I could listen to this rain fall on the cathedral of maples outside my window forever. I think there is nothing in all the world more soothing than rain. I get lost in it, the sound, the smell. Rain and heat and plants are our industry, but also our love.
My love for rain makes me an adequate farmer, the same way love for baseball might help form an adequate baseball player. But respect and careful study – now that is the ticket – if I had a more analytical approach I could be more than an adequate farmer, I could be a good farmer.
A good farmer knows how much rain fell yesterday and how much will fall tomorrow and what that means for each crop. I just stare, thoughtless, all caught up.
Marina and Dylan are a bit sharper than me and they understand what rain really means on the farm. Like, for instance, they made sure that this year our tomatoes were tucked into the hot tunnels of hoophouses so that we could control their watering.
Once they are putting on fruit tomatoes do well with an hour’s worth of watering at the root level every day. You don’t water the actual plants because it increases their chance of developing blight – which is a fungal thing to begin with. We use a soaker hose and a $30 timer we bought at Lowes that is powered by two double-A batteries thanks to a tip from local wizard Ed at Ledgewood Farm.
Also, tomatoes blow up when they get to stand in the rain like an adequate farmer. They suck up all that juice and the fruits go splitsville on you, so a controlled environment is best.
We ate our first tomato and cucumber salad last night, so they are coming. But they are not here this week. What a tease huh? I am sorry, I must have spaced out listening to the rain.
I hope you enjoy this week’s share and thanks for all the positive feedback.
Pints of tiny beets (best roasted)
Summer squash and zucchini
Boothby Blonde and pickling cucumbers
Old Wells Farm