what is happening, richard??
Jun. 10th, 2005 | 07:25 am
mood: melancholy
What better way to start my new farmer blog than to document a most devastating hail storm that we received a few nights ago. It is by far, the worst hail storm that I have ever experienced in my short 25 years of life. Of course, it happens within the first few months of my new career as an organic gardener/farmer. Why not get it over with, eh?
I'll give you a bit of background first: After a break in the weather, we had some dry, hot days to get a majority of our summer crops in the ground, and felt pretty good about ourselves. Our tomatoes were big, beautiful plants with healthy green foliage and dense stems. The lettuces and greens were tucked neatly away from those pesky deer behind a 7,000 volt electric fence, and we were right on target to start shipping to the local co-ops tomorrow. (Sidenote: We are growing primarily specialty greens, vegetables, and herbs. Mainly what our larger and more experienced counterparts at Gardens of Eagan are NOT growing, thus we can complement their produce at local co-ops and the Diffley's roadside stand.)
Then a huge thunderstorm roiled in late two nights ago, complete with large, mean hail that pounded down for what seemed like an eternity! The actual feeling during the hailstorm was a feeling of despair, helplessness, and anger. The storm made me understand why past cultures have deified the weather to such a great extent. When one is actually dependent on the weather for even just a bit of your livelihood and sustenance, then a violent thunderstorm such as this seems like a personal and grave punishment and omen. It definitely made me want to run back to the city.
Well, our field is not a pretty sight. With anywhere from two to four inches of rain, extreme hail and wind, our field is a washed-out, compacted mess. All of our vegetables, some of which had been transplanted the day before, are battered and look just plain sad. We walked our field with the Diffley's and Meaghan, and they all said it didn't look so bad. Our tomatoes are stripped down to two to six leaves if we are lucky. Our lettuce has holes the size of golfballs. Our beautiful beds of glorious salad mix are beaten down to the ground. Enough said....
This weekend, we are going to try to be good to ourselves. I don't like to go outside and see the damage, but staying inside is even more depressing. What we really need is some structure to keep us busy and keep our minds off the horror of the reality of the situation. But nothing to do in field, too wet, too ugly, everything needs time to recover. Atina told me the best advice she received was to go away for 10 days and when you come back everything will be growing back and look almost like new! I'll believe it when i see it.....
I'll give you a bit of background first: After a break in the weather, we had some dry, hot days to get a majority of our summer crops in the ground, and felt pretty good about ourselves. Our tomatoes were big, beautiful plants with healthy green foliage and dense stems. The lettuces and greens were tucked neatly away from those pesky deer behind a 7,000 volt electric fence, and we were right on target to start shipping to the local co-ops tomorrow. (Sidenote: We are growing primarily specialty greens, vegetables, and herbs. Mainly what our larger and more experienced counterparts at Gardens of Eagan are NOT growing, thus we can complement their produce at local co-ops and the Diffley's roadside stand.)
Then a huge thunderstorm roiled in late two nights ago, complete with large, mean hail that pounded down for what seemed like an eternity! The actual feeling during the hailstorm was a feeling of despair, helplessness, and anger. The storm made me understand why past cultures have deified the weather to such a great extent. When one is actually dependent on the weather for even just a bit of your livelihood and sustenance, then a violent thunderstorm such as this seems like a personal and grave punishment and omen. It definitely made me want to run back to the city.
Well, our field is not a pretty sight. With anywhere from two to four inches of rain, extreme hail and wind, our field is a washed-out, compacted mess. All of our vegetables, some of which had been transplanted the day before, are battered and look just plain sad. We walked our field with the Diffley's and Meaghan, and they all said it didn't look so bad. Our tomatoes are stripped down to two to six leaves if we are lucky. Our lettuce has holes the size of golfballs. Our beautiful beds of glorious salad mix are beaten down to the ground. Enough said....
This weekend, we are going to try to be good to ourselves. I don't like to go outside and see the damage, but staying inside is even more depressing. What we really need is some structure to keep us busy and keep our minds off the horror of the reality of the situation. But nothing to do in field, too wet, too ugly, everything needs time to recover. Atina told me the best advice she received was to go away for 10 days and when you come back everything will be growing back and look almost like new! I'll believe it when i see it.....
