meanwhile at Ravenna ...

Here's a pic of one of my apple trees. It's the Spitzenburg variety I'd mentioned earlier. I know it doesn't look so nice cramped up in chicken wire, but there are so many deer up there and young fruit trees are a delicacy for them. I'm also trying to encourage it to grow up, rather than out, so it will be less vulnerable to the varments later on.
And here are the grapes. Both doing well so far. Will there be concords on the table late this summer? That would be an unanticipated bonus.

Cascade hops, now sprouted, and hopefully will soon be climbing the string I laid out. The centennial hops has now also appeared.

trellis: done

There ya go. One grape trellis (for two plants), and yes, the ground looked just as overgrown as what is behind it before I started. This is at the site of my grandparent's place. I've gotten pretty adept at clearing, but you probably don't want to see all the briar scratches on my arms. I fortunately managed to get this project done before it started raining up there. The posts are 3 ft into the ground, and I dug out the areas in the middle where the grapes will grow, put down pea gravel for draining, some mulch for food, and piled the dirt back in.

I also prepared spots for apples. I had to gas up the chainsaw and cut down a few locust trees so there will be enough sun for them as the trees up there start filling out with leaves. Looks like Grimes Golden didn't work out. They're getting me Granny Smith instead. Tartness. April 9 is delivery day. Memo to self: get a sh#tload of cayenne pepper to sprinkle around to keep deer away (till it washes away). I'll have chicken wire as well, but the more the deterrance, the better.

Barley plants are starting to materialize. No word on when the hop rhizomes will be in.

This weekend I'll be starting potatoes in a barrel back home. I've got a couple of russets that are sprouting.

beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy

I'm temporarily skipping ahead to the present day. By way of another century.

People who know me well know that I have a lifelong love affair with beer. It started when I was four and an older cousin, as a joke, let me have a taste. Minutes later I was finishing off unclaimed beers at the family crab feast (we're all Marylanders on my dad's side). I don't think anyone realized this occurred until the ride home when my parents looked in the back seat and asked themselves "What's wrong with the boy?" My happiness was cut short by bewildered scolding and my many demands that we pull off the road so I could pee.

A few years ago, I began brewing my own, with good results. On a visit to my paternal ancestral town of Biedenkopf, Germany, I let slip over some Bosch that I was a brewer and was politely asked to restore the family presence there since the small town, which once boasted four breweries (like the one in the picture), was now utterly deprived. If someday there is a such a thing as a President Palin or President Cheney (what's Liz up to?), I'm going to have to keep that offer in mind.

I digress. This year, I obtained permission to plow up some land adjoining my trailer home at Ravenna to grow barley and hops. The do-it-yourselfer persona is excited with anticipation. OK, so I don't know how to actually malt barley ... yet. I've got a few months to figure that one out. But my first attempt to "grow my own beer" will serve as more blog fodder as the year progresses. I've already got the barley seed from Seeds of Change and I'm going to order the hop rhizomes today.