I'm an apple nerd

Some of you may think, given my former background, that I'm talking computers here. And in fact, that would normally be a good guess. I wouldn't blame you. But as this is a blog about self-sustainability, well, it's not necessarily a good fit is it? (unless you're talking about hooking up solar cells to power your MacBook, now that would be cool - ed.).

No, I'm talking about those small, round shellacked orbs that we often take for granted when we're perusing the aisles of a grocery store.

Merriam-Webster defines the apple as -

1: the fleshy usually rounded red, yellow, or green edible pome fruit of a usually cultivated tree (genus Malus) of the rose family; also : an apple tree

I define it as one of my favorite fruits to not only eat, but to also cook with. Apple butter, apple sauce, apple pie, apple cobbler, spiced apple cake, fried apple pies, dried apples, apple strudel . . . I could go on and on.

Problem is that most of what you get in a store is rubbish. Sorry, but it's true. Commercial apple growers have narrowed our field down to three specific varieties: Red Delicious (red), Golden Delicious (yellow), and Granny Smith (green). Yep, we've gone that simple - red, yellow, and green.

That's not to say that you can't find some other varieties in there somewhere. Most people know the names Fuji, Gala, Pink Lady or perhaps Honey Crisp. However, such varieties as Ashmead's Kernel, King David, Arkansas Black, Albemarle Pippin, etc. have fallen out of favor with commercial growers and we suffer for it.

Instead what we get is a bland, mealy, homogeneous group of mediocre apples that seem to last forever in your crisper bin.

Well, I'm over it. Have been for a while. I remember getting beautiful apples on family trips to Vermont back when I was a kid in the 70s. What I wanted was that type of apple, that crisp-tart-yet-sweet-firm apple experience. (And also those apple cider donuts - oh man, those were the bomb)

So we took some classes, a lot of them which I will discuss later in this blog at some point, and now I've become an apple nerd. I can't help it. I love talking apples. I love eating them. And I'm in the process of growing them.

And in my usual way, I've gone off track here. What I wanted to tell you about is the rare (old-fashioned) Winesap that I found growing down the street.

Simple short story really:

We walk our dogs every morning. About 6 weeks ago, Bailey our golden retriever, started picking up half eaten apples out of our neighbor's yard. Originally I thought some kid has just thrown away an apple from their lunch and Bailey with his astute sense of smell just happened across it. When he started picking up rotten apples every day I became suspicious. I never saw where he got the apples from because I never paid attention. Finally, my other neighbor who happened to be walking with us one day told us that our neighbor had apple trees and that on any given day you could see the deer having a small party under them. (Remind me to blog about the deer at some point.)

Anyhow, sure enough, our neighbor had 3 trees loaded with apples. When I asked if we could pick some, our neighbor was more than happy to oblige although she didn't know what type of apple they were. The trees were already here before they build their house in the 60s. They didn't prune them nor did they spray them. They just left them. (Note: West Leigh was developed on an old farm site from the 1800s)

I wasn't too worried about the lack of information. I didn't know what they tasted like, I didn't know much at all, but we went ahead and pick some for apple butter. And by some, I mean alot. Here are some pictures:

A bowlful of the better looking ones

Imagine my surprise, when they were not just tasty, but actually amazingly delicious! Crisp-tart-yet-sweet-firm plump spheres of juicy goodness. Yes, some were ugly and pitted due to lack of spraying, but the quality of fruit was extremely high.

Well, we decided right away that we were going to graft from these trees for our orchard, but it was driving me nuts not knowing what type of apple they were. Surely the tastiest apple I'd had in years couldn't be a complete mystery?

There is one person who is probably the top expert in apples on the East Coast and we're lucky to have him in the area - the apple professor himself - Tom Burford. If you ever get a chance to speak with him, do it while you still can. Tom is in his 80s not that you'd ever know it.

The Apple Professor, Tom Burford

As my husband will attest to, I am Tom's number one fan. Not only have I taken several courses with him but I've also quite happily stalked him around the apple circuit this year going to several events just to seek him out. Perhaps not necessary as we converse via email anyhow as Tom is helping us put in our orchard, but I absolutely love him to bits. There is something about his vivacious and charming personality that I find enticing. He's like the grandfather I never had - funny, witty, and extremely patient when it comes to teaching his craft.

So it was a no brainer to bring the mysterious apple to him. And as luck would have it (and I swear I wasn't stalking him that day), we ran into him at Vintage Virginia Apples when going to speak with Chuck Shelton about apple varieties. And I just happened to bring several specimens of the MA (mysterious apple) with me:
And you know what?

I got a gold star! I had found an old-fashioned Winesap. Yay me!

You see, most of the Winesaps available via nurseries these days are a relatively new strain/variety that is a pale imitation of the older varieties hence "old-fashion". The older varieties are known for their tartness, their keeping qualities, and for being slightly larger than something like a Stayman Winesap. I think that the old fashioned may be immune to cedar apple rust as well, but I'm not sure. I'm no expert yet, especially with Winesaps, as there are so many strains, but either way, I was impressed by this apple.

