Welcome to the Friday Farm Fix, a new series on Farmgirl Fare where I share a random sampling of what's been happening around the farm during the past week. Just joining us? You'll find all the Friday Farm Fix posts here.
Vintage washtubs in the homemade greenhouse
How to describe this past week? Hot, dry, and way too dusty. We've had less than two inches of rain in the last eight weeks, which was supposed to be our rainy growing season (remember when the creek flooded last year?). The grass in the fields is already going to seed and burning up, and even the weeds are shriveled. You'd think it was the middle of August rather than the middle of May.
When the forecast is calling for a heat index of 127 degrees—and they've taken out the promised rain—you know it's time to just stop checking the weather.
My hunky farmguy Joe spent another week out of commission, though his back is slowly healing. He even came down to the sheep barn last night to help a little with chores—after the sun had ducked behind the ridge. He has one more week on the medicine that really knocks you for a loop if you go out in the sun.
In the meantime, the scenery is pretty, the air conditioner works, and there's plenty of food, which is good because that no-sun medicine has also given Joe a humongous appetite. Yesterday out the bedroom window we saw a doe with a baby fawn that was so small it looked like a rabbit. (And that gorgeous brown moth below was almost as big as the fawn.) And the bright side of having only one of us working outside for the past 20 days? There's a lot less dirty laundry!
I've been spending a lot of time in the garden, planting, weeding, and watering (these ultra light Water Right garden hoses are the best). From garden to kitchen: lots of Italian parsley, basil, and chives, Red Russian kale (from last year's plants), the entire bed of gourmet lettuce (it's more than it looks like once you start cutting!), green onions and spring onions, and of course Swiss chard.
My favorite basil pesto recipe (which works with green or purple basil) is here, and I'm thinking about parsley pesto. Have you ever made it?
28 more farm photos below. . .
Vintage washtubs in the homemade greenhouse
How to describe this past week? Hot, dry, and way too dusty. We've had less than two inches of rain in the last eight weeks, which was supposed to be our rainy growing season (remember when the creek flooded last year?). The grass in the fields is already going to seed and burning up, and even the weeds are shriveled. You'd think it was the middle of August rather than the middle of May.
When the forecast is calling for a heat index of 127 degrees—and they've taken out the promised rain—you know it's time to just stop checking the weather.
My hunky farmguy Joe spent another week out of commission, though his back is slowly healing. He even came down to the sheep barn last night to help a little with chores—after the sun had ducked behind the ridge. He has one more week on the medicine that really knocks you for a loop if you go out in the sun.
In the meantime, the scenery is pretty, the air conditioner works, and there's plenty of food, which is good because that no-sun medicine has also given Joe a humongous appetite. Yesterday out the bedroom window we saw a doe with a baby fawn that was so small it looked like a rabbit. (And that gorgeous brown moth below was almost as big as the fawn.) And the bright side of having only one of us working outside for the past 20 days? There's a lot less dirty laundry!
I've been spending a lot of time in the garden, planting, weeding, and watering (these ultra light Water Right garden hoses are the best). From garden to kitchen: lots of Italian parsley, basil, and chives, Red Russian kale (from last year's plants), the entire bed of gourmet lettuce (it's more than it looks like once you start cutting!), green onions and spring onions, and of course Swiss chard.
My favorite basil pesto recipe (which works with green or purple basil) is here, and I'm thinking about parsley pesto. Have you ever made it?
28 more farm photos below. . .
