Germination! Tractor Equipment! Fooling the World!

Posted on March 13, 2013 by wagnere1

Because you demanded it: More pictures of the awesome Strider. Oh, finished painting the greenhouse, too.

At night Strider and I put on our headlamps (yep, he’s got one, too – even had one before I did), and we mosey out to the toolshed and greenhouse to tuck in the seedlings, fill up the newly-purchased kerosene heater and cross our fingers that nothing burns down, explodes or short-circuits during the night.

Besides worrying about my seedlings – to the point that I am making purely positive and orchestral-heavy Spotify playlists to listen to in there with them – the farm planning since the last post has included a ton of paperwork. I finally finished my Greenmarket application! But I’m waiting on a couple insurance questions before I fire it off to NYC. It was a big project – certainly the biggest paperwork project I’ve had since my job at Child Advocates – and it was quite satisfying to finish.

Some of the details have really propelled my own organizing. Having to list every variety, required row feet, estimated plants and yields and planting and availability dates really made me write everything out. I spent a lot of time cross referencing the Johnny’s seed catalog, Keith’s book and the full size wild animals calendar I carry around with me everywhere (and believe me, folks at doctor’s appointments find this strange and amusing).

I’ve been keeping track of everything in this big binder, including all my expenses and receipts, all my Growing for Market newsletter and legal paperwork.

My big bad 2013 folder – and no, I didn’t make my section dividers out of cut up county band folders from high school…and no, the cover doesn’t suggest that I lifted the binder itself from a Child Advocates recycling bin…

My extension agent, Tianna DuPont, came out to the property to meet us and see the land so she could write a third-party verification letter for the application and so she can help us more specifically as we move into planting and harvesting. She suggested adding phosphorous to the beds as we go along, and was overall one of the coolest women I’ve ever met. I’m stoked to work with her more, and I am signing up for her Organic Vegetable Production class (provided there are still openings as of this post). My mom took her Small Farm Dream class last year while I was at Keith’s and was very happy with it.

I have two of these contraptions currently set up in the greenhouse – one full of onions and one recently filled with kales, lettuce, raab, arugula, herbs and more!

And a few days ago, we woke up to hundreds of seedlings – onions, lettuces, kales, arugula, broccoli raab and other brassicas are showing their little clover-like seedling faces. Baby basil just popped up yesterday, along with the first traces of thyme, tarragon and little hints of rosemary from seed (which I was skeptical about even working in the first place).

They live! They live! The cutest little onion seedlings you ever did see.

This was my favorite part of Keith’s farm and has always been one of my favorite parts of gardening since forever. Especially after a few panicked days where I was convinced that I had killed everything, seeing these little guys made me realize that even though it will still be challenging (like regulating air temperature and airflow in an imperfect greenhouse without self-regulating equipment), it is possible.

So many onions. Get ready to cook.

Plus, seedlings just look so darn cute.

These wee baby brassicas say “Good morning, world!”

I could not be a prouder mother.

And after countless hours researching equipment websites, craigslist, visiting scattered places around the state and being generally flummoxed about finding, transporting and dealing with the challenges of obtaining used farm equipment, everything harmonized and Glenn and I found a chisel plow and disc up the street from the farm. An old acquaintance of his runs used car lots and has recently moved into antique tools and tractors, and had these two pieces fresh from an auction.

Chisel Plow!

Disc Harrow!

So these two pieces are living happily up at the property. Glenn will have to use his big Case IH to do this plowing – the chisel plow (above) is used for primary tilling, so he’ll drive that through the areas I’ll plant first to break up ground and knock down the clover growing there. After a week, he’ll come through the same areas with the disc for secondary tillage, knocking down remaining organic matter, cutting up the soil and evening it to make an even, smoother seedbed.

The idea here is that he’ll do these tasks in bigger sections (leaving clover in the pathways so we don’t need to seed anything else there at Tianna’s brilliant suggestion), and I will go through with the International 274 once it’s equipped with cultivators and use it as a sort of tertiary tillage before we plant into it. And then, of course, use it for cultivating and weeding between the rows of plants. The problem I’m facing is find some of the missing parts for this little, old tractor. I found a site that sells the sweeps and shanks I need for cultivators, but I am missing part of the toolbar to attach said sweeps and shanks on one side of the tractor. So this is my current daunting project.

Things are chugging along over here. Daylight savings has really knocked me back as I really like waking up in the sun, but the night haven’t been too cold, I have a heater and a fan set up in the greenhouse to try to prevent mold, and I’m reading, scheduling and organizing. Soon I’ll be seeding some plants to sell as potted plants in plant-able Jiffy Pots, and this week I have promised myself to create a CSA layout to share with interested parties. So keep me in the loop if you think you’d like to get in on that.

