Weed control

I spent three days last week killing noxious weeds. Specifically, I ran my vendetta against thistles (our perennial favorite, but actually a biennial), dandelions (an actual perennial, becoming more of a problem for all farmers in the area in the last few years), and hoary alyssum (or as Howard,the old farmer who mentored Dave, called it, "whore alyssum").

We've been killing thistles for years, ever since a bad drought back in the 80's when they took off because nothing else grew.  We've salted thistles, cut their stems when they were large hoping that rain water would get in there and rot the stem, scythed them when they were huge and blooming because we didn't get to that chore any earlier, sprayed them with herbicides in the summer, spring and fall. Two years ago we replanted  our hay fields to control the thistles and ended up with an amazing crop of dandelions and hoary alyssum.

I love dandelion blossoms, so bright and cheerful, but their broad, flat leaves take up a  lot of space in a field without producing useful forage. As our dandelion concentration grew, the amount of food our field produced decreased.

Hoary alyssum is an insignificant plant with small leaves and small flowers. Howard showed us a patch of it in a pasture thirty years ago and told us to watch out for it. We've kept watch and for thirty years, it sort of kept to itself. We pulled every flower stalk we saw and the plants didn't spread. Last summer, we found hoary alyssum everywhere, not just in one pasture, but scattered throughout our pastures and hay fields. When we called the county extension agent, he was pretty relaxed about the dandelions and thistles in our fields until we mentioned the alyssum and then he told us we had to replant.

So last fall we sprayed the hay fields with herbicides and this spring Dave planted oats into barren ground for hay. After we bale the oats he'll plant alfalfa for next year. I've been spot spraying the weeds around the edges of our fields and in the pastures. I'm using a noxious chemical to control the noxious weeds and I don't like it. However, in all our years of trying to farm as sustainably and as organically as possible, we have never met the organic standards.

Hopefully, by next summer, our noxious weed control can be delegated to our grandsons who love to pick dandelions blossoms by the bagful for their moms.

How to dye with Kool-Aid

Twice a year, fiber people gather at our farm to share skills, patterns, and enthusiasm. They bring fiber projects to work on and a dish to share for lunch. Some people want to learn to spin. Others come for the felting lessons. Still others spend their day around the dye pots.

Not everyone can dye at home in their kitchens, so having a place to go that supplies dye pots, dyes and a heat source (a wood fire) is a real plus. Some years we dye in the rain. One year we dyed in the snow. Last Saturday we dyed on a perfect day, sunny and windless. People dyed carded roving and yarns. They experimented with variegated yarns, dying only parts of a skein at a time. They overdyed gray and brown yarns with blue. They used commercial dyes, natural dyes and Kool-Aid.

The commercial dyes the most dependable dyes one could ever use, the natural dyes are probably the most capricious, and the Kool-Aid dyes the safest. You can dye with Kool-Aid in your cooking pots, in your kitchen, with kids, and never have to worry about toxicity. Beyond it's safety, there are two really wonderful things about Kool-Aid as a dye: 1) the colors are bright and childlike, and 2) the yarn smells like Kool-Aid for a long time after dyeing.

The following recipe was developed for small amounts of wool by Kathey Skarie: 


Kool-Aid Dyeing in a Microwave
Materials:

• 1/2 oz clean fiber (wool, angora, mohair, silk, llama).
• 1 - 2 packages unsweete
  
  ned Kool-Aid, may be more than one flavor
• White vinegar
• Microwave safe container
• Plastic wrap.

Directions:

• Soak fiber in the microwave container; drain off the excess water. (If your water is hard, mix in some Calgon to soften it.)
• Sprinkle dry Kool-Aid over the fiber. Poke the Kool-Aid into the fiber with your fingertips. This is a good way to make a variegated fiber, either using two colors (flavors) of Kool-Aid or leaving lots of fiber with no color in it. (If your water contains iron, the grape will be a very disappointing gray.)
• Mix a "glug" of vinegar with one cup of water. Pour this mixture around the fiber, using just enough to keep the fiber moist but not enough to mix the Kool-Aid. The colors should remain distinct.
• Cover with plastic wrap and microwave until the fiber is just hot. Use short time settings and check frequently. Too much heat or time could damage the fiber.
• Cool. Rinse gently. 

