Thousands of Greenhouse Starts Get Transplanted in the Fields

Planting in the Field

We've started planting the greenhouse plants in the field.

Starting Transplants

This is a few days before we start transplanting about 4,000 plants from the greenhouse to the main vegetable field.

School Field Trip to the Farm

One of many local high school trips to Whole Circle Farm see what organic and biodynamic farming is all about.

Possible Case of Early Blight

We noticed spots on some tomato leaves. We removed any suspicious leaves, and tried to reduce the humidity level in the greenhouse. We also sprayed the plants with a solution of water, sunflower oil, dishwashing soap and cayenne.

Paper Cuts vs. Backbreaking Work

I was worried that my back would act up, doing this "backbreaking" work.
But my back hurt more from sitting at a desk, than it does out here. As long as I stretch morning and night I'm good.

Greenhouse

We've planted thousands of vegetable seeds in the last month. This is the first in a series of seed planting and potting up in the greenhouse, to be followed by transplanting germinated plants outside in the ground.

The greenhouse is kept to a 10 to 30 Celcius temperature range with a wood pellet stove. During the day we roll up the sides when it gets too hot. A fan is always running to keep a uniform temperature, and also, to move force out excess heat, and to reduce plant disease.

Watering is a challenge. There is a fine line between too much and too little water.
Too little water, and plant growth is hindered. Too much water can also hinder growth, and can foster algae on the soil surface. The algae can form a crust, which can hinder capillary action in the soil, which is essential for letting water out. The crust can also hinder newly applied water from penetrating the soil.

Ideally we'd water the plants with a spray gun, walking up and down the tables, but inevitably each tray requires different amounts of water. So spot watering is required.

These young plants are susceptible to minor factors. For example, we noticed that the plant in the corner of each tray where the white plastic label is positioned is typically more developed than the other plants in the same tray. This is likely because of the additional light reflected onto the corner plant by the highly reflective plastic label.

We've Got Piglets

Biointensive Garden Project

Each intern has a major project. Mine is to create and manage a biointensive plot.
It's a fancy way to describe the dense growing of plants by "double digging" the soil, which allows the roots to reach deeper, adding lots of compost, and allowing compatible plants to grow together. The principles originated in many places, such as rural Paris gardens in WWII, and Irish and Chinese gardens.

Why am I interested in biointensive farming? After my experiment this summer with nine 20 x 5 foot beds I'd like to try it on an acre or more. It would also be fun to try out, or teach, in an urban setting.

I got help from Monique to broadfork the plots (a broadfork is twice the width of a pitch fork, and is used to loosen the soil without churning it).

The other interns' projects are:
Heather - greenhouse
Andrew - Chickens
Monique - Bees (and flowers)
Nitya - Permaculture

More on these later.

Hot Compost

First attempt at creating a hot (Thermophilic) compost. Bottom layer is a foot of large sticks and cornstalks, then alternating layers of straw, wet vegetable matter, and soil. The bacteria in the soil helps to innoculate the pile with the bacteria necessary to break it down into compost. It should get to about 160 degrees maximum, and after 7 to 9 days will cool down. This pile got to 122 Farenheit within one day, then cooled down. It might not have had enought wet vegetable matter.

Abhi - Our Garden Manager

My First Tractor Lesson

I'm really not posing.

The Interns

Eating lunch in front of the house.
From left: Abhi, Monique, Nitya, Heather, Andrew, Peter

Marx Brother in the Barn

In my new farm environment I've been reminded a couple of times of how easily seemingly innocent situations can go awry. The other day, for example, I walked into the barn ahead of the other interns for the 5 0'clock chores. In my naive eagerness I set the stage for a kind of Marx Brothers' imbroglio involving several fifteen hundred pound cows, a half dozen new born piglets and their irate mother, and about ten shoats or, "juvenile" pigs, appropriately named for their curious and tireless nature. Oh, let's not forget the four hundred pound sow, "Veronika;" and me, weighing in at 180 pounds; that is, if I've consumed my dozen pancakes that morning. In an Italian opera the characters' costume is important. In this self-made rural Ontario farm opera the weight of each participant is what really matters.

Part of the 5 o'clock chores is to let the milk-producing cows into the barn, for brushing. Brushing the cows is an integral part of the biodynamic philosophy of Whole Circle Farm. For their brushing the dozen or so cows enter two areas, each with its own door. Each cow knows which door to enter. It's a habit reinforced by getting a sweet potato in their stall every time they get brushed. Twelve sweet potatos. Twelve cows. Two areas, each with an entrance door. Pretty simple. But leave out a couple of these details and it's chaos.

I thought another intern was right behind me, but it turned out he was doing something else. So my first error was to not wait for him or another intern to come down and set up the cows for brushing.

The second error was that I opened only one door, not two. Finally, I did not place a sweet potato for each cow. Unbeknownst to me, the stage was set for what was to follow, and lucky for me the result is a funny story (and a rule for me to employ in future), and not a coroner's report.

I opened one of the doors. The correct cows came in, at first. But one by one they did not see a sweet potato in their stall, and they began mooing and backing up. But more cows came in, including cows that could not get into the other area, because I had not opened the other door.

Seeing my error I dashed to open the door to the other area. A few cows came in, but in my panic I'd repeated my error of not placing the beloved sweet potatos, so I created a small-scale version of the operetta going on in the larger area.

By now Veronika the sow had entered the scene. She waltzed passed the cows and into the inner pathway, paying a visit to the little piglets and her mother, who started barking and snorking to Veronika. The juvenile pigs followed Veronika's example, and about five of them made a move, running through the forest of cow hoofs.

Harpo Marx riding bare-back on Veronika would have been a perfect addition to the unfolding fiasco.
"Ah, I need assistance in the barn," I radiod over my walky-talky.

WHile waiting for more interns to arrive I methodically and cautiously got order restored, first by shoo-ing out Veronika (and Harpo) and the juveniles, then by ushering out each cow. The place was a cacophony of bleating, mooing, barking (yes, pigs can let out a dog-like bark), and of course, squealing; but the squealing might have been me.

My lesson in this is to pay close attention to what you do, and to be mindful of the reason why certain things are done the way they are. For example, at least two people are required to set up the cows for brushing. Their are numerous other situations on the farm which require care and mindfulness.