On Vacation

This post is not about farming, other than to say what a wonderful farm-sitter we have (thank you Desiree!). This post is about where we went on vacation - Bead Lake, WA.

In 1980, when I was 4 years old, Mt. St. Helens erupted and sent a cloud of ash around the world. We were living in Spokane at the time and all I remember of that awesome event was in the middle of the afternoon the ash rained down and it became dark as night. For the next few days no one could go outside without a special mask to prevent ash from getting into your lungs. Imagine my poor parents with a 4 year old and 1 year old stuck in a suburban house, with no cable! When the ash finally cleared and we were allowed back outside, my parents decided we wouldn't stop at the front yard. Instead they grabbed a map and chose a location about 1 hour north of Spokane - Bead Lake.

There are at least a hundred lakes within a couple hours drive of Spokane, so I'm not sure how they decided on Bead Lake, other than it is pretty remote for being so close to a largish city. I don't remember anything from that particular trip, but the lake made an impression on my parents and, being that there wasn't any property on the lake for sale, they decided to purchase 10 acres and a small, rustic cabin just north of the lake. This became known as the "hunting cabin," because my dad hunted white tail deer from that base camp for the next dozen years. (Picture of the "hunting cabin", 20 years after it was sold to another family. It's now in significant disrepair.) From the hunting cabin we had ready access to Bead Lake.

A quick story about the hunting cabin, before I launch into the lake. My first independent outdoor adventure happened at the hunting cabin. One afternoon I headed out on my own, as I did frequently because I've never had much fear of anything. I must have been about 8 at the time. I crossed the marsh on our property and began to move through the brush and trees. After a few minutes I looked around and had no idea which way I came from or how to get out. I heard my Dad's advice in the back of my mind, "If you get lost, stay put. It's hard to find you if you are moving." So I chose a nice looking tree and sat down. Not much after I heard my Dad calling for me and followed his voice out. I still never pass up an opportunity to bush-whack my own trail.

Ok, back to Bead Lake. It is amazing. It's a glacier-formed lake with very steep, nearly unbuildable slopes around 80% of the shore. The edge where the glacier receded and dropped lots of rocky sediment is the edge with cabins (as seen the in picture, cabins along the right). The steep slope, and the fact that it's National Forest, means that the lake will never be over-built and most of the land will remain wild. Wild, as in deer, elk, cougar, bear, turkey and the return of wolves, yes wolves! The lack of cabins and septic systems also means the water in the lake is very clean, drinkable, although my mom won't and would never let us kids drink it. The water is also clear - on a bad day you can see down about 15 feet; on a good day at least 30 ft. Add to that amazing fishing for Kokanee (landlocked salmon), Lingcod (landlocked cod) and Mackinaw, and this lake is a destination for all kinds of outdoors people.

When I was 4 to 9 years old, the weekend ritual was to hitch up the boat, drive up the hunting cabin on Friday night, stopping at the spring for water (no running water or electricity at the hunting cabin) and make dinner on a camp stove. The next morning we would get up early and head to Crystal Shores, Bead Lake's then boat launch, convenience store and campsite. We would try to get there before the crowds so that we could jet across to the beach - actually just a flat spot with small, well weather rocks - and set up before anyone else could get to that one non-steep location. We nearly always won the race and so we dubbed it "Correll Beach". My memories of days on the beach are as thick as the mosquitoes got in the evening. Learning to skip rocks (a skill I'm still trying to master), trying to catch fish in a plastic bucket, finding crawdads under sunken logs.

Then there was the day I got heat exhaustion. Needless to say, it was a hot day and the beach as south facing, getting a full day of sunshine. I was busy being a kid and refusing to stop to lotion-up or eat or drink. In the afternoon it hit hard, like a flu bug. I was burning up. My parents took the canvas top off the boat and made an umbrella of sorts for me to lay under. The only liquid we had left, other than the lake, was pineapple juice. I downed nearly a gallon (or so it seemed). By the time we got back to the hunting cabin and cool of the forest, I was well again.

Another significant memory was learning to water ski. My dad took two kids skies and screwed them together with wood so it was like skiing on one wide plank. I learned by floating in the water just off Correll Beach, holding the rope and my mom holding me by the back of my life jacket. Dad would slowly speed up until my mom let go and I stood up. I think I was 8 years old, but that's fuzzier in my memory than the feeling of the first time I got up and went around the lake.

For years my parents watched for cabins to be put up for sale around the lake. Not much was available. Many people keep cabins in the family. There are names, like Mead and Andrews, that go back more than 50 years. Finally, when I was 9 years old, the lake cabin, as it would come to be called, came up for sale. It was old and the stairs and deck were falling apart. The whole thing was leaning slightly. But it had a lot of waterfront and the price was good. My parents made their move. (Picture is of the lake cabin today, many repairs and a new second/lower floor later.)

When I was about 12 or 13, the operator of Crystal Shores, Pete, died of a heart attack. I had known Pete my whole life, it seemed. He ran the little convenience store with candy that my brother and I would purchase - usually year-old gummy worms. Loosing Petet put an end to Crystal Shores, which was divided and sold to three families, who all built huge cabins. These were the first really big, really nice, new cabins on the lake. This event marked a change. Since then property values have gone up steadily, so have taxes. One by one, the older smaller cabins are being tore down and new, mammoth cabins built.

