided that a shower pan is an excellent dog bed. I am not sure if I should warn any potential house guests or let them discover the giant dog that lives in the bathroom.

I wish I had got some pictures of the pigs in the snow but to be honest with you we stayed inside a lot. We hadn't had a day off in a very long time so we took advantage of the weather. The goats look puffed up because they have their fuzzy winter coat. They seemed to not care for the snow too much. I guess that is understandable when one considers that goats are originally from the desert.

Our bull will be a year old in a week. He is starting to look like a real bull and not a calf. We have to get the brass knobs on his horns soon as he is getting quite a set on him. He is actually starting to get a hump on his back! I mistook him for a pregnant heifer today when I saw him from behind. If he wasn't still growing we would put him on a diet. When he is grown he will need to be kept in a seperate lot from the cows most of the time so that we can monitor his food intake a bit more. The same for George who is our future ox. It can be really easy to let a bull or ox get too fat. This can happen even more easily if the bull doesn't have enough cows to breed or he is cooped up with his cows so he does not have to pursue them around the pasture.

We found the most important thing during the cold was just to make sure everyone had plenty to eat.

We have lived on this farm about 30 years. Although I have a deep and true appreciation for all that we have and all that is around us, there is nothing that has made me actually see my surroundings like a Walkabout. For me, the walkabout is walking (sometimes driving) around the yard and farm with camera in hand. Occasionally, I veer off the path slightly by taking in and capturing the view on the way to work. Or sometimes the Mr. and I go for a drive somewhat off the beaten path, but still in our neck of the woods. The entire purpose is to view and share our surroundings. By doing this, it also helps us to fully embrace the simple beauty in our everyday life.

Here is a Walkabout from January. The snow was beautiful, but we were already growing weary of winter at this point. I traveled about the snowy yard and captured random images which caught my eye that day.

A snowy hay field; a promise of Spring in buds on a tree; barn kitty Hazel in said tree; our neighbors’ corn field; sparkling “diamonds” in the snow; icicles on our old farmhouse; snow “dunes” created by the strong north winds.

Somehow while peering through the lens and capturing these shots, I forgot about the cold winter winds. Winter seemed beautiful – at least for a little while.

One of my favorite walkabouts occurred recently, during the last week of February. Mr. W and I ventured out to view the Bald Eagles which have now become a regular seasonal fixture at and around our farm. Oh, how majestic they are, and truly breathtaking to view up close and personal!

I’ve shared many walkabouts on our Flat Creek Farm blog over the course of the past year. From just the everyday simple beauty, to our majestic national bird, it’s been fun to share our little corner of the world in pictures. As an added bonus, I’ve been blessed with a renewed “attitude of gratitude” for all that is our life and farm. Simple though it may be, it is a good life.

I recommend that you too go out there and experience your very own walkabout in your very own corner of the world. Who knows? You may also reap unexpected rewards!

Even though we had high hopes for a winter garden this year, our dream came to a tragically beautiful end a few days ago. We had been keeping our eyes on the Dallas news stations as snow began to fall, and fall ... and fall. I had to admit that when the weatherman said some areas were going to receive up to a foot, I actually felt snow envy.

We are about an hour and 20 minutes southeast of the Dallas area. As the Dallas/Ft. Worth area was becoming a Currier & Ives postcard, we were becoming an ice-cold rainy mess. I cursed the weather report and told my cowboy artist that I would gladly trade this horrible, muddy ice cold rain for a few inches of snow. The “jazz hands” weatherman (we named him that long ago because of his absurdly exaggerated hand movements and overly excitable personality) kept pointing out the fact that the big snow event was going to miss our area and head further northeast.

No snow day for us, or so we thought. Oh, a few big flakes and some ice pellets hit our metal roof throughout the evening, but we were convinced it would all be gone by morning. The last radar report before bed showed the snow line well above our area and heading off where it was supposed to go. 

I woke up early the next morning and listened to the silence, no early morning traffic along the road, no bellowing from cattle, not even our roosters were crowing their morning hello to the day. I jumped out of bed and looked across the frozen landscape and was sure that I had woken possibly back East, not East Texas. Our rain gauge was no longer measuring rain, it was completely covered by SNOW!!

Our winter challenged garden was now officially declared a disaster area, but instead of cursing Mother Nature – we embraced it, savoring a little slice of winter wonderland, if only for a day or two. We spent the morning enjoying the quiet whiteness, giving extra feed to the animals, walking through my cowboy’s family cemetery and enjoying this peacefulness that only a snow blanketed landscape can provide. It was a magical day.

This Tuesday they are forecasting another snow storm for northeast Texas. Surprise me Mother Nature! Even though it causes disruption of the farm routine and a little more work later, I’m secretly keeping my fingers crossed that we get another Currier & Ives moment.

As the week rolled into the weekend, it was apparent winter was well on its way to the 45th Parallel.

By Friday morning, life at Russ-Stick Acres was taking on a different look.

Our driveway, as we know it, is now defunct.

Impassable.

Even with the assistance of our tractor.

We don’t have a short drive ... we have a journey.

