I have planted
trees over the years, and I have gardened. This is all relatively new to me, and I'm stoked but also somewhat overwhelmed and scattered. The area that I have always gardened is about an acre in size, give or take. It lies NW of the house about 20 yards out. The area where I have planted trees is out in front of the house (east) and is about five acres or so, I guess - maybe a bit less -and has a mix of trees from longleaf and slash pines, burr oaks, live oaks,
ash, redbud and others to fruit trees such as peaches, pears, plums and such. My father is OLD SCHOOL, and he's got a little dementia creeping up now at 85. It severely disturbs his Wah to not keep the Bermuda grass around the Turrentine Natl Forest out front mowed like a billiard table. I used to like that myself, even wishing some of the trees out front didn't have such low limbs to slap my face as I mowed with the
tractor around them. Over the last year or so I floated the idea by him of creating paths among the trees out front and planting around the trees with
native plants and edibles, rather than mowing it flat all the time. He rejected that outright and screwed up his face in such a way that I figured it'll take quite a bit more work to bring him around.
Dad was an executive in a defense firm for thirty years or so, and he's a little to the right of Brother John Birch in some ways. It is difficult to make a dent in the paradigm that governs his thinking on aesthetics and functionality and, well, everything else.
So what I'm left with presently is converting the garden acre into a food forest of sorts and letting the results guide me in my efforts to expand that notion outward to the rest of the farm.
Our place is shaped a bit like Oklahoma with the panhandle portion being the acre or more that extends down to the banks of the Brazos River just west of Weatherford. I could do whatever I like with the river property as well, for that matter, though it floods periodically every few years or so.
Needless to say we've had some dry years around the farm recently, and it sometimes gets as hot as 110F at the worst of times. It also gets a little cooler down by the river in winter than it would elsewhere in the county. Along the west side of the garden acre is a low area that has developed over the years as a result of my plowing. I figure I can take advantage of my former ineptness (
permaculture principles at work there) and create a
Hugelkultur in that space for starters. We have a good many pecan trees around the place that were grafted back in 1927, and they drop a lot of limbs now and then - more often lately as a result of the drought, I think. I've been dragging a few of those limbs over to that
Hugelkultur area and even stealing some of the old fireplace logs dad has on the north side of the house that are too big for him to use without me splitting them for him. I need to stop that for now and get the area dug out a bit, I think, in order to accommodate an actual Hugelkultur as I've seen it done here and elsewhere online. I've considered renting one of those tiny backhoes perhaps, though I'd feel like I had more cred if I dug it all out with a shovel.
Something has bothered me this morning while I was watching one of Paul's lecture vids over breakfast. He mentioned that watering trees negates their inclination to send down good taproots and makes them dependent upon
irrigation forever after. This past summer I didn't water the trees we had planted the previous autumn, partly because of sloth and partly from intervening circumstance beyond my control. Well, that all died. All my paw-paws, plums, peaches, quince, pear, etc. Everything except a cedar elm and a handful of oaks and such perished from drought, and also because the plague of grasshoppers ate every leaf off of everything that was under a certain age on the farm.
What I'm gathering as I read is that I have a few possible solutions, only some of which I can employ for the trees I have on order at the moment that are due to arrive in the next few weeks.
First and foremost I can create Hugelkulturs everywhere, but at least in the one spot in the garden I've already mentioned. I trust that these may solve at least some of my water issues for trees.
I cage my trees when they're very young, and I can wrap those cages with scraps of row cover that I've used for my winter gardens in the past over greens and such. This
should help with the grasshopper problem.
One long, low area to the north of the garden could be converted into a
pond, though this is currently quite beyond my ken and has the potential to be something of a boondoggle, if I know my personal history with projects well
enough.
I can begin to plant trees by seed rather than mail-ordering 18-24" seedlings online as I've been accustomed to doing. I'm not sure why I think this will make a dramatic difference, but, again, I'd like to have some cred. I don't want to buy my way into
permie status. I couldn't if I really wanted to anyway, given that I live most of the time in abject penury and prefer to remain that way, oddly enough.
I do have incidental plantings that occur by accident, such as the greens coming up in the north
yard right now from the area where me and a friend were making seedballs for our eco-terror projects back in Dallas. I don't mow there, and I try to repeat those accidents elsewhere as well.
As an aside, I periodically scatter seeds into planters here in the Oak Cliff section of Dallas as I walk the dog during work hours. There is a restaurant full of hipsters a block from my office that has cacti growing in planters outside. It's full of greens I planted over time, though they occasionally pull them up when they get big and healthy looking. I was walking by the other day and plucked some kale out of it and shoved it in my mouth as I went by with my dog Otis and a friend of mine. I quickly realized that there were tiny cactus hairs all over it. My mouth just healed up the other day.
Anyway, I'm planning on planting the paw-paws, or some of them, and perhaps a few of the native fruit trees in the garden acre this month and planting or seed-balling around them as I go, staying away from the Hugelkultur area in the process, and starting the food forest there.
Dad just called me here at the office to let me know he's still alive and well after a day without me going to the farm. I mentioned all this to him, and he chuckled. He thinks I'm a bit of a wingnut, but he humors me.
That is the farm report for November 13, 2012.
This is the garden area:
I feel a little guilty about churning up all that wonderful sandy loam over the years now.
So now I guess it'll look like a moundy jungle if I do it right.