Today there is a little public boat launch, run by the forest service, at the far east end of the lake. The launch has no dock and is only used by fishermen or kayakers. Correll Beach is still there, but we seldom see anyone at it. The people we bought the lake cabin from, now own the one next door to us. (We sold the hunting cabin 20 years ago.) There is a trail and two campsite that people frequently hike to. But the lake remains the same beautiful, clean, wild place it ever was. My parents are able to visit it often, but Jeremy, Jordan and I only get there once a year for a week long vacation. Still every time I smell the air the feeling of childhood comes over me and I smile. And now Jordan is getting to experience all the same places and activities I did - literally retracing my footsteps, hopefully not the heat exhaustion step though.

Arbor

This year's garden improvements have been focussed on preventing competition. We chose the some of the larger competitors - moles/voles, birds and deer. That is about 0.5% of the total competition for the garden harvests. But we figure slow and steady will win the race for food. Right?

I already posted about our creative use of leftover PVC to create the strawberry cover. Within about 2 hours a robin was caught inside the net. I had to open one end and then spook it to the opening. Thankfully no other birds have been able to penetrate the net. As a result we have harvested about 2/3 of the crop. Slugs, ants and mold have taken the remaining 1/3. I'm open to suggestions on those three - non-chemical suggestions. (Note - our slugs seem to be too smart for the beer trick.)

We have an interim measure in place for the moles/voles. I found these nifty little ground inserts that emit a noise that repels, in theory the rodents. Every 15 seconds or so a loud buzzing sound is produced. The box claims the sound travels up to 90 feet. I put one at every corner of the garden in an attempt to create a solid barrier. So far only a few moles holes have turned up in the garden. Maybe we have some really speedy moles that pass the barrier during the 14 seconds of silence and then get trapped inside? It's hard to tell about the voles since they don't great mounds. Once the potatoes, carrots and beets start forming, it will be obvious. Last year voles ate all the golden beets.

The second step on the moles/voles will be to create a 2-foot-deep trench around the garden and add chicken wire underground. Let's see 'em get through that! But it will have to wait until next summer after we add the last garden extension (which will be occupied by another row of strawberries).

The last defensive maneuver of this season was to build and arbor of sorts over the blueberries and raspberries. Jeremy and my dad built 6, 10-foot wooden T's. They dug down 3 feet, placed the T's in and pounded dirt down around. Then my mom and I moved the netting off the strawberries (they only have a few berries left to ripen) and onto the T's. Two things I learned during this process. One, netting really messes with your depth of field. Two, even humans can get stuck in netting. Twice I got good and caught up. My mom had to help extract me. Now I know how that robin felt.

Strawberry Improvements

It started a few years back, when my Mom brought strawberry starts from her house in Spokane, WA to our farm. We made a small patch in the upper corner of the garden and planted the berries. For the past four years the garden has grown by about 5ft each year and the strawberries have expended to fill much of that space. However, we didn't keep them in rows and the result was that last summer we couldn't reach more than half of the berries. Those that didn't mold were eaten by the birds. Time to create some rows.

The first two were immediately adjacent to the original patch. For the final two rows we would have to expand the garden one last time. We used the "lasagna gardening" technique (there is a past with the same name if you want to learn more) because there is no need to kill or till under the grass, you just work on top. It was relatively easy and created a beautiful rich, fluffy soil ready to be planted. As of this spring, we have 4 rows of strawberries each roughly 50 feet long. And I can walk between the rows to harvest. If I can get out there before the birds eat everything.

The other not-well-thought-out thing we did was to place netting over the original patch. I know that sounds like exactly what you should do but the problem was that we stakes which stood about 2 feet above the ground. The result was that the plants would grow through the netting. And it was a pain to try and move back to harvest underneath. My Mom saw in a magaz

ine, or maybe in the newspaper I forget, a way to use PVC piping to create nice arches to set the netting over. Luckily the previous owners of our farm had assembled a haphazard irrigation system along the driveway that we have never used. But the PVC has stayed in place, above ground hidden by grass and rose bushes that never actually need to be watered.

My Dad volunteered to cut the piping and dig the holes. He found some large piping in the barn that the smaller irrigation pipes could slide into and starting hacking. Then he got to dig 18 deep holes. After the first row he said "I forgot how hard it is to dig holes." When he was in high school he took a summer job on a ranch running fence. He thought it would be a great adventure riding horse, sleep out in a tent, mending fences. In reality is was hot, dusty work that consisted primarily of digging holes to set fence posts. Of course when he got back to school in the fall he told all his friends that he got to "be a cowboy" for the summer.

My Mom and my job was to put the larger pipes in the wholes and fill

around with dirt. We used a 2x4 to thump the dirt down and make sure each would provide a secure anchor for the arch. Then we set the arches. Lastly we spread the netting over. My Mom said "You know. If you got down on your hands and knees you could crawl through to pick berries and never have to pull the netting back." I had a better idea "You could lay on one of those auto mechanic's carts and just roll through." Both ideas made for a really nice visual. In reality I think we'll just lift up the netting.

At the end of the day, looking down from the back deck while BBQing hamburgers, it garden was starting to look like we actually know what we are doing.

