Phil's Workshop with Our Orchard Hero

Friday was over 80. After much of a week of rain, the humidity was unpleasant. I am thankful it's not like that often.

And the flies came out in force for the first time. After months of leaving fried rice uncovered from breakfast to lunch, it was a jolt to remember that, no, that isn't a prudent idea in the warm months of the year. Little fly eggs are recognizable and too disgusting to contemplate.

Thankfully, I had a pretty good evening, and had the energy to clean the kitchen. Ha! There's not much for flies to eat in a clean kitchen.

Phil has been burning the midnight (or 2am) oil on various engineering projects, which means he needs to catch up on sleep during the day. Nevertheless, he laid two courses of blocks on Friday. He has something like eight corners to do each time, with the various window and door openings, so none of the block laying is quick. He's hopeful that another two or three days will finish those final six courses and get the lintels placed.

Friday night, a freak gust of wind came out of nowhere. It was uncanny, to be washing dishes in quiet and peace and suddenly have a gust shake the RV and knock down the awning. Usually there's some prelude to such violence, but not this time.

Saturday night we were getting ready to go and milk, watching storm clouds head our way. The storm broke right as we headed out, and it made me laugh to see how much smarter the calves are now. When they were born, they stood in the rain, drenched, while their little covered corner went unused. Today, I brought out the milk and neither calf made any move to come and drink. They stayed under their covered pen and stared at me like I was insane. "Who cares if it's time to eat? We want to be dry, unlike you, crazy lady." (The rain did taper off shortly, so I could have waited and spared myself the trouble.)

But the exciting news was that Phil went to a workshop at a local apple orchard that had brought in our apple orchard hero, Michael Phillips, author of The Holistic Orchard, The Apple Grower, and, with his wife, The Herbalist's Way. Farmers who do apples and herbs: I want to be them. (Of course, I also want to be Doug Flack of Vermont, who does milk and Milking Devons and fermented vegetables. And I wouldn't have minded being Joel Salatin, with his cow/chicken/rabbit/egg operation. Or Mark Shepard and his large scale permaculture farm.)

After numerous workshops where Phil comes home to say, "Well, that was okay," it was fabulous to have him come home and say, "That was worth it. I'm glad I went." He enjoyed meeting some of the other class participants and enjoyed the time in the field. He came away quite encouraged that we are doing well thus far, and with ideas to both improve and just to carry on for the future.

One of the amazing things: Michael Phillips loves comfrey and stinging nettles (both of which I have now!). He plants them at year two or three. In those early years, he heaps on hay and ramial wood chips (those made from small diameter branches, and so vibrant with recent life, unlike larger trees with more woody matter). When it's time to plant, he simply pushes the earth aside and drops in the comfrey root.

Having planted 10,000 daffodils in hard clay, the idea of planting so simply and easily both inspires and makes me gnash my teeth. How simple we could have made it for ourselves! (Maybe.)

Phil's favorite part: if the nutrition in the orchard is high, orchard pests are not a problem. We haven't read much in Michael Phillips books about orchard pests. The workshop covered them in greater depth, but it was hopeful to see that it might not be a problem, as long as we keep increasing fertility.

I had considered going, but am glad, on balance, that I didn't. Abraham wasn't feeling well, and I took an unexpected three hour nap in the afternoon. Pregnancy continues to wipe me out.