In the Lehigh Valley and in Philly, I’m starting to fool people into believing I know what I’m doing (though the experienced folks still know better). I’ve been taking notes when other folks are explaining their processes to me. I can talk a little more confidently about what I’m planting when and how. I realized that, no matter what, I can always do everything by hand if necessary. Last weekend I was in buying a wheelbarrow tire at the hardware store and a man mistook me as an employee and I asked where the pruners were because I looked like I knew what I was doing. These are silly, inconsequential things, but for someone who is scared and unsure of what’s ahead, it give me the boost I need to keep moving.

Keep your fingers crossed for sun!

-Farmer Liz

Onion Babies!

Posted on February 28, 2013 by wagnere1

Working in the dirt. You know, sort of.

The season has officially begun!

Yesterday after some bribing and coercing (just kidding) I wrangled my mom and aunt out for some farm work. We set up on a future greenhouse bench in the back garage at the house and spent the better part of the morning and afternoon seeding onions.

We mixed the Pro-Mix Organik potting mix with a pit of Gard-N-Tone organic soil amendments for an added kick.

We mixed the Promix Organik potting medium with Garden-tone soil amendments for an added boost.

And what better to do on a rainy Wednesday in February? Armed with Keith’s new book, a radio and a Frankie Valli CD, we drilled holes in the bottoms and some of the lids of piles of old salad containers Mom’s been collecting for a year or so, covering the excess clear patches with black tape. We then filled the containers with potting mix from the wheelbarrow, moistened the soil with a spray bottle of water, made little furrows in the containers (about 1/4 in deep, one in apart), and dropped in something like 20-35 seeds in each furrow depending on length.

What a ham.

Here are all the onions we’ll (hopefully) be offering!

We then labeled the sides of the container with the seed’s variety, company, organic status (some of the Fedco and Johnny’s seeds aren’t certified organic), and date seeded. I set them up in our newly-erected heating mat (more on that later), dragged out a hose and misted the flats. This may sound simple enough, but all told we ladies were chugging away for a few hours (with lunch breaks, of course), and seeded something like 5,000 onions! I’ve got a bit more to do today now that I’ve made some space and know that the heating coils won’t burn down the greenhouse (there was some concern, if only from my insane brain, that that might happen, which led to many visits to the mats throughout the day and night).

Seed those onions!

We also seeded a few cells of basil and lemongrass for fun. The lemongrass seed smells great, and I’m going to start some basil and other herbs soon to sell in Jiffy Pots over at Health Habits, where I’m working part-time (or to any of you who want some!).

My little babies. all waiting to be tucked in to bed.

Last night I brought out some leftover greenhouse plastic and tucked the little onions in for bed. Covering them at nights keeps some of the heat from escaping. But when you lift up the containers the bottoms are warm, which is just what we wanted! Thank you, ladies.

“Goodnight, onions,” she said in her best Christopher Walken voice.

And thank you, Keith. His book is intricately outlined and details propagation, transplanting and harvest for most of what I’m growing. And I hear his voice with that light New Zealand accent as I’m reading, which is awesome and hilarious.

Our dear friend Anthony supplied us with drum caps for our passive solar heat!

Yesterday was also a big day for mail! My friend and farmer compadre Anthony ordered some cap samples for me for our water barrels, which I’ve covered with black trashbags and which we hope we can use as passive bottom heating for our trays as the water in them heats up. Caps are trickier to find than the barrels themselves, and it was great to have such a helpful resource to procure them.

Two other recent purchases arrived – one was a riveting book about manure, that I feel will be helpful but know I’ll already have a really difficult time reading.

This looks like a college desk – this is why I DIDN’T go to grad school, ahhhh.

The other arrival was more fun – A walk-behind Earthway Seeder. These guys are perfect for direct seeding all sorts of produce, from beans and peas to turnips and radishes. You change the metal plates to the size of seed and – well, I haven’t even assembled it yet. So we’ll talk more about this awesome gadget when I gear up to use it.

Isn’t mail great? Earthway Seeder arrived!

Now, to take a closer look at that heating system:

So when Matt was still here we spent a fair amount of time researching the best way to create a heating area for germinating seeds. Keith had a number of heat mats that the user would plug in and set at a certain temperature, and it was a good system because of it’s simplicity for the user and it’s ability for temperature control, but it’s an expensive one and now something I can use right now. So we searched around and Matt found some Gro-Quick soil warming cables and I found some online instructions from a farm that has been using them successfully.

Our heating bed!

These are the warming cables sticking out at the end. Despite some questionable customer reviews, they are warm to the touch, and I could feel the heat in the sand and in the bottom of the seedling containers. We’ll see how they do!

We built a wooden frame, braced the bottom with some old board fencing from the Papa Wagner scrap collection and some cinder blocks, and then attached hardware cloth and 1/4 sheet of insulation on the bottom. We ran over to a supply store for buckets of sand and then dumped 1/2 of sand over the insulation. We then took one set of the cables and laid them back and forth in the sand in an S-shape sort of pattern, and then covered the cables .