Batch Kool-Aid Dyeing
Materials:

• 1# wool
• 10 packages one flavor of Kool-Aid
• large kettle

Directions:

• Dissolve 10 packages of Kool-Aid in a large kettle to make a dye bath.
• Wet the wool, then submerge in dye bath.
• Turn stove to high and heat until just before the bath boils.
• Turn heat to medium low and simmer for 30 minutes.
• Pour off dye. Allow wool to cool. Rinse in cool water until the water runs clear. Hang to dry.

Everything depends on the weather

Our apple trees arrived April 15. The directions said to plant them immediately, even if the ground was frozen. The ground wasn't frozen, but it snowed as we dug holes along the edge of the hayfield and patted the cold dirt over the roots of the trees. Dave had planned to seed the orchard with grass before we planted. Then we would lay out the drip irrigation lines and mulch the trees with skirtings, the dirty wool skirted from our fleeces.

One month later, we still haven't planted grass in the orchard or oats in the rest of our fields. It has rained relentlessly, the wind has blown steadily, and most days the thermometer barely rises above 45 degrees. We haven't planted, we haven't even dug the fields. When they dry just a little more, hopefully tomorrow, Dave will hook the disk to the tractor and begin our field work.

If the weather warms up and the rains keep coming, we'll cut oats for hay about 55 days after he seeds. Then we hope for a few sunny and dry days so the hay will dry and we can begin baling. Summer is here, but the schedule of summer - when we cut, when we bale, when we spray, when we reseed - all depends on the weather.

How to wash a sheepskin

Sheepskins get dirty - the baby you're trying to photograph pees on it, or your cat vomits on it, or the dog wipes his muddy feet on it. And so eventually you have to figure out how to wash them. Jerry Stern, owner of Stern Tanning Company, suggests the following technique for washing a lamb or sheepskin. I've also added a few comments.

Begin by using a vacuum on your sheepskin to remove some veggies before washing.

Wash skin in 80 degree water with mild liquid detergent on gentle cycle with five minutes or less agitation. Some customers add a teaspoon of olive oil to rinse bath.

Spin out excess water. 

Hang to dry at room temperature, indoors. 

While it is still a little damp, occasionally stretch the hide from side to side to help open up the leather. If the hide is too wet, the stretching will not accomplish anything. When the hide is damp, stretching will open up the leather and the leather will lighten in color and become soft. 

If the hide becomes too dry prior to stretching, lightly moisten the leather with water and fold the hide leather to leather. Once the leather becomes damp, stretching can be done.

We still use sheepskins on the floor, but the ones that drape over chairs and sofas stay beautiful longer.

The season of mud

 

Somewhere between February's bone-chilling cold and May's crisp, white bloodroot blossoms,  the sap rises in the maple trees on the lake shore. Between the ice crystals and the first scent of summer comes the season of mud. This is the time when we forsake our jobs and other responsibilities to play in the woods - to make maple syrup with friends.

We tap maple trees with a brace and bit. We carry five gallon buckets of sap fresh with the scent of spring, from trees to sugar camp. We split one foot lengths of maple, ash and ironwood  and feed the fires until the hair on the back of our hands scorches. We boil the sap down to sweet, golden syrup. We share our days with people who return year after year, to walk the trails, to work and to talk.

Nights below freezing and days above forty degrees, when the ground is frozen first thing in the morning but melts to mud by noon, are ideal for sugaring. If the wind blows over the lake ice before it hits the trees, or if the temperature barely drops to thirty-two degrees at night, or if the sun doesn't shine, the sap may not run. But whether the sap runs or not, the sugar bush is a wonderful place to be.

In March, the woods are an etching in black and white, branches against snow. The downy woodpecker hunts bugs beneath the bark of dying trees, a sharp rat-a-tat-tat in the silence. As the snow melts and the mud deepens around the fire pits, the sap dripping into the cans sounds a steady plink, plink, plink. By April, V's od Canada geese fly overhead, looking for open water, and crimson cup fungi poke through the mulch of pale brown leaves. In

early May, the last drops of sap have turned yellow and the mud has dried. Wild leeks thrust their pungent leaves upward toward sunlight. We pull the taps from the trees,  clean our equipment and say good bye.

Another season in the sugar bush has come and gone. Our lives return to normal. No more daily picnics, no more trying to do a week's work in a day and a half, no more long days in the woods with friends until summer has passed and winter has come again. Then, we know that it is almost time for the sugar bush -   that we have almost, once again, reached the season of mud.




