Update: The Homestead Organic Journal

April 10: Semi-monthly self-reminders: I'm keeping a dubiously truthful farmer journal for my readers this year. I joined Peachland's Slow-Pitch Softball League. Large Spoonful of Mayonaisse, as a quickie-lunch-for-a-modern-farmer-on-the-go, is neither nutritionally sufficient nor very enjoyable.

April 11: Multiple farm-related trips to the post office this time of year. Peachland is blessed with really nice Canada Post Employees. Westbank, less so. At least not on Friday afternoons.

The arsenal of a Peachland Farmer.

April 12:  With Peachland Players, performed third showing of Bus Stop, or, as I assume two elderly attendees called it, Perfect Place to Verbally Compile Grocery List For Tomorrow, Notwithstanding Distraction of Dramatic Dialogue A Few Feet Away. Audiences otherwise wonderful.  

April 14: Started cukes and zukes indoors for later transplanting. Those who have trouble germinating their cucurbits in flats and pots could try sprouting them first between layers of wet paper towel in a plastic freezer bag on the counter. Winter squash to be started within next couple of weeks, especially if one intends to win the largest pumpkin competition at this year's Fall Fair. Which I do. Though, having ordered more giant pumpkin seeds than one competitor can use, would be happy to pass on as many extra seedlings as I have to people hoping to place second. Would even provide some garden space here. Kids get first dibs but all are welcome...250 767 6636 is my number, he writes in his journal.

April 19: UK's The Guardian: China reveals that 20% of its farmland is polluted with toxic metals. Time to switch to Indian ginger.

Same: Lost two hours setting up some trellising with anchor posts that were too light and insufficiently deep. I would call my farming style hapless but it's not so much bad luck for me as it is dumb luck. Back when I was an  apprentice farmer, the neighbour of my first teacher used to accuse him of frequently spending a dollar to save a nickel. Clearly I was paying attention.

April 20: Game three of Slow-Pitch today. Was moved from Right Field to Left because better fielders were absent. During first at bat, I perceptively noticed the third baseman was hanging back pretty far, and skillfully, neigh, masterfully tapped a bunt a few feet down the foul line before blazing to first. The cheers I expected were preempted by every player on both teams yelling that men weren't allowed to bunt. The jeering I took the rest of the game (they called me Kasey at the Bat...notice the spelling) was less about a broken rule (men can't bunt in slow-pitch) than a broken axiom (men don't bunt in slow-pitch). We lost 20-3. That's not a typo.

April 21: Dropped Vanessa off in Vancouver for her two month midwifery student placement in Uganda. Meaning: I can forget to apply deodorant and wear the same work pants for days on end with less guilt than usual. Also meaning: A Ugandan Hospital gains, and a Peachland Farm loses, a real good gal. Be safe Vern! Take care of her, Ugandans!

2014 Veggie Box Promo #2: The Disapproving Father

Farmer Jordan and the case of the disapproving dad. A video for your enjoyment.

And, in case you missed the first one:

Veggie Box Program Registration Continues

Sign-ups are going well folks! Thanks to those of you who have helped promote us. We're still accepting registrations, and we've included our most recent promo below in case you missed it. 

The Homestead Organic Farm's home-delivered, weekly veggie box program is now open for registration for residents living from Westbank to Peachland. In this series, Farmer Jordan Marr tells you why you should consider participating in the program.

Update: The Homestead Organic Journal

March 27. I'm keeping a purportedly non-fictional farm journal this year. For some reason I feel the urge to remind myself of that about, oh, every two weeks or so. Weird!

March 28: A full day off the farm spent down the road in Summerland @ TH Wines, helping friend and moustache enthusiast Tyler Harlton bottle 1000 cases of his best stuff. Tyler made me the Dumper, who stands at the head of a mobile bottling line on a tractor-trailer and dumps each case of empty bottles into the bottling machine. 

Thrived in the role, but, likely owing to repeated exposure to the tiny puffs of microscopic cardboard particles that wheeze out with each dumped case by day's end, I was showing the telltale dry cough of Dumper's Lung . Another Dumper Wunderkind snuffed out before his time.

March 31: Transplanted beets, spinach, scallions, basil, parsley, salad turnips, kale, chard, and lettuce into unheated tunnels. Peas could be planted outside any time. Started broccoli and kale in the nursery. Potted on tomatoes, peppers, eggplants. Local gardeners should get their tomatoes started indoors if they haven't already, or plan on buying seedlings.

April 2: Such nice weather! Bumped into my landlord, Joe, just after having removed my shirt for cooling purposes following a hard run. He remarked that I had shoulders like a runway model. Wore a tube top around the farm for three days before I realized it wasn't a compliment. 

April 4: Embarrassed to be seen in IGA just to buy candy, $1.50 worth, for sweets addiction, on a debit card, I grab some flowers for Vanessa too. This was a good decision; she was pleased. She mightn't have been if she knew the moral compromise involved. You've heard of blood diamonds? These were Gummi Bear Tulips.

April 6: Rehearsals for Bus Stop with the Peachland Players continue as we approach opening night on April 10. My character, a young cowboy, is supposed to eat three burgers during the play, which we'll be procuring from A&W. I just did the math: 5 shows x 3 burgers/show = 15 burgers in four days. And an angioplasty on the fifth.