A Little Success

I'm holed-up with the flu. I came down with it yesterday at work. The day started OK, but my throat was scratchy and annoying. I should have known something was wrong, but I ignored it and kept working. On the walk from my office to car to go home the fever hit, followed by shakes that made driving in rush-hour traffic a bit nerve wracking. By the time I got Jordan from after-school-care the aches had set in. Once we got home, I changed into my most comfortable jammies and I laid on the couch all evening letting Jeremy and Jordan take care of me.

This morning I was better, but not by much. So I called in sick to work, slowly gathered a blanket, tea and the book I'm reading and settled back into the couch. I napped most of the day. Then around 3:30pm there was a knock on the door. My parents had come over to check on the bees. Last Sunday, on Mother's Day, they had said they were going to come to check on the bees, but my flu-stupor made me forget. They, in turn, were not expecting me to be home and were surprised to see my Pacifica in the driveway. After learning I was sick, Mom decided not to come into the house - smart, the air was probably thick with flu bugs. Dad ventured in but only long enough to make some sugar water and I think he held is breath. Since the sun had come out, I decided I could use some fresh air and headed down to the hive with them.

The first step to checking on the bees, is to get all the equipment out and ready. It took some serious effort to get the smoker started because the newspaper and kindling that we keep in the barn were damp-ish due to the persistent, misty rain that only cleared today. I sat on the old railroad beams, covered in moss because my legs felt weak and was of no help at all. Finally the fire took and we walked over to the hive.

Dad pumped a little smoke in through the entrance and then propped up one edge of the top and pumped in a bit more. Then he removed the top and took out the frame feeder. We have been keeping the frame feeder full of sugar water since bringing the bees home. In a normal year, we probably could have stopped supplementing their food by now, but it has been so cold and rainy that all the flowers, and our orchard, are at least one month behind. We have also put a pollen cake in the hive every other week. There was no sign of the last pollen cake and the frame feeder was nearly empty. As Dad filled it I peaked in between the frames. The bees had drawn out comb on all by the most-outer-edge frames.

For those who are not bee keepers -- The frames are a sheet of grooved plastic in a wooden frame. The bees build comb off the plastic; this is called "drawing out" comb. In the middle most drawn out frames, the queen starts to lay eggs. In the outer most drawn out frames, the bees make honey. We decided to pull one of the frames to see how it looks. Honey! They are already making honey! I can almost taste it!

Since all looked great we put the frame and full frame feeder back in. Mom laid a new pollen cake on the top of the frames and we shut up the hive.

So if not for the flu, I would have been at work and missed the hive opening.

Pigs Like Carrots

You may think, well duh! Don't pigs like everything?! They are walking garbage disposals, aren't they? Actually, the first couple of pigs we raised not only weren't big fans of carrots, they actually hated the carrots enough to leave the peelings behind in the slop trough.

Those first two pigs were named Porky and Sammy. They were great animals. Friendly and funny and energetic. Porky and Sammy loved pastries and melon rinds. My mom would save melon rinds in the freezers all week long to have treats to bring the pigs on Sunday. I would visit the "day old" bread shelf at the store and bring home cinnamon raisin bagels ($1 per 1/2 doz). Porky and Sammy would get down right giddy at the sight of me or my mom coming toward the pole barn.

Our new pigs are named ... Porky and Sammy 2. Very original, I know. We decided that Porky 2 is the boy because he is bigger. He is also brave and friendly. Sammy is a girl, smaller and pretty leery of us still. I'm hoping she'll come around. They are only 3 months old, so we aren't slopping them yet. We probably could, but I'm worried the rich foods would make their tummies upset. But Jordan wanted to start feeding them stuff other than the pig feed. I suggested she bring down a few baby carrots to try.

Porky 2 and Sammy 2 don't know their stall and run that well yet. They are smart though. The feed system is a metal container that they have to lift with a nose to get at the food. They had that figured out in about 5 minutes. They also found the water fountain. But the trough, thus far, has just been something to climb on. When Jordan put a few baby carrots in it they didn't react much. Then Porky, being braver, came over to check things out. One bite and he knew - this is a good, good thing! The snorting began and the baby carrots disappeared quickly. Sammy was slow to catch on and only managed to get a few carrots before they were all gone.

The next night when we came down, they ran over to the trough - smart little piggies. Jordan put in more carrots. Those were gone in seconds. (I must note that pigs wag their tails when happy and those tails were a-waggin'). Tonight I had left over pineapple upside-down cake from last weekend's in-law Easter party. I have no idea if pigs can eat pineapple. I know that tomatoes make them sick, so maybe pineapple, being very acidic, may not be OK. I tossed the pineapples to the chickens (who really are garbage disposals) and gave the remaining cake to the pigs. The reaction was priceless.

Both got completely in the trough to get a better angle on the cake. Snort, snort, snort - tails going crazy. As the cake disappeared, Porky 2 started to throw his weight around and push Sammy 2 out of the way. In less than 5 minutes the leftover cake was gone. They actually licked the trough. Too cute.

The video below is not of the cake-eating (I wish I had taped it, but didn't think to bring the camera down.) In the video my dad is off camera whistling at the pigs. Porky 2 is keenly interested in the whistling.

