Big weather, January gardening, and the end of real food

Welcoming new subscribers with some weather and garden chitchat plus one answer to the question of why I do what I do

Predawn snow storm

After what felt like weeks of one identical gray day after another as December merged into January, snow and single digit weather blew into Turtle Paradise. We enjoyed a week of frozen, white-covered ground before the temperature soared to 60°F. The respite was over and mud returned with a vengeance.

Very short-lived snow monster

When winter temperatures rise here in the Mid-Ohio Valley, rain usually arrives soon after. This time enough precipitation fell to cause a high water event, and while the Ohio River did not reach flood stage, numerous low-lying county and township roads were submerged. We saw walking trails, pasture margins, and the shooting range go under, which is a common occurrence and no cause for alarm. Much of the farm lies in flood plain and is inundated on a regular basis.

Low end of the pasture, corner post visible in upper left

Our section of the Ohio River and its tributaries have existed in their current configuration for tens of thousands of years and during that time their flows have shaped the adjacent land. Floodplains are exactly what their name suggests: Low expanses that accept the overflow of these waterbodies. Living a few meters above the floodplain and observing the ebbs and flows of the river year after year, I've grown accustomed to floods and recognize them for the natural occurrence that they are. When I hear of devastating floods in the media, I wonder how much damage is due to stronger storms and how much to simply continuing to build where we shouldn't.

Due to good decisions made in the 1800’s, our house and barn sit above the water level of all but the worst floods. Twenty years ago the fallout from Hurricane Ivan brought six inches of water into the barn (visible in the background below.) The Ohio crested at about five feet above major flood stage, devastating downtown businesses and gobsmacking anyone who had lived here less than 40 years. This was the worst flood of my lifetime, but we survived unscathed with the exception of some stacked lumber foolishly left in the bottom field.

Target practice canceled until further notice

I don't wish catastrophe on anyone, but I do love blizzards, floods, and natural disasters of all sorts. This delight in extreme weather events is probably a result of spending my childhood wishing fervently for such events to cancel school. (I am a lifelong champion of labor unions due to a teachers' strike that kept us home for three weeks.) Extreme weather brings a respite from everyday life. Think of when the power goes out and it's suddenly a bit exciting. Everything looks different by candlelight and the quiet is complete. The family gathers and the power of the screens is temporarily broken.

The best weather events don't cause power outages — just temporary road closures. I love water just high enough to close down the county road that snakes around our property on the river’s far side. With the leaves down, the road is no longer muffled and blocked, and when outside we're aware of each vehicle as it traverses the extended curve. Floodwaters shut it down and bring a deep quiet that I never realize I'm wishing for until it's here.

Neighbor's field, looking upstream

The most recent flood stopped short of the mark and pickup trucks sped on though. Cars drove down, but most turned around after the driver assessed the situation, which didn't lessen traffic at all. A day later the water relinquished the road, and now we're back to identical gray days.

Since it's not actively raining now (much) I've been in the garden getting a jumpstart on spring by mulching and pruning. I often think of what Bruce Lee said: “Make at least one definite move daily toward your goal.” A problem arises when there are too many goals to address daily, so I've simply mentally removed that word. Making one definite move toward any goal on any day feels like a win.

Even after a low of 0°F there are spots of green in the garden

This past week I pruned berries. This was a multi-day task, but the growing pile of waste reminded me that I was making real progress. Pruning, mulching, weeding, and repairing bed borders are all tasks that can be done in winter during warm spells. While current garden wisdom advises waiting to tidy up until temps are consistently above 50°F, I apply this advice only to native plants that might harbor valuable invertebrate life. Berry canes are fair game, and in fact must be pruned before spring for health and harvest.

The key to being able to maintain extensive areas is working year round and measuring progress in tiny increments. I might not make daily inroads, but I regularly tackle small bits and pieces of tasks. It's important to state that nothing I do here crucial to my family’s survival. I could simply take my paycheck to the grocery store and buy everything we need to get by. We spend a hell of a lot at supermarkets as it is, but cutting the grocery bill is just a small part of the plan.

Officially warm enough to sit outside

While there are many interrelated and ongoing projects here on the farm, maximizing food production is a major one. Home gardening is more than just a healthy hobby. It's crucially important because real, unadulterated food is disappearing. If you want to eat food that provides the nourishment for true health, and avoid consuming a boatload of poisons and hidden additives, you'd better start growing some or frequenting your local farmers’ market.

In her latest installment on dealing with mass cell activation syndrome,

Lisa Brunette

at Brunette Gardens delves into the difficulties of healing through diet when additives are ubiquitous and it's hard to tell what you're putting into your body, even if you're adept at label reading. There is important information here, and not just for people with autoimmune issues. Lisa stresses that people with sensitivities to what passes for food these days are like the proverbial coal mine canary: This stuff isn't good for any of us and just because you're not having an immediate reaction, this doesn't mean there aren't serious long-term consequences. Consuming real food is crucial for maintaining lifelong health, both physical and mental.

Navigating the autoimmune condition

In addition to the toxic additive problem, the processing of food is removing nutrients, and even whole foods are becoming less nutritious as micronutrients disappear from our soils. The good news is that growing at least some of our own food is possible for many of us. The ridiculous expenses and complications of home gardening that I was seeing in books, articles, and online led me to start writing about my experiences growing food. While I've widened the scope of the newsletter considerably, many posts on the topic are available in the archives. I've added a “Gardening” category to the website navigation bar where relevant posts will be easily accessible.

Though it is only early Feburary I have noticed certain tree buds are swelling in preparation for spring. Within a few weeks my phone will be filled with dozens of photos of plant buds in various stages of opening. Later in the season when the growth explosion is underway, I will wonder what possessed me to take so many and I will delete most of them, but now each swelling bud seems like a small miracle. I'll be sharing a few of those photographs here, plus several million flower pictures, so if you have become a subscriber since last growing season, brace yourself. Thanks for reading!

Flower buds of Lenten rose have been spotted!