That Friday night, at the start of the weekend, I was picked up on my return home from work by several friends – Ranger, Astro, Solo, Charlie, Jeff and Rustic Russ.

Dog team. And driver.

I had stopped at the store earlier in the day and loaded up on some staples.

Upon parking at the end of the drive by the road, we transferred all the groceries, my camera, and essentials into the sled bag to haul to the cabin. We did this in the dark, bitter cold, blowing snow.

I then stood on the runners, shared by Rustic Russ, and experienced a frosty, cold drive through drifts back to the warmth of the woodstove in our main cabin – Rustic Russ, sometimes running along the sled, assisting the dogs through deep drifts.

It was good to be home.

A roast from our own steer, braised to perfection, was poised for consumption. The aroma filled the air like Yorkshire pudding.

Warm, safe and sound.

The dogs were more than happy to oblige. They love to feel like a part of our working farm.

Home via dog sled.

The most reliable transportation on earth.

Until next time – God willing,

Woodswoman

Fully 49 states received snowfall in the last week. Even rural Georgia – Odom’s Idle Acres – found itself covered in 4 inches of beautiful, powdery, Bing Crosby song-inspiring snow. For most it is just an excuse for a day off work or out of school or a reason to slick up the garbage can lid and head for the nearest hill. But for those who see snow as an epicurious test to our homesteading skills it is the perfect reason to make up a batch of Snow Cream.

Snow Cream is akin to ice cream tasting almost as good but definitely twice as much to make. Not to mention the way mother nature does most of the work as opposed to a more traditional method of freezing a custard mix as a first step.

So how do we make this Snow Cream? It’s really quite easy. Needing only a little dairy, some sugar and vanilla flavoring/extract, the largest ingredient is just outside the front door: fresh snow.

Word to the wise, DO NOT try to use snow that is within footsteps of your coop or in the goat pen or where your dog typically finds respite.

But why does snow lend itself to this treatment? Well, let’s think about ice cream for a second. Ice cream is basically a collection of tiny frozen crystals of milk/egg/vanilla/sugar beaten together with air. Snow is fluffy frozen water crystals. So it would serve to reason that all we need to do is add the flavor to try and match one of Baskin-Robbins 31.

Okay, time to get all nerdy real quick.

Because snow has different ratios of water to air based on outside temperatures, wind speed and velocity there is no tried and true recipe for Snow Cream but rather a suggested method. You can fill in your own blanks and add your own flavoring as desired.

INGREDIENTS (based on 1 gallon of Snow Cream)

1 gallon fresh, white snow
1 cup milk
0.5 cup sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla

The directions are nothing more than mix all your ingredients together and freeze for an additional 10 minutes to harden.

I added some chocolate syrup to my first bowl and then added some homemade strawberry jam to my second bowl.

While I sit watching the snow fall, I can’t help contemplating the last snowstorm. Near zero temps and 2 feet of snow provided a base for snow play that lasted nearly 2 weeks here in Northern Arizona.

Whereas last time my chainsaw needed parts, I had already gone through all my cut wood, and my woodstove glass was broken, this time I am sitting in front of a toasty fire with a sizeable stack of wood nearby and more outside. We are stocked up with popcorn and cocoa and have hot and cold water running through heat-taped pipes. (It’s the little things.)

With all that snow on the ground for so long, I was inspired by the cross-country skiers I spied in Flagstaff when we were snowed in there. When we got home, I discovered a frozen pipe and drove to the next town for parts. Back home again, I went into the storage shed for some insulation, and, lo and behold, there were my old downhill skis. Not just mine but also my grown childrens’ old skis, and sure enough we found a pair with boots that fit my 6-year-old son.

Now, I am a convert to cross-country skiing, having first learned downhill by being taken to the top of the steepest run and left to make my way down as best I could. Ha, ha. I enjoyed many years of downhill on more sensible slopes after that. My first experience with cross-country skiing came on a ski trip in Yosemite National Park (on real cross country skis). The first day was all uphill. I can’t seem to learn anything the easy way. After that trip my downhill skis entered their second life as semi-cross-country skis. By leaving the boots unbuckled, one can achieve a fair semblance of cross country skiing. And by the way, did I mention you can also avoid paying those outrageous prices for lift tickets? I enjoyed several FREE days in the woods with my semi-cross-country skis, a thermos of hot soup, and a thermos of hot cocoa.

After moving to Arizona, the skis did not get much use. Either we didn't have enough snow, or I was too busy working. Now with my priorities reordered, skiing has a chance to get its fair share of time. I took out the skis, boots and poles and outfitted my son. I told him to wait there while I got my skis and boots on. He didn’t. So he spent his first 20 minutes on skis learning the most important lesson – how to get back up. After showing him how to use the ski poles to help himself, I managed to get my boots adjusted and snapped into my skis. With just a few pointers about keeping his skis straight, not crossing them, steering, stopping, and balancing with the poles, he was off skiing. We skied all around the property every day until the snow melted, coming in to warm ourselves in front of the fire and drink hot cocoa in our own private ski lodge. Then we stored the skis away in the closet. I hear them in there now, pawing at the door, trying to get out. Just a few more inches of snow ...