A Bee Story

This might take a little while to tell, so I'll give away the ending right now... We got new honey bees and successfully moved them in to their home! Ok, now the long version -

Last year, in April, we got a box-o-bees. It was a cold, rainy day when we put them in the hive and it didn't get warm for many days after that. Not knowing much about raising bees in the Pacific Northwest, we had purchased a top feeder. It's a tray that fits over the top of the hive; you fill it with sugar water. But it was so cold that the bees never came up the top to feed. They all died.

We purchased a second round of bees. This time we went with a nuc. A nuc is a small, 5 frame, hive that you put simply into the big hive. It was much easier. Also, it was one month later and warm. The bees did great all summer long. They brought the comb out, filled cells with honey and raised lots of little bees. Then in the fall, the weather got cold and rainy. One day we came down to check on the bees and they were all dead. They hadn't left the hive. There was no sign of disease, mites, fungus - nothing. Just thousands of dead bees. It sucked! Sad and discouraged we put the hive and equipment went in the barn for the winter.

So here we are one April later and ready to make another attempt at raising honey bees. The first decision was to change hive's location. Jeremy and my Dad chose a spot near the barn and across the creek that gets direct sun from about noon until 3pm, the rest of the time there is dappled shade. The second decision was to use the frame feeder. Basically, it's a hollow, narrow plastic rectangle that sits down in the hive. The bees therefore don't have to come up the the top to eat. Third, my Dad decided to use a solid base, instead of a screen base, for the hive. This would mean the bees could work less hard to warm the hive.

The bees were set to arrive a week ago - the first weekend of April. However, the unseasonably cold weather in northern California made it impossible for the bees to be brought up. Then this week has been Jordan's spring break and she and headed to the cabin. Ruhl (the honey bee supply store) called to say that the bees would arrive on Thursday and must be picked up by Friday afternoon. Meaning me and my Mom would have to take care of the bees alone.

I got a little panic-y. It's not that I'm that afraid of bees - although being afraid of bees is the most common fear besides public speaking and spiders. But the process of putting them in the hive last year was a little nerve wracking. Bottom line, you have to shake the bees from the box into the hive. And I'm talking about 10,000 bees. Shaking the crap out of thousands of bees it's my idea of a good time. So, I started making inquiries about getting some help. I contacted the Clark County Beekeepers Association and Urban Growth Bounty, from whom we took a class about honey bees. My request was - Could someone please come help me! Desperate I know, but I was desperate. I got speedy and multiple responses. The association sent me some videos and advice. The links to the videos are below. The advice was to calm down. Literally. Everyone who got back to me said that this was simple and I could do it. I did get a few potential takers to come help. But my pride kicked in and I decided that me and my Mom could totally handle this!

Mom and I made the drive to Ruhl in Gladstone, OR on Friday. It was a glorious morning - sunny and warm (well, warm for April in the Pacific Northwest). We picked up our bees. Truly amazing that ten thousand bees can fit in a 18" by 10" by 4" box. After arriving home and having some lunch, we headed down the hive and got to work!

First we got everything out and put on the regalia. Some sexy outfits for sure! Then we read, re-read and re-read the instructions Ruhl sent with the box. In watching the videos, we learned that shaking the bees out is not necessary. Whew! So ... 1) remove five frames. 2) fill the feeder and put in the place of one of the frames. 3) remove the can of sugar water from the box-o-bees and quickly pull the queen out and put the can back in. 4) secure the queen to a frame, using a rubber band (genius). 5) put the queen/frame back in the hive. 6) remove the can of sugar water and put the whole box in the hive. 7) close it all up. No problem! We didn't even get stung.

All done now. The bees were out flying today, making big circles checking out the territory. Crossed fingers that they will survive and make it through the summer, fall and winter. Next spring, with any luck, the hive will be thriving and

we'll have some extra honey to partake in.

The videos about getting bees installed and feeding them:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVaYD3e9KOA&NR=1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7r2UeqJ75kc

Nearing Flood Stage

It has been raining for days now. This morning it was pounding on the roof so loud it woke me up. While I was drinking coffee, Jeremy came out and looked out the window and said "hum, it's flooding." Actually, the creek wasn't flooding but it was getting close. I headed down to see if anything was in imminent danger and I snapped a few photos.

The creek flows right by the barn; a few more inches and the downspout would be under water.

The "alley way" which is our crossing over the creek was just about to crest. The fencing trying hard to hold on.

Down at the road, there was still about 2 feet to go. That fence was about half under water.

When Jeremy and my dad put in the bridge, they spent considerable time thinking abut how hight to place the foundation so it and the bridge would be safe during high flows. The foundation was still about a foot from getting wet.

By late afternoon the rain had subsided and the creek never got any higher. No serious damage that we can see, but we'll have to wait until the water goes down to inspect the fencing. We may have to add some reinforcing around the culverts. Too bad we can't move the barn over a bit.

Loose Chickens

About three weeks ago we starting letting the chickens have full run of the orchard while we are at work. The "orchard" is a thin strip of land between the driveway and creek where we've planted a dozen fruit trees. There is a fence between the orchard and the driveway from the pole barn to the road, so the chickens (in theory) are trapped in.

