No Monsoon!?

Gallup: "Abnormally Dry"

Official government validation of what my water tanks have already told me; the soaking monsoons of July and August never arrived in my canyon this year (3.66" below normal YTD according to KOB-TV Channel 4). The USDA publishes a monthly drought index and map of the state. The western portion of Mckinley County is categorized as Abnormally Dry, the first ranked stage before 4 stages of drought.  Rain fell often in the higher mountains in July, but no soaking moisture has fallen on my garden since the second week of June (0.8"). Scarcely, 100 gallons of rainwater collected in my cisterns during the past two months. My dry-land farmed row of white hopi corn is stunted and withering--starkly different than my drip irrigated rows of the same planting, and the garden has been surviving on minimal waterings as I watch the cumulus clouds build fruitlessly each afternoon in anticipation of something more than shade. And yet, nothing. 

Hopefully, the growing El Nino in the Pacific will bring us a strong storm track this winter. 

Gallup Farmers' Market

August 29th Gallup Farmers' Market

Get there early!  I rode down to the Gallup Farmers' Market shortly after The Splendid Table ended this morning. Earlier than I usually get down there. And good thing; many of the greens were sold out before the market even opened at 8:30!

An $8 bag of local groceries

 

Nestled in the morning shade of the downtown walkway on Coal St., a half-dozen growers were set-up when I rolled in at 8:15. A line had already formed at the Serendipity Farms (Pinehaven)table, and the last of the mixed lettuce was being rationed out, so I decided to start at the Work-in-Beauty CSA table. They had great looking swiss chard and bountiful large zuccs. I bought a bunch of chard with 4 of the 32 quarters I brought with me today.  Next to them were the Vanderwagon couple selling sourdough, white, and honey-oat loaves; all baked using home-milled flour from our local breadbasket region of Cortez, CO. I bought a $4 loaf of the sourdough and was excited to hear that they have found a local source of wheat from Ramah. They also sell really neat planters made from recycled car tires. Finally, I joined the line for Serendipity's produce, with an eye on their fat carrots and beets; both crops fell to grasshoppers in my garden this year. The salad greens were long gone ($4/gal. bag), but they still had a couple bunches of beets, carrots, turnips, and chard remaining when I passed over my final quarters. Two more people in line behind me indicated that the Douglass's would be sold-out before 9 am. Get there early!

This August 3rd Gallup Independent article has general information on the regional farmers' markets and some of Brian Leddy's great photos.

NM Local Organic Chicken Feed

Raising hens for egg production has steadily become part of my daily routine over the past several years-- my current flock of 5 hens lay about 2 1/2 dozen eggs per week. But, i've always thought about the ethical compromises I make by buying my chicken feed from the great local guys at Navajo Feed and Seed on Gallup's north-side. The thing is, it's Purina brand Layena pellets ($18/50lbs)--50 lbs lasts about 4 weeks with green compost from the kitchen.  It's not produced locally, nor is it organic. And so I was really excited to see this advertisement in the August 09 edition of the La Montanita Co-op Newsletter.  

The Co-op's food-shed distribution system will pick up the feed in Northern NM and deliver it to the Gallup branch of La Montanita on the regular weekly truck. Whether your buying higher protein egg-layer feed or scratch feed, a mix of grains like corn, milo, rice, etc.-- candy to chickens -- the price is 80% higher than the Purina stuff. Damn. But it is local AND organic AND supports the Co-op. Triple whammy! I'll have to order some. And i'm really interested to see if any increases in the quality/efficiency of the feed --like buying good dog food; they eat/poop less-- make this local, planet-friendly alternative to Purina Layena any more attractive.

From My Garden: Summer Asparagus?

An August shoot of asparagus

Asparagus is one of the most time-sensitive crops in my garden. For 6 weeks in the late spring, muscular shoots draw moisture from the snow-melt still stored in the soil and force their way upward to find light. These pale white shoots, supple enough to eat raw, emerge through even the driest, crusty clay soil. When they do find sunlight, nutrients stored in the large perennial root force the shoots to green and grow rapidly. Each day, shoots can grow 6 inches or more, and the folded triangular bracts common at the tip of asparagus start to elongate into branches with the growing stalk. If you miss the harvest for a even a single day, the stalk turns woody, and unharvested, these shoots grow into a 3-5' fern-like plant.

Feathery 'leaves' and flowers of mature asparagus

Life cycle, meet farmer. Mature plants are usually harvested for 4-6 weeks starting in late April in my shadowy canyon. My most productive asparagus bed was planted 15 years ago by previous owners of this lot and still has enough vigor to indicate at least another few productive years. A couple of years ago I also planted 40 root-crowns in my waffle garden of perennials. I've yet to harvest any shoots, but interestingly, this bed of young root stock has continued to produce new shoots throughout the summer. In contrast, the older asparagus bed thrives on the original stalks that are allowed to mature after harvesting ends in late May.

Gallup's Bee Finder, Beekeeper: Karl Lohmann

Karl invited Racheal and I over this week for a tour of his permaculture garden and beehives in the juniper hills of Gallup's outskirts. We came away inspired and more determined than ever to start keeping our own hive. And after our peek into the hives, Karl predicted the first good honey harvest in three years.

In the midday heat-- a preferred time for opening a hive -- Racheal and Karl donned the light fabric suits, mesh veils, and gloves common to beekeeping.  After using pine-straw smoke to calm the bees, we looked at honeycomb in the top two supers, separated from the brood supers below by a queen excluder. Karl quickly shed his gloves as he started working the hive, Racheal forgot to put hers on, and I risked it without a suit or veil. I did fine until the camera drew me in close and I forgot to watch where I was exhaling-- inviting a bee into a predictable pattern: "First they buzz you; then they bump you; then they sting you." Karl's words echoed in my head as a bee repeatedly bumped my head while we closed the hives back up. I started dancing. Lucky, that bee only got to second base and we all came away without a sting.

Karl simulating a forest fire

Karl has been beekeeping in Gallup for 20+ years. First learning the craft as his father's beekeeper's assistant-- a smart prerequisite, it seems, to beekeeping-- he's provided Gallup the valuable community services of swarm removal (bee finder, bee keeper), apprenticing new beekeepers, and occasionally maintaining community hives that fall into disrepair.

A frame full of capped honeycomb

People need bees, and honeybees need people now more than ever.  The unexplained Colony collapse disorder continues to decimate honeybee populations worldwide.  Backyard apiaries like Karl's are a first step to countering this decline and helping maintain genetic diversity in wild honeybee populations, in addition to the more obvious pollinating and honey-producing benefits. 

The amazingly busy bee space between frames.