Moon Dog Farms

Certified Naturally Grown family farm cultivating fruits, vegetables, flowers & pastured eggs in the Texas Gulf Coast

MoonDog Farms is dedicated to stewardship of the land, reinforcing a healthy community and producing great food.  

"Thwwwwwiick..."

The week began with a loaded truck bed and ended with a farmer marooned in the middle of the field, stuck in sticky mud, laughing maniacally. The time had finally come, the moment we'd been waiting on for what seems like months. Transplant Day.  

The Mighty Mitzi boasts a a lush green haul.

The Mighty Mitzi boasts a a lush green haul.

 Truly, it became more like Transplant Week due to daily thunderstorms and various mini-crises of the normal sort.  But we got it done. Broccoli, cabbage, brussels sprouts, kale and cauliflower all found their separate little leases on the Fall field and have already begun to sigh and spread their roots. 

Baby broccoli on its way... 

Baby broccoli on its way... 

Of course, none of it happened as I envisioned, in the measured and efficient way detailed in our staff meeting early Monday morning. You'd think I'd have already begun a tradition of buddying up any to-do lists or similar declarations with asterisks* reminding me

"this very likely will not happen this week. Or next week. You can start thinking about it now, just don't get too attached. And when it does happen, it won't look like you thought it would. Just sayin'."

But I don't. I always try to outsmart the asterisk.

 Hopefully as I grow older I'll manage to balance the lofty ambitions with recalling the asterisk clause more often. I'd never get anything done if I didn't make those big goals, but that little eight-limbed guy will always be there--in the farming world and this whole being-a-human business.

While the watermelon vines quiver in proximity, Alex flame-weeds the last pesky weeds from a bed before a brussels sprouts planting.

While the watermelon vines quiver in proximity, Alex flame-weeds the last pesky weeds from a bed before a brussels sprouts planting.

Little Army worm, lying  in wait.

Little Army worm, lying  in wait.

However, we did have one of those glorious farm work days that felt like we were powered by the soil beneath our feet. The day seemed to go on forever and our energy and accomplishments felt nearly as inexhaustible.  

There was weeding and weeding to be done, the glorious transplanting itself, compost tea concoctions to be brewed and sprayed on said glorious transplants, large items to be moved (somehow, it feels like every week includes some large item that needs moving, or at least contemplating), electric fencing to be installed and the disconcerting discovery/identification of some very potentially scary pests as well as the joyful discovery of oodles of earthworms.

( Attention Army worms, this go-round we're not wasting time on your nonsense...expect a very inhospitable environment in your future.) 

So many earthworms were found while transplanting our brussels sprouts! Yay!

So many earthworms were found while transplanting our brussels sprouts! Yay!

And of course, there was rain. Although the puddles that form in our field's aisles frustrate us and slow us down (and lead to me actually getting stuck and unable to move my feet), it means we're not dry. We have rain, and that's a beautiful, lucky thing. If only I could send some of those drops to our pals in other parts of the state.  

Plus, you haven't lived until you've heard the hilarious"ttttthwwwwwwick" sound when you finally pull a fully-submerged shoe from the mud.

Maybe it's the rural living, but that's damn funny.

www.moondogfarms.com
McFarmer is soaked!

McFarmer is soaked!

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