One week after we let the ladies out to this new area my daughter said "you know mom, there's a place down at the road where the chickens could get out." I asked how she new that and she replied that she had tried to wiggle under the fence when she was six, but couldn't quite fit. As we drove by on the way to the store I noticed the spot she was referring to. It was about 1 ft high and 2 ft wide where the land starts to slope downward to the creek. And while the chickens could physically get out there, it seemed unlikely they would get all the way to the road and find that particular whole. How wrong I was.

Today my parents stopped by to pick up some Christmas decorations we were storing in the barn loft. They turned on to the driveway and discovered that two chickens (Pearl and George) were on the wrong side of the fence. They were freaked out and couldn't figure how to get back in. Chickens are not very bright. My parents stopped the car. Dad was easily able to catch Pearl - she is very friendly and likes to be held. George on the other hand would really rather not be touched. She also gets cranky when you try to catch her and she may scratch and peck. I think it's partly because she was given a boy's name. George was no match for my dad.

With them both back in with the other hens my parents decided to block the whole with some downed tree limbs - courtesy of our most recent wind storm. I think we'll just relegate the chickens to their run until this weekend when we can actually fix the opening.

De-parasiting

Today we had to administer the anti-parasite medicine to all the sheep.

Quick recap for those who didn't see the previous post. Notag got very sick. We had the vet run labs. She and everyone else had a lot of a particular parasite. Thus they all need shots to get rid of the bugs. (It's kind of like when you get strep throat - time for antibiotics.)

My parents came over to help and we got started at 11:30am. Junior has been on the side with the pole barn for the past couple of months. The pole barn has gates that can keep sheep in a small area. Plus, the pole barn has posts that we can tie sheep off to. So this is the best place for sheering, trimming hooves and giving shots. My dad and Jeremy held Junior while I trimmed his hooves and gave the shot. (I had experience giving shots with our first ewe who got really sick. We treated her for two months but she didn't get better.) Junior, other than being strong, was the easiest, by far, to deal with. Then he was put out to pasture ... wait, I mean we put him out onto the pasture.

Then we moved the ewes and lambs from the pasture they were on, into the pole barn. Tricky bits of pushing and herding (I see when people use dogs to do this work.) But we got them to the pole barn - 12 sheep in a small space is a bit over whelming. We started with Notag and Bubby - easy peasy. Then came the fun.

Me and my dad would block, while Jeremy scrimmaged and grabbed a sheep - whichever one he could get his hands on. Then, after wrestling the sheep to the ground, he and my dad would hold her down while I trimmed hooves. Mom prepped the shots and give to me to administer. (Mom also had to run around the pole barn depending on where Jeremy was able to pin the sheep down. We all got a great bit of exercise.)

The second sheep kicked Jeremy in the knee and head-butted him in the ear. I thought Jeremy might pass out, but he held it together. The forth sheep head-butted my dad square on the chin. Dad said he could see stars, literally. The lambs were much, much stronger then they looked. They would kick and wiggle and kick. It was touch and go if I could get the shot into the lamb and not into Jeremy's arm.

All said it took until 2:15pm to finish the animals. Even with all the craziness, kicking and head-butting we only had one sheep injury. I punctured Blacky with tip of the hoof shears. It was a small wound thankfully but still required a topical antibacterial wash.

Tomorrow we have to go back to work. You know when you see those bumper stickers that say "The worst day ----- is better then then best day working." Well today was not my worst day farming (not even close), but it was hard and it was better then my best day working. Wish I could farm all the time!

Bridging the Gap

When we moved here the previous owners allowed their horses full access to the creek. As a result there was almost no vegetation on the creek banks and they were slumping and eroding away. The first thing we did, after cleaning the house (which I'm sure wasn't cleaned for about 7 years), was to add fencing to keep our animals out of the creek. We created a great system of gates to create two pastures with access to the pole barn. What we didn't figure in was that the far side of the creek, between it and the new fence, would need to be mowed and we no longer had a crossing for the riding lawn mower.

At first this wasn't a big deal. There was very little vegetation along the creek and when it stopped flowing in early July Jeremy could just drive across. But 5 years late, and lots of work planting shrubs and trees and battling blackberries and reed canary grass, the vegetation is getting thick. Jeremy can't drive across the creek any more, so he found a different option.

The first bridge was two pieces of plywood and a couple 2 by 6's. It couldn't take the weight of the riding lawn mower, so Jeremy had to use the push mower - that's some long, hot work! But he did it, no complaints.

Then last winter I planted 15 fruit trees on the far side of the creek. I need access to the plants all year, even when the creek is full and flowing strong and the "bridge" would be washed away. I found a place where the creek was narrow and I could jump across. But this is very risky considering my track record of falling into oat troughs, tripping in mole holes and my most recent fall off the tall flower bed into a 5 foot high shrub.

This spring I asked my dad to put his 35+ years of engineering practice to work and design/build us a real bridge. Dad did some fancy math stuff and came up with a design for the span of the creek that would hold Jeremy on the riding lawn mower. It took two weekends to build. Jordan got to help stain and some of the stain even made it onto the wood. On Saturday, Dad and Jeremy spent 4 hours in the blazing sun (92 F) digging footings, placing the frame and securing the slats. At about 5pm, we did a load test and it held!