Two of these cables were the cost of one heating mat (which only holds three trays). We are stretched them over a space a bit further than suggested, but the sand seems to be helping in the transfer of heat. Of course, lots of people use all sorts of methods to start seeds. My aunt is going to give us some windows to set up some little warming spots in our old garden to see how that works.

And Teena Bailey, local farmer and grain grower extraordinaire of Red Cat Farm, uses these incredible cinder block bunkers packed with manure and bedding and covered with compost, to heat her seedlings. Teena opened her farm to me yesterday morning and showed me her area where she cleans and stores her cold produce and eggs, and her big and beautiful greenhouse that can fit a truck inside and where she has her enormous and impressive bunkers. It was great to speak with her – she’s a local legend and just the spunkiest lady farmer I’ve ever met – and it’s exciting to know that folks like these are so close at hand.

All in all, this has been a great week. Still looking for equipment (and am thus far empty-handed), and applying to markets. I re-applied through The Food Trust with a more extensive and articulate application, and I’m making strides toward finishing the momentous Greenmarket application (which is daunting but has really made me organize my field planning, which has been great). Must finish seeding onions and starting some more herbs.

And I’m thinking about a small Philly and local experimental CSA, as I may have mentioned before. I’ve already had some folks express interest, but if you’re up for an adventure in vegetables, drop me a line at liz.m.wagner@gmail.com. I’ll have more specific details and plans in the next week or so to share.

My Old Boss Keith Wrote Another Awesome Book

Image

What great timing!

I came home from Philly this morning to find some exciting mail waiting! Can’t wait to dive in.

Isn’t he the sweetest?

You can get it here or here.

Hey! We Built a Greenhouse Part II: Frames, Plastic, and Victory

Posted on February 19, 2013 by wagnere1

If you think this post was a long time coming, you should have watched our building progress.

Essentially, my only building experience up to this point was four years of week-long crash-course carpentry during my time with Project Appalachia, one of La Salle’s renowned and incredible service trips. We’ll get more into this amazing little adventure and how it essentially made me want to be a farmer later (in two weeks, when the next batch of kids is heading down to Harlan, KY).

The point here is that we needed to frame two end walls, with little to no understanding of geography, leveling (this was my fault completely – I hate using levels so I just don’t), or most of Glenn’s tools (at the outset – after some tinkering Matt became handy with all the tools at his disposal).

Building, building, building a frame.

After some discussion about what this frame should look like within the scope of the hoops, we picked a basic model a number of folks use in greenhouses. We built one wall outside and the other in Glenn’s sweet back garage, though it wasn’t until later that we realized that springing for extra-long screws instead of settling for free nails would have made a sturdier frame in probably a third of the time it took us. Ah well. Next time.

Matt may make the argument that the reason he is in all these pictures is because he did most of the work. But someone had to document (though he is also correct in much of this case)!

So we fit these frames under the hoops and attached them with metal strapping to the hoops. We then covered one wall with plastic by stapling old drip tape from last year’s irrigation over the plastic and into the wooden studs. On the front end we covered the frame with plywood and created a space for the door.

Glenn donated his graffiti-door to the cause. We hung it in place like that for a day, but don’t worry, it’s a nice happy green now.

Through all this, Strider insisted on being very involved in all our processes. Which included pretty much moving in to Matt’s bedroom with him. That dog shunned his family and spent the weeks of Greenhouse Parts I&II in a fine display of ridiculous dog enthusiasm and traitordom.

Sabotage!

No, dog, you’re not helping.

Before the walls were built, we collected some old fence boards and attached them to the sides of the greenhouse with metal strapping to create a base for the wall plastic. At some point Glenn and Matt were actually dismantling some of our house fence to do this, further evidence of our family’s unraveling.

We had to wait a few days to get a day without wind – and by this time it had snowed so it was snowy inside the greenhouse and we are still contending with that a bit – before unrolling our 6ml greenhouse wall plastic from Agriculture Solutions. We stapled the front end of the plastic to the front plywood through more drip tape, and then began to travel down the sides of the greenhouse doing the same with the baseboards.

So if we pull from here, is it tight yet? What about here? Man, plastic is the pits sometimes.

I cannot really explain how long and daunting a process this was as we desperately pulled to tighten each section, swore and got furious when it wouldn’t tighten as we’d hoped, and how many staples we pulled out and put it again before we got the hang of it.

There’s still some air movement within that plastic, and we probably could have made it tighter with a couple extra hands pulling (but where’s the fun in that?) but by God, we did it. And it’s warm inside, folks. And beautiful, and ours.

