Asparagus Ho! Part II

Quick update on our asparagus patch. This week we added the recommended four inches of mulch to discourage weeds and to maintain moisture. Baby asparagus need an inch of water per week. We kept this in mind when we chose our site, placing it within reach of a hose. We put together a fancy irrigation system, even though it finally rained.

There’s a very pretty pole barn on the farm that stores huge bales of straw for one of the Real Farmers, the Old Order guy who grows corn out here for his dairy cows. These are giant bales, too monstrous for a person to move. I called him up and asked if we could buy a bale to use as mulch. He said he we could have it for free.

Bruce wrangled it to the asparagus patch with the tractor and we shook it apart and covered the bed.

A week and some rain later, we uncovered the rows to lay down the drip lines and–you know, see if anything was growing yet.

What does baby asparagus look like? Will it poke up like a fat shoot, or start off small, like blades of grass?

Was this grass? I looked closer at the straw we were using and realized with horror that it was chopped wheat straw, complete with wheat berries riddled all through it. The patch was bursting with tiny blades of wheat.

That’s not all. When we prepared the field we plowed under the fescue, let it sit to rot for a week, and then rototilled it in. That broke apart the grass clods. Rained on and covered with mulch, the roots were growing.

Not only that. We had learned from one of the Real Farmers that back in the day, our farm was known as the Johnson Grass Farm due to the prevalence of that pernicious weed in the pastures, and the carelessness of the previous owners in weed management. I’ve been on a campaign against Johnson grass ever since. Native to the Mediterranean, Johnson grass grows from rhizomes and a single plant can produce about 300 feet of rhizomes in a year.

There was quite a bit of Johnson grass in the field we plowed, and all those rhizomes got chopped up, rained on, and covered in mulch. They were having–a hay day, if you will.

No asparagus for our efforts, but we did seem to be growing plenty of other stuff.

Also this week: when we sent the boys out on their own to do the evening chores, they came back with this.

A cat was not in our plans. Bruce and I had come to an agreement that we would not even get a dog until we had moved from our house in town to the farm. A cat wasn’t even part of the discussion. This little tortoiseshell was close to starving when they found her next to a fence post. They checked in with the neighbors who didn’t know anything about her, but generously contributed some PetLac from another abandoned farm kitten they had already taken in. Then they brought her home, fed her, bought some kitty litter, and installed her in the upstairs bathroom.

What’s a parent supposed to do? Name her Reba, perhaps, as was suggested by a friend.

Also this week: more irrigation solutions? All will be explained in due course–stay tuned!