Bees Take Two

The first round of bees didn't work out too well. After consulting with some experts, here is what most likely happened. We purchase a top-feeder. This is necessary because the first few months the bees don't have enough food to survive. So you put a feeder, filled with sugar water, in the hive. There are many different types of feeders, even homemade ones that work well. My dad had purchase a top feeder that sits on top of the frames. The bees come up to the feeder, crawl over the outside edge and eat. The problem is, in the spring it is really cold and damp here in the Pacific Northwest. To keep warm the bees hang out in the middle of the frames, all together. They don't move to the outside frames and they don't move to the bottom or top - it's just too cold. Bottom line, our first bunch of bees starved because they were too cold to move and find the feeder. Come to find out that the local bee supply stores don't sell top feeders for this exact reason. We had gotten our top feeder online.

New rule of thumb, purchase farm supplies, of any kind, from local stores only.

Today, the second round of bees came. Dad purchased a frame feeder - it sits down between the frames, in the middle. Plus this time we got a 'nuc'. A nuc is a wooden box, with frames and bees. The bees have been living in the frames for a while and have developed comb. You simply remove some frames from the hive and place the nuc frames into the hive. Add the feeder and whoala, you are ready to go.

Jordan came down to help. It's funny because Jordan and I, in fact my whole family, aren't afraid of bees. We like to feed the yellow jackets bits of meat after BBQ's. But there is something visceral that happens when there are a few hundred bees flying about you. Dad got dudded up in his gear. He opened the nuc and those bees took off. They won't got to the bathroom in their home and they had been cooped up for a while, so they really, really needed out. My instant reaction was to back up, make Jordan back up and watch from a distance. Which we did. Once the frames were transferred from the nuc into the hive, the bees chilled out and we got closer.

It was not easy for dad to work alone on the bees because he didn't want to hurt them and wearing gloves, coat, hat, etc. makes it hard. I'm going to have to buy dudds so I can get in and help out. Such fashionable clothing - maybe they come in a nice cornsilk blue or sage green.

Sourdough

More than 20 years ago my dad decided to start sourdough. I'm not entirely sure why he decided this other than he and my mom have always been interested in 'traditional' cooking. So Dad did a bunch of research and began his starter. And we've been enjoying it ever since.  The original batch has had children and grandchildren - some lives at Bead Lake in NE Washington, some in Vancouver WA, some in Santa Fe NM and of course we have some here in Battle Ground. The starter gets used in pancakes, bread, biscuits and pizza crust (yep, pizza crust - recipe to follow).

Now, I know through doing some online research that there are real sourdough snobs out there. To them only pure sourdough is real sourdough. I'm not one of those people.  To me sourdough is just another form of preserving food.  So, if you are a sourdough snob, you shouldn't keep reading - you will be offended. If you're not that into the purity of sourdough, carry on.

Sourdough is a living culture that you use to create breads. You have to keep your sourdough alive so it will rise - this living thing is called 'starter.' Starter is really easy to make and once you have it, if you keep it healthy, you'll have it forever (actually I don't know if  'forever' is accurate but I know for a fact it will last more than 20 years). All you need to make starter is flour, warm water and yeast (I warned you snobs - if you kept reading even after being warned, I am actually suggesting you use commercial yeast in the starter). In glass bowl, mix one cup unbleached flour with one cup warm water and one teaspoon yeast. Cover loosely with a dish towel, and leave in a warm place for a few days until it's bubbly and smells sour. If it's not getting all bubbly (see picture for what it should look like), then discard one-half the mixture, add 1/2 cup four, 1/2 cup warm water and 1/2 teaspoon yeast - cover and leave for a couple more days. When you get a nice starter going, put it in a mason jar, set the lid on (don't screw down) and put in the fridge. After 2 days the yeast will go dormant and you can screw the lid on. That's it.

Every two or three weeks you need to feed your starter - it's a living culture after all. The best way to feed it is to use it. The night before you want to make something, scoop the starter (and hootch that has formed on the top) into a glass bowl. Add 2 cup unbleached flour, 2 cup warm water and 1-2 tablespoon sugar (snobs beware, I just said sugar). Mix thoroughly, cover loosely with a towel and leave in a warm spot over night. Next day, you should have a bubbly, smelly, yeasty glop called "sponge" - yummmm! Now, put a cup or so of the sponge back in the  mason jar.  This is your starter for next time.  With the rest of the sponge, you are ready to make breads. I love pancakes and bread from the bread machine, but the most unique is pizza crust, which my brother and his wife came up with. Here is the recipe:

Sourdough Pizza
By Mike and Joy Correll
makes 2 pizza

Make a sponge in a glass bowl by adding to your starter 3 cups flour, 2 cups warm water and 1 tablespoon sugar. Let sponge rise for 8 hours (Joy says in Santa Fe it only takes 4-6 hours, but up here in the Pacific NW it takes longer). When the sponge is ready, put 1 cup of it back into the mason jar - this is a very important step, if you forget then you have to make starter again.

