Close the loop

Yesterday I wrote that we have seven beds in our veggie garden for crop rotation. It is true we have seven beds but only six of them are in the rotation. The seventh is for our perennials, plants that will last longer than one season. Like everything in the Dairy it is small, but there is enough room for some rhubarb and about ten asparagus crowns, which should last over twenty years. We planted two year old crowns last year so now, three years old, they are ready to start harvesting. Asparagus stands out in my mind as what you eat when the winter vegetables have finished and before the spring vegetables are ready to harvest. An indulgent, necessary feast. The first spears are poking through the mulch, sniffing the air to see if the frosts have finished. We’re wondering too. Asparagus is a heavy feeder so if the frosts are over we will rake back the mulch and feed them heavily with blood and bone before covering them again. I will use the blood and bone because we still have some but I’m keen to try and use solely what we have on site. Close the loop. I think chook poo would work quite well, perhaps aged a little first so it’s not so hot.

I made Impossible Pie this morning using duck eggs and topped with three asparagus spears from the garden, my contribution to pot luck lunch with our friend’s who were going to show a few of us how to make pasta. Em made little citrus tartlets, sweet and delicious, and like my pie a good way to use up a few eggs.


Making your own pasta is one of those things that is hard to justify if you consider cost alone, as it is so cheap. But we spent such a delightful day, hanging out with friends, sharing a meal, kids playing together, listening to music, learning something new. Taking one more thing off the list that we have to make the long drive into town for. And we’re keeping alive the knowledge and skills of how to feed ourselves, using flour and our own organic eggs. The shops don’t stock what we made today.


“I’m grateful that we went to Chay and Pete’s and I eat a bit of that pasta.”
(Confused? Look)

Worm juice

Our garden has seven beds in it, set up for crop rotation. Today I weeded the potato bed which had peas, beans and brassicas in it last year, and will have carrots, parsnips and beetroot in it next year. The soil is rich and moist from the weeds that were protecting it. Worms abound. To weed it and leave it bare feels like I’m killing it. We are planning to plant potatoes soon and I’m going to add compost, manure and some lime, then cover it with mulch and give it time to break down, breed some life. The soil will also be inoculated with worm juice, made from steeping worm castings in water, not the black liquid that collects in the bottom of plastic worm farms. The worms have a symbiotic relationship with soil bacteria, both sowing and feeding on the microbes that also break down the organic matter and the still water is too anaerobic for the oxygen loving bacteria. More and more I think that good farming depends on good bacteria farming.

The castings are soaked, suspended in a drum of water with added carbon and nitrogen to allow the bacteria to colonise the water. Oxygen is also required so I will either have to stir vigorously for about an hour or get an aquarium pump. I’m planning to do trials, side by side in the veggie garden, testing whether I get better crops and improved resistance to disease with regular sprays of the worm juice. A test plot in the paddock is next.


I used the shredder today to break up the lemongrass we took out so I could add it to the final layers of the compost. I don’t feel great about using the shredder, using petrol to make compost. I’m not sure I’ll do it again, even though it works well for uncomposty material like lemongrass. The shredder is Sue and Rob's who have had it for years, Rob always maintaining it - sharpening the cutter, replacing the bearings.

I will have to add some more poo in the top layer. I’m really liking the soupy poo I'm experimenting with. Besides stinking it also makes a thick sauce that soaks right in to all the layers, making great conditions for the bacteria to feed and multiply, heating it up and transforming it.


We all worked in the garden today, getting things done, one job flowing on to the next, surprised to find later that we had gotten burnt. The garden needed some work. We neglected it last year in the push to get into the Dairy and then it was suddenly full of rampant kikuyu. We’ve spent months mustering up the energy to weed it, mulch the paths, reclaim it. Spring is almost here and we’re getting it ready to explode.

“I’m grateful that we all worked in the garden and had a nice day.”
(Confused? Look)