Hotbeds: 'tis the Season

I was recently trying to explain hotbeds to a young friend of mine and realized about an hour later that I did a horrible job. So I decided an explanatory blog post might be in order. I don't know if you'll ever see this, but M, this one's for you.

Spreading Cotton Trash

For those of you who frequent this regularly, and have heard me go on about hotbeds before, you might want to skip this one. For those of you who have no clue what I'm referencing, the farmers daughter in me is delighted to 'splain.

In case you didn't catch it, it's hotbed season. A hotbed is basically a temporary greenhouse we create each year to grow the shoots for planting. Here's how it works:

First a level bed is scraped into the dirt.

Sweet Potato "Cobblestone" 

Then cotton trash is spread on the bed and covered with more dirt. This is the insulation that helps keep things humid.

Next sweet potatoes kept from the previous harvest, known as seed, are laid down. Once a bed has been laid it ends up looking like a cobblestone, or brick road and another layer of soil is applied covering the potatoes.

Finally, bent metal rods are placed over the beds and covered with plastic. On one end the plastic is covered with dirt, on the other it's held down by sandbags. This allows the bed to be opened for watering and air movement.

The tricky thing is you don't want the hotbed to get too hot or two cold. Sweet potatoes are susceptible to freezing temperatures, however if things get too hot you can actually burn the plants and that's not good either.

Inside View

Which is why mid Sunday mornings find us opening the beds. My Dad doesn't have his guys work on Sunday which means it's up to us. Some years we've had to open and close more than others. The best is when you hear, "ends and windows" because it means less work.

To uncover the hotbeds you pull the sandbags off and roll the plastic placing a sandbag on top of the rolled plastic at the each end of the bed and two in the middle. This helps keep the plastic in place if a breeze kicks up. May I just add if you roll right, you feel it in your forearms!

To close them you take the sandbags off, flip up the plastic, cross to the other side of the bed, pull the plastic down to the ground, plant your foot on it and drag a sandbag on top. Usually about mid season you only have to place a sandbag other rod.

Over the years various friends have participated in joy of opening the hotbeds. As a kid it was especially great because that meant less work. Now that there are 4 adult children hotbeds have gotten less miserable and time consuming; what use to take an hour plus now takes about 45 minutes on a slow day.

Covered Hotbed

Hotbeds are also the reason we now go to Saturday night church because no longer does my Father have to worry about when to open the beds or them frying before we can get out there. (If you're used to attending service on Sunday, you find yourself going "No church? What am I gonna do?" But that's an entirely different conversation....)

Around 11ish on a Sunday all of us kids who are in town gather to help out. Doesn't matter how old you are, or what your normal job is, Sunday's, during hotbeds, mean helping out on the farm. 'Cause that's what families do.

I'll leave you with this brilliant "Irish blessing".

May the frost never afflict your spuds. 

May the leaves of your cabbage always be free from worms.

May the crows never pick your haystack.

If you inherit a donkey, may she be in foal. 

Oh and in case you're wondering, doesn't matter he's almost 60, when it comes to covering or uncovering hotbeds, Dad hands down, kicks our butts.

Battle Fields and Ice Cream: Iconic American Satuday

One week ago Knights Ferry had their Civil War reenactment. A friend told me about it so I could pass it along to my brothers. Turns out being in a Civil War reenactment was on a bucket list somewhere, so on Saturday Domi and Joey “joined up”. There weren’t any spare muskets, so they ended up as Confederate marines on cannon duty.  Not what they wanted but as Joey said, it made the experience authentic since that’s probably how things would have actually happened.

My sisters Suzi and Mary, Sophie, the above mentioned friend, and I showed up for the afternoon viewing. I must admit, battle field wise the terrain was much cooler than the flat open field of Fresno. Unfortunately because of the terrain and the covered bridge, (which we thought would make the battle way more “authentic" if they blew it up), we didn’t see our brothers or even know where they were until after it was all said and done.

After the battle we headed back to the rebel camp to find the boys and figure out what we wanted to do next. Sophie told us about an ice cream shop a short walk away in Knight’s Ferry, which finally gets us to the point of this entire blog. Since we’d been sitting in the sun, it was after 5 pm and no one had dinner we decided ice cream sounded great.

The ice cream shop was AWESOME! I got a wild blackberry Sunday, which was great except that it was served in a hot dog holder. I’ve never had ice cream served in a paper hot dog holder. Granted it was coated paper, but the sides aren’t high all the way around and it’s loaded with ice cream, hot fudge, nuts, two cherries and whip cream, it tends to drip. Thankfully there was no room inside the shop to eat, so we trooped outside, sat on the steps, and ate.

 As we sat there we watched an assortment of people drive or walk by. Some were still in costume so you knew they were civil war redactors, others I’d guess were locals, and then of course there were the park rangers. It hit me that for those 5-10 minutes, we were living the classic all American summer (or spring) evening.

Ice cream, porch steps, making observations as the traffic goes by. This may sound like no big deal to you, but when you grow up in the country you might eat ice cream you get from the freezer outside, but the most traffic you’re gonna get is the dog chasing a rabbit, or an occasional tractor going by. As a kid I always thought it would be cool to be able to walk or ride my bike to the store, get a scoop of ice cream and just hang out sitting on a curb, watching people as I ate. Last Saturday I got to do that, and this time my ice cream didn’t land in the dirt..

But you know the best part? My Sunday was $5.00 even. I cannot tell you how happy that made me. Everything there was exact change.  Got to love classic ‘murica.  

Best Medicine

When you're fighting a cold there's nothing like "Afternoon Tea" at work.

Thank you Emily for this afternoon's inspiration.