Homegrown Revival: First Completed Season at Red Barn Community Farm

As the days get shorter and the harvest peters out, I can look back at our first completed season at Red Barn Community Farm with pride, humility, and some exhaustion. Caera and I worked hard on our 40'x40' plot, building six 4'x16' beds out of cinder blocks and wood, starting a bed for the hoop house, completing an entirely enclosed 16'x16' space for our berry patch, hauling in soil (that was an adventure in and of itself), amending the soil with compost and a fertilizer blend we mixed based on Steve Solomon's recommendation from Growing Vegetables West of the Cascades, and planting lots and lots of seeds and starts. Over the summer, we also acquired a 275-gallon water tote, which we elevated for future use in a drip irrigation system. We had wanted to fence off our entire plot, as the deer were a persistent problem, but we couldn't get the materials fast enough. Nonetheless, despite our battles with deer, bugs, supply transportation, materials cost, out-of-control weeds, a summer-long drought, and a brutal wind storm, we had quite an impressive harvest.

Let's take a look:


Jami riding the tractor.	Working the soil was tough, but we had a good attitude.


After many ridiculous trips back and forth between our home and the plot with buckets full of soil stuffed into our sedans, a friend let us borrow his truck to finish the job.	We hauled a lot of soil. Here we're in the process of filling up the berry patch.


Making soil angels in a half-built raised bed.	Fours beds complete, and starting to fill them...


Beds are finished, and seeds and starts are in the ground.	That's the berry patch in the background, and this bed with tomato starts will eventually be inside a hoop house.


Finished berry patch with chicken wire fencing, bird netting, and a simple PVC pipe gate.	Why do we need so much fencing? This is why. Unfortunately we put the berry plants in the ground before the fence was finished. The deer ate the developing fruit and a lot of the branches. They don't even care about proper pruning technique!


This is my sweetie Caera. She's very happy after supporting the LWIT plant sale.	This is Caera's first large-scale attempt at growing food. We're stoked to be working on it together.


The start of our flower bed.	Our flower bed took off! The pollinators loved it, and we brought home so many bouquets of cut flowers.


Our kitchen alter to the Irish goddess Airmed, with flowers and food from the plot.	Strawflowers have become a staple in my flower gardens. Xerochrysum bracteatum for the win!


Well-used moving boxes from last year. I think their final destination is appropriate: suppressing weeds in between our raised beds, decomposing into the earth.	Gooseberries that became deer snacks.


I set up two propagation stations in the laundry room.	Emerging seedlings.


The house we're renting came with a greenhouse. A lot of these plants were are from last year, and were neglected a bit while I was moving all the time. To my surprise, a lot of stuff came back.	A nice little pot of yarrow came back.


I thought all my perennials were goners after last year's moving chaos, but the Pagan Purples Delphinium popped up in the spring. Love the color.	I grafted my first apple tree during my 2013 hort class. Since then it's sadly remained unpruned, a bit neglected, and moving around from place to place in a pot. This year it started to fruit, and I let it just for funzies.


My boss at Ironwood gave me some mystery daylilies in the spring. Score! Don't they look delicious? I mean pretty?	I brought home some columbine for my sweetie. We grew it in a pot that's visible from our bedroom window.


Backyard pots.	Since this isn't our own property, we aren't able to do much landscape design. Container gardening is our compromise.


Back at the plot, we upgraded our two 55-gallon rain barrels to one 275-gallon water tote elevated four feet above the ground. My intention next year is to hook up a drip irrigation system.	My tomato bed turned into a hedge. Once again, this is what happens when you don't prune or stake your tomatoes.