Yesterday Donna and I filled in the gaps between the baseboards on the sides and the ground with wet newspaper and sod to block the air from getting up and under the inside of the plastic. She was excited to be getting her hands dirty, and it is well worth it to bask in the heat inside that structure in the middle of February.

Other things happened during this time that I will save for next week’s blog fodder: Matt built greenhouse benches, we created a heating bed with sand and some soil heating cables, all my seed arrived, I assembled a solar cooker one night while he perfected his Wii Tennis. He’s back home in Indiana again, but still advising with seeding, manure, and all those farm things he understands a lot better than I do.

Don’t be fooled by this hardworking photo, readers. Matt still got some vacation time in, eating sushi and bowling and playing all sorts of Wii Sports and bringing the new plague of Katamari Damacy into my home.

Victory faces.

But there is a greenhouse. And about a billion other things to do. But there is a greenhouse.

Enter: Greenhouse

Hey! We Built A Greenhouse: Part I

Posted on February 11, 2013 by wagnere1

What have I done in 2013?

Well, we started the farm.

After days of decision planning, price comparing, unbelievably tedious and painful (for me, anyway) math, reading vegetable descriptions and discussing the pros and cons of various tomatoes, squash and beans, I sat down and ordered my seeds. Johnny’s, High Mowing, and Fedco are now the happy owners of substantial amounts of my bank account. Maine Potato Lady came in at the end yesterday when I bought my really exciting and colorful potato seed stock and Stuttgarter onion sets.

I filed for an EIN and my fictitious name for the farm – Wagner Farmstead is officiated. I filled out some applications to a few farmers’ markets in Philly and Greenmarket in NYC, and I’m waiting to hear from them while simultaneously applying to the state to accept Farmer’s Market Nutritional Program vouchers and to the Department of Agriculture to accept EBT.

Which leads us to the project of the past two weeks: THE GREENHOUSE.

I am atrocious at math. I think I’ve said this before (besides this article already)– maybe several times. So let me reiterate once more – having a couple men around me who can do math and are mechanically-minded has been incredibly helpful.

Glenn being awesome

Matt, all-knowing veggie farmer from Keith’s Farm, flew in from Indiana two weeks ago to assist (read: do most of) this project. Prior to his arrival, Glenn leveled the ground with his New Holland and we (read: mostly he) measured out the 36-inch ground sleeves (hollow metal rods that you sledgehammer 18 inches into the ground), making sure the screw holes were not facing out so the bolt heads would scrape the plastic walls.

Tractor!

Here is the sort-of level ground with ground sleeves

When Matt arrived he placed the hoops in the ground sleeves, keeping them as level as possible. He screwed them into place with one of Glenn’s many awesome drills (we proceeded to use a litany of Glenn’s awesome equipment, from jigsaws and miter saws to, well, his entire toolbox).

Hoops!

And yes, at the end of all this there is a greenhouse…and more! Stay tuned for the next update: We Built A Greenhouse Part II: Frames, Walls, Snow, Benches and Victory

-Farmer Liz

A Farm Flyer For Your Thoughts

Posted on February 2, 2013 by wagnere1

This is the flyer I’ve been handing out to folks with my garlic around the area. Take a look and let me know what you think! I’m thinking of doing a small CSA as well, if anyone in my world in the Lehigh Valley/Philly area is interested. Prices and planning coming up.

This list is pending, of course. Seeds are on the way so I’ll have a more concrete list soon – and like the flyer says, I’m still taking requests!

Wagner Farmstead Flyer

To give you a brief idea of what’s going on – I’m making friends with local farmers, I’m reaching out to area stores, co-ops and restaurants (but no definite takers yet), and Matt has been toiling in the cold PA winter building the greenhouse. Perhaps today or tomorrow I’ll post a step-by-step process of our adventures and mishaps.

And now, back out to the cold – today we’re painting and putting up more plastic!

Home Is Wherever I’m With You, Part Two: My Mom the Superhero, Greenhouses, and Getting it Together

Posted on January 19, 2013 by wagnere1

This post should have been written two weeks ago, but here we are. 2013 has been quite something,

For reasons that are strange, somewhat unknown and exhausting to rehash, our family spent the first week of the new year hanging out with Mom Wagner in the hospital. She’s fine now, and thanks everyone for the food, thoughts, beer, visits and everything else.

A shout out to my cousins Chris and Bernie, who brought flowers to the hospital. These are beautiful. And to Melissa, who showed up with bread, soup and muffins.

While we were hanging out in the ICU, mom woke up one morning and promptly sassed me about not figuring out my greenhouse plans.

Long story short, Donna Wagner, exhausted and, uh, did I mention pretty sick?, insisted I get my ass in gear. Because in case you didn’t know, she’s a superhero. And now that she wants to farm, we’re in this for serious.

