As an ex-townie it surprised me how many conversations here concern fences. I’m learning about fences though. When I tried to follow potatoes with brassicas for winter, no sooner were my seedlings planted than rabbits (who ignored the poisonous potatoes) ripped them out.
It’s not just rabbits, chooks strip vege patches bare. We thought a “raised” bed would deter them. They had the bed raked clean within hours of my first planting. Two-strand wire didn’t deter them. Now we have chicken wire on stout uniposts, and so far it’s working…
As a townie, I naïvely thought farm fences kept animals in. Deer fencing is tall because deer jump, cattle fences are low but strong because that keeps cattle in… The neighbour’s bull taught us differently. He visited our steers, teaching them to fence-crash. Watching a half-tonne steer clear a gate and charge off into the wild green yonder, you know fences encourage animals to stay home. They cannot make them.
An electric outrigger may stop cattle, but electric doesn’t work with sheep. For a year or so, nine wire with battens seemed enough, our little flock stayed home. Till Harry, our Wiltshire wether, got spooked. We’re not sure how he did it. He jumps well, but he’s a heavy hogget, and he’s pretty big, so could he squeeze between tight wires?
As I’ve learned, I’ve become more ambitious, from touching up fences with electric wires to building my own. A big flat paddock divided in two. Beau, our Arapawa ram, had other ideas. He took a dislike to the gate post. First he dislodged the stay, then the post itself (helped by all that tension on the wires) was easily butted into submission.
Actually it’s no wonder conversations keep turning to fences…
Different people grow their own vegetables, or fruit, for different reasons. For some it’s crispness and taste, nothing beats tender garden-fresh salads, “truss tomatoes” from the shop can’t quite capture the vivid fresh smell and taste of ones ripened outside your window. Others like to know they are not eating chemicals, or at least what chemicals they are eating. There’s also the satisfaction of knowing that you are providing for your own basic needs.
Likewise everyone has different ideas of scale. Some start small, a pot or two of lettuces and parsley on the deck, or even window-sill. Others are extremists. A couple of years before “The Good Life”, I dug up the lawns of our small-town quarter-acre, and planted a huge range of veges.
Whatever your reasons, and whatever the scale of your “plot”, sharing ideas, triumphs and failures helps. Back in the 70s, I learned so much and avoided many silly mistakes by listening to the “old guy” across the road who had been growing his own since before the war.
It still helps to chat with others, and since our climate (We reckon it’s 2 degrees cooler than Barkes Corner, where we are. What’s your estimate?) and soil are different from what they have in town, it makes sense to meet others locally. That’s why the “Food Growers Group” that we have been part of for a couple of years now was started. As well as sharing ideas and experience over a cuppa monthly, we get to see other people’s patches, and we often share seedlings as well as failures and successes. It’s a great idea and worth doing elsewhere.