To the remainder add 2 to 3 tablespoons of olive oil and stir thoroughly. In a separate bowl mix together 1 cup flour, 3 teaspoons of baking powder, 1 teaspoon of baking soda, 1 heaping teaspoon salt and 1 heaping tablespoon sugar. Mix dry ingredients together and then add to the sponge. Add more flour (usually 2 to 3 cups) until you reach a doughy consistency that isn't sticking to the sides of the bowl anymore. Split the dough into two balls. Use olive oil to grease your pizza stones. Place dough on stone and roll out until it overlaps the edge of the stone by about an inch or so (you may have to sprinkle some flour onto the dough to keep it from sticking to the roller). Hint - rotate pizza stone while rolling the dough. The crust should be about 1/4 inch (or less) thick because it will rise a lot during baking. Add toppings, whatever you like. Bake for approx. 30 to 45 min. at 350 or 375 F depending upon how crispy you like it. Viola-sourdough pizza!

To Bee Disappointed

Five days after installing the honey bees in their new home, we came to check on them. It was a warm (65 F), sunny, windless afternoon. My dad and I spent 30 minutes trying to get the smoker going. We'd get the newspaper lit and add some wood pellets. After pumping air through for a few minutes and getting some smoke going it would promptly go out. We made 4 or 5 attempts and then gave up. So we gathered up the gear - coat, hood, gloves, tools for extracting the frames, etc. - and headed down to the hive.

As we approached there were no bees coming or going - bad sign given the weather. They should be out and visiting flowers. Dad removed the lid and top feeder. In side all the bees were dead, including the queen. They hadn't moved much from when we closed up the hive last Tuesday. What did we do wrong?!

Going back over the steps - sugar water, queen with marshmallow plug, top feeder full, lid securely on - the only step we did wrong was to put the queen too far to the side instead of the middle of the hive. But that couldn't result in all the bees dying - could it?!

We dumped out the dead bees, packed up the equipment and headed to the house for some wine. What a huge disappointment.

Today my dad called the bees supply store where we had purchased the bees. They had sold 1200 cased of bees and only two reports (including ours) of all the bees dying. The clerk asked many, many questions about our process, set up, location, hive, food .... She concluded that the bees were very cold because of their trip across the pass and getting jostled into the hive in the cold and rain. This resulted in them not moving up in the hive to where the food water located (we have a top feeder). As a result they stayed where they were and starved to death. Sounds horrible!

We ordered another batch of bees, but we are now last in line and we won't get them until late May. At least the weather will be better then. If anyone has suggestions about getting the honey bees established, I'd love to hear.

The Bees are Here

Today we became caretakers of honey bees. The bees came in a cage, roughly the size of a large shoebox, and arrived at a supply store in Gresham. They were due to arrive yesterday however, a snow storm on the pass delayed the shippment by a few hours. So my dad headed down to the store today while I was at work. Apparently hundreds of people are adding honey bees this year. Dad said there was a steady line, dozens deep, to pick up cages and nucs of bees.

I met dad our here at our place. What a crappy day to bring the bees home - rainy, windy, cold - so we had to move fast. Step one, add some more nails to the frames (we learn in the class that the frames get really heavy and sticky and can come apart). The cage of bees was left in the car during this step. Next we had to get the queen's cage, as smaller cage with just queen inside, out of the larger cage. But first we had to whack the cage to make the bees drop to the bottom. Guess what, whacking the cage makes the bees a little unhappy. The larger cage had a tin can of sugar water in, which we removed to get inside and pull out the queen's cage and some of the angry bees escaped. Dad was stung on his finger but me and Jordan were unharmed.

With the queen out, and there were about 10-15 'attendant' bees on the outside of her cage, we had to remove the cork in her cage and replace with a marshmallow. (The other bees will eat through the marshmallow in a few days and during that time accept the queen vs killing her.) Dad pulled the cork and I shoved the marshmallow in, too hard and it went all the way in. Fortunately this was anticipated and we had a second marshmallow. This time I just plugged the opening. With some contorting into the hive, dad was able to tack the queens cage in the middle of the frames (see picture).

Next came the fun part - shaking the bees out of the cage and into the hive (see pictures). To entice the bees and maybe keep them from getting so pissed off, we spray sugar-water inside the hive. That worked great. Instead of swarming around, the bees landed in the hive and smelled the food - yum, yum - went right to eatting. Dad was stung again but it was because the bee got caught between his wrist and watch. After much whacking and shaking of the cage, we finally got most of the bees into the hive and put the frames back in careful not the squish the bees.

Interesting fact - bees don't pee and poop in their home. So during this disruption they took the opportunity to releave themselve. Dad got lots of poops on him. There was even bee poop on my camera.

Bees 101

Saturday my dad and I took a Bee 101 class through Urban Bounty, which sponsors a series of garden related classes in Portland. But before I get to all the cool stuff we learned .... Saturday night we went out with some friends and all of them asked what I was up to that day. To which I answered, "I took a class on raising bees." The responses I got were "Wow, you're brave." "Why would you raise bees?" "Aren't you worried about getting stung." Interesting, I was expecting responses like "Cool. Where are you going to keep them?"

Ok, back to the class. The first half was in a classroom with a powerpoint and demonstrations. The man, Glen, who taught the class, was obviously an expert. Every question asked was provided a very detailed answer. For example, someone asked about the worker bees and if they just spend all their time going out to get nectar and pollen. Glen said that there are actually a number of roles to play in the hive. The worker bees, all of which are female, each play one role. For example, one worker bee’s role may be to fly out and gather the nectar and pollen. She has two stomachs and stores a bit of the nectar in her second stomach, where some really scientific enzyme thing happens. When she returns to the hive she gives the nectar from her second stomach to a different worker bee, which puts the nectar in her own second stomach. Another scientific enzyme thing happens. She takes the nectar, which is now on its way to becoming honey, up inside the hive and deposits in the comb.