That was the real kick I needed to get my act together. I made a couple phone calls to some farm friends. One helped me get in touch with folks about grant questions. Matt started researching greenhouse prices and calling companies for quotes. And that was how we met H. Schwartz and Sons, the folks I visited with Glenn on Friday to pick up my greenhouse.

Yes. Yes, yes. After all the false starts, big ideas with no direction and easy ways out, the greenhouse pieces are here. There’s no turning back now.

On Friday morning Glenn and I packed up at 5:30am and headed down to Wilmington, Delaware, where H. Schwartz and Sons has a giant warehouse/garage surrounded by piles of steel pipe. That’s his primary business, but he gets bundles of seconds steel for projects that have been bent or can’t be used for some reason, and since he’s bending it to make greenhouse and tunnel hoops anyway, can utilize this rejected material and make affordable, sturdy greenhouses from galvanized steel. His frames perform well in snow, which is very important up in these parts.

Some of us felt some trepidation as glenn and set out on our greenhouse drive. We don’t always do so well together. But it was actually a lovely trip. We may (knock on wood) finally be starting to understand each other.

Next weekend we start assembly. We may just put up 45 feet of the 96 foot frame and use the other half for a high tunnel, or get so excited we build the whole thing. That remains to be seen.

Loading up!

This will become a 96-foot greenhouse. In the words of one of my farmers, booyah.

These pieces will connect the hoops with the center purlin.

The ground cover for the floor arrived first on Thursday, puzzling the UPS man as he handed me half a dozen packages for my mother and a 15 ft., heavy roll of the stuff from the back of his truck. The plastic for the roof and sides has yet to arrive, and then my co-builder and I must price out some lumber for the base and doors. We’ll need some other pieces as well – once we are in the building phase I’ll try to document the steps and tools as specifically as possible, because other than YouTube videos, there aren’t a whole lot of detailed assembly instructions with photos floating around out there.

We also had a nice visit from my dear Tomato Boys Matthew and Derek as they set off on their winter cross country adventure. We caught up doing what they love best – eating pizza. They’ve made it to Memphis and last I heard they were bouncing around New Orleans somewhere. Derek is taking notes – maybe one day if I get it together I’ll be able to replicate some of their trip on my own. They may be staying at some farms along the way, so maybe they can’t report back on their arrival in San Diego.

This doofus drove hours out of his way to get some upside down pizza. Derek, who despite many appearances on my blog, hates having his picture taken and is loafing in the back.

In other news, I continue to wander the Lehigh Valley and Philadelphia area looking for places to sell garlic and market my future produce. Over a dozen small natural food shops, restaurants and other similar venues have seen my nervous face and heard my bumbling, awkward spiel as I thrust some garlic bulbs on them and scamper out, but we’ve yet to see any returns. Keep your fingers crossed!

One of the owners of Food for All, however, seemed particularly excited (Nate Adams suggested this little number for lunch so I could talk to them about my garlic. Thanks, dude.). The store/café receives a lot of its food from a Lancaster-based co-op, but Food for All seemed interested in an additional food source. She asked if I would have my produce listed online to order – which is something I had not thought of, but is something that Matt seems to think is a good idea and is something his computer/farming brain can create. So that may be the avenue here. More to come with further investigation.

My first issue of Growing for Market came last week along with a hard copy of High Mowing’s seed catalog and a new Johnny’s catalog. I spent the better part of a day reading all the descriptions of the Maine Potato Lady’s seed stock and picking out my favorites. After some discussion, Donna and I came to the conclusion that since PA is a potato state, we should pick potatoes folks wouldn’t normally see, and will be choosing some organic stock that were bred for their antioxidant and vitamin content. Plus, they are beautiful colors. And I’m going to try some sweet potatoes, which have a growing process that isn’t quite the same as a regular potato, so it should be an adventure.

I mailed in my registration of a fictitious name and EIN application to the state and federal offices. I have to look into buying liability insurance if I’m going to sell produce at a market. And I need about two thousand more pieces of equipment and materials, from plows and discs to potting soil and trays, before I’m ready to roll. But we’re getting there. Inch by inch, we’re getting there.

Not the most organized planner…

And I’ve had nothing but support from my friends and family. One is helping me knock around branding and marketing ideas. One makes sure I’m trying to using my newly-created farm Twitter account to my advantage. Others make sure I’m not falling off my game. And some may not even realize how they help – I’ve got a friend traveling through Southeast Asia, another living in Japan, one becoming a father, one writing about music in a way that never stops making me laugh, and one picking up writing again, and reading their blogs motivates me on my own adventure and encourages me to be a more diligent writer. And Nate has let me start writing for Patch again, so I’m getting back into the swing of what I loved most for such a long time; sitting down at a computer, making some phone calls, and starting to write.

Add soil and stir. The Farmer Liz gets back in the saddle.

Hey – this is my 3 and 1/2 acres from the sky!

