Well-meaning friends may express hope that we are enjoying the "nice" weather, meaning it's not horribly cold nor really snowy. They don't understand that the alternative to deep cold in a winter like this one is mud. Since it rained for almost 12 straight weeks last fall, and since there's not been enough frost to firm up the ground, every step in the pastures whether ours or the cows' creates a flow of mud. We are watching the remaining grasses trying to hold on, awaiting some cold to help their little roots survive. Driving across the corner field where we are feeding our clean hay creates tracks that ooze and squish from day to day under the tires. It's just too wet and not cold enough.
Is there a solution to this problem? A friend who constructed a large concrete pad to feed her cows on is facing a similar dilemma. She may have a solid surface on which to feed hay, however the cows still have to travel to it from elsewhere on the farm and are still creating lots of manure which now has to be moved elsewhere. So, not a complete solution.
If the warmth persists, we'll have cows calving in the mud, too. It is so much preferable to have a cow drop her calf into nice clean snow than onto a pile of mud! Most of our cows can be coaxed into the barn and confined for freshening (giving birth) but we don't always catch them in the act. Instead, we find wet, shivering babies who now must make their way to the udder with their brand new, wobbly legs on a squishy, shifting, unreliable surface instead of on firm ground. The challenge is magnified tenfold.
The bitter cold has once again frozen our Highland cows' pristine hillside springs so that our morning routine for the last two months includes chopping holes in the ice in order to open up places for them to drink. Last year during the Polar Vortex we were daily astounded at the phenomenon of "curved water": it was spooky the way the spring water flowed over the existing two-foot-thick ice sheets to create curved formations of ice. This year our ice is still pretty flat, however it's close to a foot thick. Yesterday we observed one of the cows get gracefully down onto her knees in order to drink from the deeply recessed hole that we had opened up.
We also noted that, contrary to their warm-weather behavior, they weren't all going to the watering holes at the same time, which of course results in the animals on the low end of the hierarchy having to mill around the stream, waiting for the dominant ones to finish drinking and leave. We saw that, as we arrived in the early morning with their hay breakfast, a small group of animals was returning from the spring. Later in the day, there was yet a different group apart from the fold (a herd of Highlands is called a fold) who had also just come back from getting a drink. Are they actually cooperating to make sure everyone gets a drink? Or have the less dominant ones just learned that they need to go separately from the rest of the group? A neat subject for further research, I'll keep you posted!
All of us winter-weary home gardeners and small-scale producers are anxiously awaiting the return of warmer temps, but I found that the tat soi, cilantro, parsley and lettuce that overwintered in the little A-frame "high tunnel" that my husband built me late in 2009 weren't idle - all were busy regrowing and getting ready for a new season. The tat soi is sugar-sweet and the parsley is concentrating flavor in the new leaves. Part of this concentration is due to its being a biennial and it's therefore preparing to put up seeds stalks - however, for late winter soup-making you can't beat these new leaves for hefty flavor! Along with the last of the root-cellared parsnips and turnips, and a few chunks of beef from one of our own animals, we're making some hard-to-beat suppers while enjoying the lengthening days.
I'll be starting tomato transplants, herb plants especially numerous basil varieties, and other plants soon from orders received over the winter, so don't delay in Emailing me your requests. Don't forget: if you want a particular type of tomato, and I don't already have the seeds, I'll need time to buy the seeds, so the last date for Email or phone order will be around March 18. If you have seeds but no way to get them started yourself, mail them to me with your requirements and your contact information and together we'll make a plan!
Happy Spring!
Debbie
Because of the late blight scourge of last year, I am growing transplants this year of a variety called Legend, which was developed by Dr. Baggett at the U. of Oregon. According to several sources which you can find on the Web, this tomato exhibits resistance to late blight and has proven itself in trials in the Pacific Northwest. Supplies are very limited - call or Email me to order early!
I also have a cherry tomato called Matt's Wild Cherry, which anecdotal evidence from around New York State says continued to produce copious amounts of small, very tasty cherry tomatoes even as companion tomato varieties succumbed to the blight around it. I have not grown Matt's for some years, but I do recall that the fruit is simply delightful, though I had to pick more to get the same volume as a "normal" cherry tomato. It's called "wild" because it's believed to be an ancestor of our modern cherry tomato varieties.
My hope is that the weather does not give this scourge another chance to wipe out our tomato and potato plants. But I expect to hear reports of the fungus still active around the Northeast, simply because home gardeners may not have known what was wrong with their plants and allowed the plant residues to overwinter near the gardens, instead of discarding them in a plastic bag as was recommended by our friends at the Cornell Cooperative Extension offices around New York, in Vermont and New Hampshire, and elsewhere. But we can try different plants to see how they fare, and our input on this experiment can be useful to future growers and to the researchers who are diligently working on breeding for late blight resistance.