April 7: Experimenting with starting carrots in the nursery for later transplanting. Not normally done, but using a special potting method called soil blocking will allow me to transplant the carrots out, three or four to each soil block, without disturbing their roots. If it works I'll avoid time-consuming carrot weeding later on. One of my favourite parts of this job is the leeway to approach every single task from various angles. A farm is a giant set of puzzles to be solved.

April 8: Does anyone else's heart sing when they drive by the once controversial Peachland skate park and see, like a jillion youths enjoying the heck out of it? Though suppose it comes at the expense of the traffic at the Peachland Drugs and Graffiti Park, so I guess it's a zero sum game.

Dr. Veggie Grower and Mr. Cowboy

You already knew that Jordan grows veggies, is unkempt, and eats onions like apples, but did you know he is also a community theatre enthusiast? Well, he is, and you can see him perform this week in a play in Peachland. He hopes to see you there!

Soil Sample Prep

we recently sent off some soil samples of various sections of our gardens so that we can have a better sense of the characteristics of our soil. This will allow us to make corrections if necessary, with the goal of giving our crops what they need to thrive.

Registration now open for our 2014 Veggie Box Program!

It's open! It's open! We're now accepting registrations for our 2014 Veggie Box Program. Check out our new promo video!

What do you do all winter?

I get that question a lot from people. One way I keep busy is by putting out an amateur podcast for my fellow farmers and gardeners. Here's one episode I produced in January, in which I interview a colleague on his mastery of market gardneing, as told in a book he recently wrote.

The Basics of Cooking with Swiss Chard

Uploaded by Jordan Marr on 2013-06-06.

The Homestead Essay

Hot and Bothered

I transplanted the second half of a bed of spring onions in my skivvies last week. This was not planned, nor should it have been at all necessary, given that it was late March. But this heat! What is with this heat?

The bed in question was in our greenhouse, and the temperature in there at 4pm was punishing, even with all the vents open. The clothes had to come off. Which is why my landlord, Joe, got more than he bargained for when he sought me out regarding a farming matter of importance: a hirsute, 230-odd pound ogre handling scallions in nothing but rubber boots and a pair of frayed gray underpants.

Worry not, dear customer; no scallions suffered a brush with the newly bare parts of my body. I'm surprisingly nimble in the garden in spite of my considerable heft; so deft are my movements among the pathways, in fact, that my partner Vanessa has taken to calling me her little garden fairy; a nickname that took some getting used to but that I have now embraced, although she is forbidden from telling my three brothers about it.

Everyone I've encountered lately has been commenting that I must be thrilled about this year's swift and balmy spring. Certainly, the garden is benefiting from this lovely start to the season. But they forget that farmers possess a special talent for seeing the dour side of every situation.

Here it is: Spring sprung too fast! As a veggie farmer, the garden is sufficiently undemanding during the winter months that I settle into a very different lifestyle. It's hermetic, for one; my partner Vanessa spends her winters away at school and my landlords head south for a month or more, and so I spend many days alone in my cabin.

The solitude begins getting to me some time in late January, and it tends to affect my social judgements. I chat up sales clerks for entirely too long, to the frustration of those behind me; I consider causing fender benders just for the delight of the interaction required.

And, at the pool in Westbank, which I sporadically visit to in a half-hearted attempt to quell the ambition of my winter paunch, I asked a fellow swimmer if he wanted to meet up for a workout now and again (this is typically seen as a no-no in fitness contexts, though it paid off; his name is Dave. He's from Alberta, and he's got a wicked butterfly).

Occasional swims aside, my winters are decidedly less physical than the rest of the year, and also less hectic.

Which is why Spring's suddenness this year has been a bit of a shock to my system. For the first two weeks of full days spent in the garden, my back protested angrily when I crawled out of bed each morning. I've been a little resentful of the lost leisure-time I was getting because of early sunsets, and I'm still getting used to the increase in social interactions now that everyone is out and about.

I've been feeling a bit guilty about my outlook, but I really do think there is something to be said for a slow transition between the seasons to give the body and mind a chance to adjust, or at least, to avoid greenhouse stripteases because of poor clothing selection. And I know Winter agrees with me. It feels like June right now, but across the lake, snow still lingers on the mountain tops, which is Spring's equivalent of a stiff back.

Winter Greens!

Winter Greens! With all this warm weather I inspected one of the hoophouses today to find that one of last year's beds of greens had bounced back beautifully. Looking forward to a hearty salad tonight!

Vote for a hat, maybe win some flowers

You all can imagine our delight when our landlady/neighbour/farmer-extraordinaire, Jessica, showed up with matching hats for the Homestead Farm team. That's Vanessa on the left, Jordan at centre, and the farm's new intern, Claire, at right. Ever wondered what the best colour for a hat is? The answer is: all of them. But we need your help. Who best sports the new chapeau? By voting, you can earn one of us bragging rights that will last all season. And we'll choose one voter at random to receive a free Homestead flower bouquet some time later in the season. Voting is now closed. Claire won.

Well, here we go again...

Friends of The Homestead: the first seeds get planted in the nursery on Monday! An exciting yet scary thought for me...I think I'll be ready, but as I write this the new nursery bench is only half finished. While Vanessa had been on the coast doing her midwifery training all fall and winter, I've been mulling and working and mulling some more over this season's box program, making various improvements to our set-up, and watching our farm-budget strain under the pressure of our long list of equipment needs and wants.

It all adds up to a lot of anticipation for the coming season, and big plans for the box program. Stay tuned for news about that, and a lot of other stuff we've got planned for this year.

See you soon!

--Jordan

New Nursery