Home is Wherever I’m With You, Part I: Coming Back

Posted on December 30, 2012 by wagnere1

12/30/12, 7:30am (Most of this was written in real time as I wandered through Philly yesterday)

I am sitting in Chapterhouse, a coffee shop in South Philadelphia, drinking a Dominican Mocha and eating pizzelles from Sarcone’s Bakery, and my brain is have this strange, double life, mashed up meeting of worlds hemorrhage.

I finally got to see The Silver Linings Playbook last night, which is a move that is particularly dear to me because the author of the book, Matt Quick, was a Collegian editor, writing man from La Salle whom I’ve met with his writer wife before. I wrote a book review of Sorta Like a Rock Star, his kick ass young adult book that came out a couple years back. This couple gives me hope and brings me home to the a place that was so defining to me as an adult, and seeing the Philly skyline on the movie screen may mean nothing to everyone else, but it got me, right down in the pit of my little college girl, writer, big dreamer heart.

So I got up at six this morning, dressed in the dark, and drove down. As I rounded the bend on 76 and the skyline came into view, even on a gray, unassuming morning like today, something in my brain stilled. Some part of me that was and is always moving in high gear just…calmed down. It was weird, but it was most welcome.

I searched for free parking down off Washington and began my trek through my old lands. I haven’t been here for some time, and I guess overall I did spend a lot of time in New York City over the past eight months. But Philly is the one that feels like my city.

But I know I have been gone. I went searching for Benna’s coffee shop – the dream of one of their Open Fire steamers hasn’t left me since last May – but the storefront appears to be a young, hip website design company now (unless I got lost and went to the wrong intersection, which is highly possible. Even when I lived here I was always losing track of Benna’s). I walked through the Italian market, mouthwatering at all the cheap produce the vendors were setting up, and laughing at the burning trash cans they always set up in winter. Derek loved the thought of a farmer’s market full of smoky burn barrels. I hope he has the chance to come see them and get a good laugh.

But I feel like I have one foot in the city and one still stretched out across the state lines at Keith’s farm. I ripped open the bag of pizzelles before the door to Sarcone’s closed behind me, and as soon as the mild taste of anise hit my tongue a dozen memories flashed into my brain. Hanging out in the herb beds up in the 09 field in my first couple weeks, planting anise, the smell and taste of its purple flowers.

This has been happening constantly. And most of the time, it’s okay. I keep walking past stores in the Italian market with garlic in my bag and a half sheet about Keith’s farm and the garlic and my forthcoming farm, but I keep panicking and walking past. I am sitting in my old coffee shops but instead of working on papers or trying to write mediocre fiction or working on something for Child Advocates, I’m researching tax-exempt status forms and IRS paperwork for new farms. I haven’t adjusted to not seeing my farmers constantly and continue to have some pathetic minor dialogue with them in my head when I make a joke no one gets or the like.

And then Sara walks in.

—

Sara has known me for longer than almost anyone at this point in my life. We met at the PA Governor’s School for the Arts, RIP, the summer before my senior year of high school. I was a scared little fiction writer who from the country who had never left town, and she was the Philly artist since the day she was born. She has been with me and supported me through the toughest, most defining moments of my life, and she is the person who sees my best self. Because that is who she is. She lights up the room, or the coffee shop, or the subway station, and then she lights you up, and you want to be that smiley, playful, loving person she draws out of you. She was the first person to show me this – back when I was 17 and awash with kid emotions – and she does it now, still. I can tell her anything and she can assess and process me and my next tentative moves about men, about my family, about my farm and about myself, in a way that is as efficient as a seasoned therapist with as much love as anyone who has ever loved me – which is why she is and has always been my wife.

She is an incredibly grounding, beautiful person. When I am lonely or upset or ecstatic and in love with my life, I just want to talk to her. So that is what I did. And things that have been so very hazy for me in my personal world for the past few months have sharpened in clarity. The one foot stuck in Keith’s farm is slowly rising to join the rest of me back here, in this new era of my life.

Sara is also an artist in the whole sense of the word. I am writing this portion of this post lying in her bed (I loiter here a lot. Her family tolerates me, to the point that they all asked about the farm when I walked in, and I love them for it), which has an instant, calming effect on me. Her walls are painted with sunflowers and trees and poetry, every nook holds a plant or a candle or an old air conditioner or a guitar or a clay sculpture. And we have this thing about her shoes. When I start new chapters of my life, Sara retires a pair of her worn, paint-covered Converse and bestows them upon me, sometimes filled with hand-sewn dolls and teddy bears, or, as in the case this holiday season, with a pot of basil to plant in them. This is a weird, quirky thing that we do as strange, silly women, but it is impossible to articulate what this means to me since the last pair six years ago. This is the ending of so much, and a shiny new start on even more. And she has almost more excited for Wagner Farmstead than I have since its outset, and that feels good.