This essay first appeared in Otter Tail Review

Mighty hunters

Two winters ago, a 50 ft ash tree in our sugar bush lost one of its two  major branches. The branch split from the main trunk and fell south, to  rest 30 ft up on half a dozen small maples. The branch was still attached to the tree by a wood and bark hinge. Dave couldn't figure out the best way to get either the branch or the tree down. They call those kinds of branches "widow makers" because they can break from whatever is holding them up and crash to the ground at any time.

Last winter the second main branch ripped away from the trunk at the same point. It fell to the north with the tips of it's smaller branches resting on the ground, and there it hung, still connected at the top by a  hinge of wood and bark.

The tree was dead - no viable branches, just two widowmakers. We had to get it down before it fell on someone. Normally, to fell a tree, Dave cuts a small notch  about 2 feet off the ground on the side of the tree to which he wants it to fall. Next he cuts through the tree on the opposite side, leaving a small hinge of wood. Then, if the winds are right, and his eye is good, the tree falls, missing all the trees in the way and comes to rest on the ground where we want it.

 With a widow maker on both sides of the tree, Dave was uninterested in cutting a small notch in the trunk and then cutting almost all the way through to the notch. There were just too many things that could fall from the sky, too many unpredictable branches.

Sometimes, when the stars or the planets are not aligned, or the woods are too dense, a falling tree hangs up on other trees, or leans, but doesn't fall. Then we get out the come-along and 100 feet of  rope and encourage the tree to fall all the way to the ground with brute force.
The come-along usually does the trick.

On our double widow maker, Dave carefully trimmed the small branches off the main branch until it hung vertically beside the trunk. This didn't rip the hinge at the top and allow the branch to fall. Next he tied the  rope to the hanging branch and connected it to the come along that was anchored on a big tree 50 feet to the south, twisting the hanging branch around the trunk. Dave and Chris tightened up the come-along, The branch rose almost to horizontal, but didn't release from the top of the tree. They took it all apart and pulled the branch to the north, twisting it the other way around the main trunk. They put tension on the branch and tightened the com-
along over and over. Next they added their weight to the situation, three grown men swinging like monkeys from the rope, trying to  rip the branch away from the main trunk. It seemed like such a little hinge of wood, just a light wind should have ripped it free.

The rest of us watched  from a safe distance, adding our suggestions and watching the hinge at the top of the tree for progress. The last suggestion of the day came from Edgar. "Why don't I bring my 10 guage shotgun and shoot that hinge."

Sunday, Edgar brought "Boomer" and from 50 feet away, Dave shot twice. After the first shot the branch dropped a few inches. After the second the hinge shattered and the branch crashed to the ground.  We all cheered. The second act will be the really tricky one, to fell the tree with one  widowmaker still tangled in the tree tops. This may take more than a well aimed shotgun blast from a vegetarian hunter.

How to make felted Easter eggs

Felting is a fantastic introduction to fiber arts. Anyone can learn to felt in just a little while. Although it takes longer to become an expert, beginners do well.  These  beautiful decorations can be made by all ages and skill levels. An adult should work with young children as the needles are very sharp.

Materials:
3" styrofoam egg or ball
1/2 ounce carded wool batt or roving, various colors
felting needles
nylon stocking
hot water, clear dish soap

1) Separate carded bat or roving into thin, narrow pieces
2) USing a felting needle, secure thin strips of wool to the egg, adding different colors of wool to make your design. Push the needle repeatedly straight into the egg, through the wool.
3) Carefully insert the wool covered egg into a nylon stocking. Tie off the end of the stocking next to the egg.
4) Add a squirt of dish detergent to a small bowl of very hot water. Submerge the egg. Roll the wet egg in your hands, between your palms, to felt the wool. This should take three to four minutes.
5) Dry in a bowl with a hand held hair dryer.
6) You may add further designs at this point with your felting needle.
7) To hang your egg, use sewing thread and a doll makers needle to pull the thread through the egg. Tie a pony bead at the bottom of the egg and make a hamging loop from thread at the top.

The important thing to remember about felting an egg is that wool can move as you felt it. The end product may not be at all what you expect until you become an expert felter. But no matter what happens, you will have a beautiful egg, guaranteed.