Tag Archives: seeds

ways not to farm: part II, potatoes

I promised a post on Ways Not To Plant Potatoes, so here it is:

We dug a little trench, placed our seed potatoes at appropriate intervals, and covered them with soil. We planted these guys four inches deep, per the instructions from Seeds of Change. So far, so good, right?

Well, I guess it’s good until you have to mound them. Mounding potatoes that have sprouted at ground level is a royal pain the petutie. The whole time, you’re fighting gravity and erosion, not to mention the voluminous potato plant that has lots of airspace between its lower branches — which further fends off the mounding effort.

The first 6-12 inches of mounding was pretty easy. But after that, we found ourselves cutting a deep trench–great for tripping over, by the way–into the path just to try and get enough soil to dump on top of the potato row. We used wheelbarrows. We used shovels. We used hoes. We struggled mightily.

Next time, we are planting the potatoes in a deep trench, which we can then simply cover over–by eroding in the sides of the trench, instead of fighting erosion–as the bushes grow up. (We’ll make sure the trench is fairly wide, or at least in a well-dug bed, because potatoes have a hard time busting through compacted soil, and the potatoes tend to sprout out to the sides).

You know, I’d visited a big-scale potato farm that seemed to have their potatoes mounded up well above the surface–a good two feet, neatly done–but come to think of it, they had big gigantic machines that did that. The human labor for above-ground mounding potatoes, at least in our situation, was way too much work.

This is another of those greenhorn moments: while we’ve tended potato beds before, we’d never had to go through the whole process ourselves, from the planting to the mounding to the harvesting. From the start, it’s been an eye opening process, and I’m getting a little nervous for the finish: I can’t wait for the harvest, but I’d better not get my hopes up. Our watering has been a system of guesswork. Our soil is a tad on the clay side, although we did add manure. And while the bushes look beautiful, it’s a little scary having no idea what the crop is doing underneath the soil! Here’s hoping.

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live-blogging from the sustainable sonoma tent

The Sonoma County Fair has wireless… who knew?! Emmett and I are here staffing a local food both in the Sustainable Sonoma tent, chatting with folks about local food, farmer’s markets, seeds (we had a seed ID game going for a while), and whatever else comes up. We’ve also gotten the chance to run around the fair itself, which is a great and wonderful and crazy conglomeration of all that Sonoma County has to offer. Since I grew up in suburban San Diego and didn’t really know what 4-H and FFA were until, well, college, it’s been awesome to run around and see the beautiful cattle, lambs, goats, swine, rabbits, owls, llamas, geese, ducks, and miniature donkey — and the kids who are proudly showing them off. I admit, I still didn’t know what the green tie-with-white-clover meant, and asked Emmett “Does that mean they’re from Cloverdale?” (No, it just means 4-H, silly.)

I was also really intrigued by the fair’s giant pig, supposedly 7 feet long and 4 feet tall, but it cost 50 cents to get in and I was saving up for the ridiculously overpriced but delicious-looking Johnny’s Garlic fries. Since when do French Fries cost $6?! (Since you have no other option, I guess, just like at baseball and football games.)

But on to the less-happy part of the fair. I admit, the local food booth has been a bit depressing. I had imagined it being like the farmer’s market: meeting people who are excited to talk about local food, our produce, their gardens, and anything else on the topic of sustainable agriculture. And while I did meet a number of people who were friendly and interested (a huge thanks to those of you who offered a smile and picked up the blog address!), there were also a few things that cast an unfortunate shadow over the all-American glory and hopefulness of the Sonoma County Fair.

One woman said (and I quote), “Not to offend you two or anything, but I just can’t shop at the farmer’s market. The produce looks terrible.”

I was a little taken aback, but managed to say, “Well, sometimes our produce has holes because many small-scale farmers don’t use pesticides…”

She interrupted me. “No, it’s just that sometimes the produce looks like hell. Just like that,” she said, pointing emphatically to the Swiss Chard we had displayed in a vase. Now I admit the chard is a little wilted — we’d harvested it for the Sunday market, so it’s a few days old — but why go out of your way to say that our produce looks “like hell?” And as for her theory on farmer’s market produce, I always thought that generally farmer’s market produce looks considerably better than the produce in your average grocery store. It might come in different sizes, strange colors, and occasionally have holes in the leaves, but it’s usually harvested fresh that morning and picked when ripe — not like the grocery store, where produce is days, weeks, even months from the field, and is often harvested unripe (especially true with tomatoes!) and then sprayed with ethylene to ripen it in the store. Furthermore, we farmer’s marketers don’t grow the types of veggies that are bred specifically for transportability and longevity. (E.g., thick-skinned, acidic tomatoes that can be stacked high without smushing and last a long time.) We grow veggies for taste, and bring them to folks ASAP!

This is a bit of a rant, but I have to get it off my chest. Note to the world: prefacing a comment with “Not to offend you” does not mean that you can then go ahead and get away with being extremely offensive.

That was just one story out of a few. In short: a handful of bad apples were making our day feel a bit spoiled. Then, while someone else was using half our booth (and three people don’t really fit), Emmett and I wandered around the fair. When we came back to the local food booth, all of the seeds we had put on display had been either taken or knocked off the table and trampled: a fairly devastating loss. (The seeds were in cups, and part of a clearly-labeled ID-that-seed game.) We lost an entire packet’s worth–and our last packet at that–of lacinato kale, a good bit of rainbow chard, and a heck of a lot of bunching onions, blue lake beans, and jack-o-lanterns. I was a bit disappointed that the man sharing our booth hadn’t watched over our stuff better, since we let him set up a half hour early and gave him the run of the place for an hour and a half. His response: at least he prevented someone from walking away with one of our two garlic braids. Why would someone take what was obviously a display item? (And my summer’s worth of personal garlic, by the way?) It just made me feel a bit down about humanity in general.

After that, Emmett & I packed up our things and only left out a bare skeleton of informative materials out at the booth. My heart wasn’t really in it anymore. My body still is, though: Now I’m typing on my computer, a hermit in the crowd. A woman just came up, drummed on the table, and said loudly “The bags! The bags! Where are the bags? Do you have the bags?” No, I do not have the bags. If she had asked more nicely, maybe I would have mentioned that Sonoma County Water in the Grace Tent has them. (If you haven’t been to the fair yet, check this out: You can get a free tote for suggesting one way to save water. I mentioned that we use drip irrigation instead of overhead sprinklers to water our crops, and got one.)

A final last note: the evening crowd of people seem much more interested in my Kleen Kantene water bottles (for personal use, unrelated to display) than in local food. Folks keep picking them up and asking about them–I finally had to put them under the table, because it’s a little weird to have a bunch of strangers handling the bottle you drink from. I wish they’d pick up a Buy Local guide, one of the farmer’s market brochures, or a little card about the blog instead!

Time for some garlic fries — and after that, a Heidi Newfield concert! Hopefully some good, local country music will lift our spirits. Even if it does, though, I don’t know if I’ll take a day out of my life to volunteer at the fair again… But I’ll definitely visit, and I’ll be extra nice to all of the people staffing the booths. Heck, maybe I’ll bring them coffee.

I’ll post some pictures of our booth once I get home…

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