—

I leave Sara’s and catch a ride around the block with Jess, who drove in for lunch, aka bottomless mimosas.

This Jess is a gal I met about a year and a half ago, right as I was starting adulthood in Philly, whose presence and attitude also helped change the course of my future. I was just starting to work at Child Advocates and looking for some new scenes when I signed up to run with Back on My Feet (and if you read back to the very beginning of this blog, you will see how this program made me who I am), and Jess and Sarah and Scott and Erin and Caitlin and all the runner guys I met helped me become this confident, loving person I had forgotten about during a college. And running with these guys gave me the strength to take the plunge on this whole adventure in the first place.

Scott and Sarah, my other lovely farmer/runner friends who grew up near the farm.

Jess is hilarious and sweet and interesting and interested and practical, and a million other great things. It was great to see her and catch up.

—

And then I arrived at the home of my old, dear friend Nate Adams. We watched some West Wing, grabbed some dinner and then headed off to see The Hold Steady, who may once again be my favorite band of life. If you like rock music, and guitars, and positive jams and narrative stories about druggie kids in the Midwest, you would and will love The Hold Steady. Watch this, and this, and this, and then you will understand. Craig Finn is the happiest frontman in rock music, and this kick ass rock has been a part of my history and growth for six years now. The show was awesome, and it was great to share it with someone who has always been on the ground floor of my life and has supported me and this insane endeavor from the start.

Do you need a best man? Rock star? Great friend? Secret agent? Constant chore? Here he is.

To come back to this city and see this band and spend time with such excellent and admirable people was the perfect real beginning to my time back in Pennsylvania. And tomorrow, in Philly Part II: The New Year’s Sequel, it will continue again with Olivia Biagi, my college love of my life and the girl who wrote an article for the La Salle alumni magazine about my farm adventures.

And here is that hilarious nugget, for those without Facebook.

In the new year I know I will have to knuckle down and start my planning. These things aren’t just going to fall into place. But for these few brief days, just to rehash the Keith’s farm experience with the people who matter and dream big dreams with the people who care about the adventure is all that I could ask for.

-Farmer Liz

Needed a farm picture in here somewhere. Cutting watercress at runner Sarah’s childhood home.

On Moving Home, Christmas Garlic and Real Person Life

Posted on December 27, 2012 by wagnere1

On Sunday I finished packing my car, stuffed any remaining crevices with raw milk from Freedom Hill Dairy for the last time and garlic cloves from Keith (yep, I even filled my boots with them), had a brief cry with Flavia, hugged Keith, Matt and Kobe goodbye, and moved home.

I realized on Christmas Eve, one day later, that I would not be able to settle down. Also I needed a repair foundation service because the foundation was in a really bad shape.

On Christmas day, I coerced Glenn into helping me oil his rototiller, and with the help of my cousins Greg and Allen, we tilled two 40-foot beds in the lot next to my house. That night after the rest of my family left, I went out with my headlamp, my mom’s soil knife, a yardstick and a boot full of garlic, and planted 200 cloves in the first bed.

Late night garlic party!

Yeah, it’s dark. That doesn’t stop us!

It is apparent that Mom Wagner is already concerned about my mental stability.

But with all this garlic sitting around, knowing some if it is in the ground was a huge relief. And the next morning, when everyone in the Wagner house woke up before 5am like a pack of freaks, Jess and Mom decided to join team Farmstead. We suited up, Jess in her second rate running gear and mom in her new muck boots, and went out to the farm where my uncle Butch has been piling pheasant manure for the field. We loaded up buckets and tubs in the back of Glenn’s truck, hauled them back and mom and I worked through the then frozen second bed to plant another 200 cloves and spread manure over both beds. So, 404 cloves in two days. A pretty nice haul for the Wagner women in the midst of the holidays.

The Wagner women working hard.

Mom Wags and our trusty sidekick getting our garlic maintenance on.

Christmas itself was a blast. All my aunts and uncles and cousins come to our house for a day of awesome, and everyone was excited that both Wagner daughters were home and in fighting fit. All of them offered me a couch or a room when I need a break from living at home, to which I am very, very grateful. The family got garlic and veggies and dried herbs, Mom Wagner got Carhartt hats and a Leatherman work knife, and Glenn literally got a mountain of meat from some of my favorite vendor neighbors, like a duck from Ben at Garden of Spices Poultry Farm, skate and tuna steaks from Blue Moon and Amanda and Mike’s incredible meat from Tamarack Hollow in Burlington, Vermont. Farmer Christmas was a huge success.

Christmas braising mix – it warms my heart to hear my family say they like kale.

Meat mountain! And yes, Glenn cut a Keith’s Farm-style Christmas tree, so I cleaned it up and gave it a home.

But now there are inches of snow between me and any more progress, and some of my friends are already concerned that I will snap without a task to do. But little do they know, there is always something to be done.