After lunch we went to Glen's houses in northeast Portland. It’s an older neighborhood and the houses all have small yards. Glen had 11 hives in his yard - 11. We got into a few of them. Normally, you would get into a hive on a nice warm day because most of the bees are out in the field and those in the hive are warm and happy and going about their work. However, Saturday was a cold, rainy, windy, nasty day. Very few bees were flying. Most were huddled together in the hive trying to keep warm. So when we came along and opened the hives, we really pissed them off.

Glen, of course, was in full beekeeper regalia (hood, jump suit, gloves) but the rest of us, about 30 people, were just in clothes and jackets. The angry bees buzzed around to check us all out. At one point I had about 20 bees on me. It did make me nervous - I was worried I would turn my head wrong or move my arm and squish a bee, which would sting me. So I just moved slowly. Out of the 30 people standing around in the cloud of angry bees for about an-hour-and-a-half, only one person got stung. (Interesting fact - male honeybees, called drones, don't have stingers at all.) Pretty amazing - thousands of angry bees, 30 people standing around and only one sting.

Our bees arrive Monday – I’m very excited!!!

Construction

One year ago March we started construction on the chicken coop. But let me start with the chicken argument.

When we moved out to the country and we were discussing what animals to get, I said chickens should be in the mix. What farm is complete without a few chickens running around. Jeremy said "No. They are too noisy and they stink." For the next three years I continued to explain my position - chickens only stink if you have a 3 dozen in a 10x10 ft area and never clean it - he said "If you clean it." I said "No roosters, so it won't be noisy." Then it came to "It looks bad" because our neighbor's run was covered in chicken wire and wasn't very attractive. I said we didn't need to cover it and he said "but the raccoons will get in." Mind you, this wasn't an argument, more of a 3-year-long discussion.

Last winter I said, "That's it, we have to get chickens. Our farm needed chickens!" Jeremy relented but wasn't excited about helping get it set up. We were also getting pigs that spring and he had a pig pen to build. So, I got my dad to agree to help me built a coop and run with the promise of more eggs then he and my mom could eat. We all agreed on the location and that it would be fine as long as we didn't cover it. In March, Jordan and I went to Wilco and bought seven chicks.

I spent considerable time research chickens, looking for the best laying breeds. I had decided on Buff Orpingtons, which are a pretty golden color and a good layer. I told Jordan that we would get four buff orpingtons and she could pick three of another breed, any breed as long as it was a layer not a fryer. She walked right up to the chicken brooders at Wilco, took a quick look in all the bins and said "those". I didn't know the breed so we asked the attended and it turned out she picked a good layer. (Phooey on my hours of internet research.) Jordan chose Light Brahmas, which are a gorgeous white and black variety.

The construction of the coop was quite an experience. I've never built anything. Again with the hours of internet research looking at designs. I drew out the design I wanted to do. Jeremy looked over and made some good suggestions. Then my dad and I poured over it for a couple hours, making a few more changes. Perfection!

We did an inventory around the house and barns and found most all of the materials needed for the coop. We would need to buy some plywood, hinges, bolts, roofing material and a few other specific items - but most of the materials were recycled from old decks and structures removed from the house. We had designed the coop to use 2 x 4's for the frame, but what we had was primarily 2 x 6's.

We started and within an hour started adapting the design to fit what was actually happening: the 2 x 6's were larger so everything was bigger, the roost design was impractical once we thought about it from the chicken's perspective, we needed more vents, the roof pitch was too complicated, etc., etc. Making all the adjustments also made the process very slow. Four weekends just to construct the coop and another weekend to do the run - thank god we weren't constructing a house, it would have taken three years. It's also amazing how tiring construction is. One day dad and I spent nearly nine hours, continuously, working on the coop. At 7pm dinner I could barely chew my food and had to drag myself to the bed, get the dirty clothes off and pass out. Lots of props for people who work real construction everyday!

The picture is of Jordan sitting in the coop before we put the front on. The space under the wire floor became drawers for easier cleaning. You can see the nest boxes in the back, which have turned out to be too large, but still work. The roost is large enough, but we had to really mess around with mounting it. But overall it worked out great and the coop has been perfect. The best feature is an easy latching front door that we close every night - eliminates any concern about the night prowlers (raccoons or opossums).

This spring, we are down to six chickens. One turned out to be a roaster and thus became fajitas. It was one of the buff orpingtons or as Jordan said "I'm glad it's one of yours not mine." During the summer, we got one egg per chicken every day. During the winter it went down to two eggs per day. Now we are back up to three to four eggs a day. (I am paying my dad for his help in eggs - half-a-dozen per week.) And it is true - farm fresh eggs are way, way better than store bought.

The run is still not covered and so far we haven't had problems with racoons and the such. Although some squirels have moved in under the coop. Every 3-4 months I clean the coop out. Chicken poop is surpisingly light weight and easy to deal with, plus the garden loves it. And the chickens only make noise when they are laying - the sheep are way louder than the chickens. Jeremy now agrees that the chickens have been a nice addition to the farm.