Now that I am confined to a house, I have been 1) forced to unpack (much to my mom’s enjoyment), 2) obligated to set up a bedroom workspace (which used to be reserved for bad fiction writing of the young adult fantasy persuasion, and then just fiction for pseudo-adults, and now farm plans and field maps), 3) coerced into blogging and listening to the last Pandora quickmix that Matthew left up on my computer before he left (not that I don’t want to blog, just that sleeping forever is so much more appealing in this icy wasteland of Pennsylvania – and the Mountain Goats just came up on this playlist, Matthew so good job), 5) moseying down to the Health Habits, the health food and supplement store where I’ll be putting in some hours to stay busy, and 6) perusing seed catalogs and using some of my sweet, sweet Christmas money to buy seeds.

So, as you can see, there is plenty to do. I just have to get it together and do it. Which can be easier said than done when you are a person who hibernates through the winter months.

But my family is excited, and it’s contagious. Everyone has some anxiety about Glenn and I functioning under the same roof, but on Christmas morning we showed each other that we might survive this. I was out running on the treadmill, he came in and got on his elliptical machine, and we ran side by side for half an hour watching Fiddler on the Roof (which, if you know anything about the musical, is one that Nate Adams refers to as “Daughters Will Kill You: The Movie”). So, you know, that’s something.

It is weird to wake up in my kid bedroom now. I’m having trouble adjusting to being around clean, non-farmer people who believe in taking showers daily and washing their dishes thoroughly. And though I had no idea this would happen so soon, I miss my Tomato Boys. I miss Keith and Flavia. And I’ll never be able to thank them for all they’ve showed me and done for me in the past eight months.

But I have a lot of catching up to do in my home state, and a lot of new adventures to begin. I can’t wait.

Christmas Farmer Liz – Yeah, maybe I wore this for the last week and a half on the farm. But with a Santa sweater like that, wouldn’t you? And sure, I look like a hot mess. But so would you if you worked three markets and were an emotional wreck right before the holidays. Womp womp womp.

-Farmer Liz

We Say Goodbye, We Say Hello

Posted on December 17, 2012 by wagnere1

One week left.

I am notorious for being an overly emotional human at all times. Especially unnecessary ones. I couldn’t tell you what side of the family I got this from, since they all think I’m crazy when I start crying during a Disney movie.

But here we are. And the last few weeks here haven’t been anything different. It’s like the end of a semester, but with more relief than a week after finals, more finality than graduation and more trepidation than I’ve felt before in my life. I am so excited for the next part of this journey, but I am so scared and sad as well.

Living with these folks for the past few months has taught me an incredible number of things about people.It’s been like a college dorm experience, living in my North Philly house with my old college roommates, and yet an entirely different beast altogether. Living together and working together was an incredible balancing act – one we all struggled with. And after Chelsea left, living with men became a completely new experience. I have learned so much about farming here, but I’ve learned a lot about trust, and the human emotional spectrum, and what it really does and doesn’t mean to be a man here, too.

It’s the night before I drive into the city for market for the first time –in Keith’s pickup with Derek, though, not the stick shift. So I’m sitting in the living room watching Mulan for some moral support. I guess you could say my time here was like that song everyone remembers from this movie – you know, “I’ll make a man out of you.”

This place and these boys (and girl) have toughened me up. I think I can hold my own with these men farmers – at market, on the farm, and at home. Maybe not in the kitchen. But you can’t win them all. Though despite what my cohorts may tell you, I can cook a decent meal without twigs now.

Coming here was a big leap of faith for me, as so much of these past eight months have been. And so onto the next one – Wagner Farmstead, ahoy. I thank Keith for taking this chance with me, and for the people who have come into my life during this adventure and those who have supported me all the way through. I went home to help my mom put up our Christmas tree on Saturday, and, as we do every year, we watched It’s a Wonderful Life. Which, of course, means we sat on opposite ends of the couch and cried for for the last ten minutes of the movie, but here we are. But that movie reminded me of something very important that I tend to forget from time to time:

“Dear George,
Remember, no man is a failure who has friends.”

I’m sure there will be more on this to come. But these guys – my brothers, my mentors, my tormentors, the source of my exasperation and exhaustion, my friends – I will never be able to thank them for all that they have done for me and helped me grow up to be.

You must be swift as a coursing river
With all the force of a great typhoon
With all the strength of a raging fire
Mysterious as the dark side of the moon

I am a woman. Hear me roar.

-Farmer Liz

Farmer Liz

An organic journey in the Lehigh Valley

Category Archives: Uncategorized

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Hey! We Built A Greenhouse: Part I

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Home Is Wherever I’m With You, Part Two: My Mom the Superhero, Greenhouses, and Getting it Together

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On Moving Home, Christmas Garlic and Real Person Life

We Say Goodbye, We Say Hello