And I wasn't the only one - so was Tom and Chuck. I think VA Apple may even graft from the scion wood next year, which just goes to show you how good of an apple it is.

So I've done my good apple deed for the year. Who knows? Maybe at some point you might be buying one of my "found" old-fashioned Winesaps from your local nursery.
 

We took a goat class

Jon making new friends

Yep, you wouldn't be the first one to boggle at this. In fact, my fabulous friend Elizabeth was like, "You're doing what exactly?" To which I replied, "A class. You know . . . goats."  I should've known this would amuse Elizabeth to no end. As it was, I got a voicemail from her later that day with her bleating "baaaaaaaaaaaah" down the phone at me. Only Elizabeth would have the bravado to do so.

So before I start telling tall tales about Elizabeth's priors, I should get back to the topic at hand - said goat class. Lots of people are probably wondering how we came across a class on goats. It was in a roundabout way really.

At the Heritage Harvest festival this year, we ran into some people from the Blue Ridge Permaculture Network. While at the stand coveting all sorts of cool hippie stuff including a home-made solar dehydrator and rocket stove, I decided to put my name on their mailing list. For me this was me being magnanimous. In general, I loathe mailing lists especially when you start receiving the paper version in the post (if I wanted to kill some trees, trust me, I'm happy to go out in my yard with a pair of loppers - ed.)

I didn't think anymore about it until I got my first mailout. It had inadvertently ended up in my junk folder and I had planned on keeping it that way, but as I was procrastinating on writing my next chapter I had a quick look. It turned out to be a veritable cornucopia of events/classes/lectures that hit the sweet spot. Including said goat class. Here was the blurb:

Want to learn about what's involved in keeping miniature dairy goats (which were recently legalized in Charlottesville)?

The Charlottesville Goat Justice League has organized an urban goat keeping workshop at Dragon Hill Farm in Scottsville next Saturday, Oct. 9, 2-4:30pm, rain or shine. Wear farm-friendly clothes and bring a folding chair.

$20/person with pre-registration, $25/person at the farm. To pre-register, make check out to Dragon Hill Farm for $20/person and mail to Meghan, P.O. Box xxx, Cville, 229xx For more information, please contact Meghan at 434-293-xxxx ormxxxxxx@gmail.com.

Everyone who pre-registers will receive 2 free bags of shavings from Tractor Supply.  There will be other  door prizes donated by Whole Foods, Rebecca's, and Fifth Season.  

I mean who could pass up something that a) had been illegal and b) came with 2 free bags of wood shavings? I didn't know what on earth I would do with said shavings, but I'm always a sucker for freebies.

In addition to the two of us, we roped in our neighbor Themis who is already a goat aficionado (his uncle owns over 200 goats in Cypress). I'm not 100% sure why he took the class unless it was to placate me (I can be pushy imagine that.)

So, alright already what about the class?

Well, although I was freaked out that goats have the eyes of Satan, they were in fact very lovable and friendly creatures. If you will, a dog with horns. And they were cute, not too smelly, and generally well-mannered citizens of the barnyard.

Some things about goats that I didn't know:

• Goat's milk tastes just like full fat cow's milk
• Miniature Nigerians have a higher butter fat content than standard dairy goats
• Unlike popular belief, goats shouldn't eat just anything - There are tons of plants/foliage that are poisonous
• Goats have to be vaccinated once a year & get rabies and distemper boosters like dogs
• Does have to be impregnated every couple of years to keep milk standards high

And lastly, it's not cheap to keep goats. You can't just let them roam and eat grass. They need grain like other barnyard animals. So expect to spend $100/month to keep 2 miniature goats.

After finding out about the last part, it didn't really make a lot of sense for us to have goats. The amount of milk and cheese that they could provide and that we could sell would be substantially less than what it costs to maintain them every year. People seem to either keep them as a hobby/pet and/or breed them (selling buck and doe kids). Neither of those options really appealed to us. After all, the objective of the SSB is to be as self-sufficient or self-reliable as possible on the amount of land we currently own.

Final thought: it's highly unlikely that we will get goats.

Yet, the class was invaluable for giving us the knowledge to come to this decision so it was a worthwhile endeavor regardless. And if nothing else, I learned how to milk a goat.

Me milking a real goat

Colony Collapse Culprit Found?

Honey bee covered in pollen

I wasn't going to post today, but I came across an article that I felt was newsworthy enough to blog about (Thanks Guy Hammond!). The article is from the NY Times.

As someone who's going to be starting her own hives shortly in the spring, CCD has always been in the back of my mind. Will I get it? Will my bees one day suddenly disappear? How will I know if it's a swarm or CCD? (I'm assuming in CCD, the queen is still in the hive with drones, just no workers).

It's up there with Varroa mite infestion in terms of worry. And I like to worry. Alot.

Anyhow, I was intrigued to see the article in the NY Times talking about a possible viral/fungus combo that may be the primary suspect for CCD. Almost as intrigued about the idea of the army and academics combining forces to squish bees for research. I'm not so keen on the squishing but understand why it has to be done. Something like 85% of our food production in this country requires the honey bee for pollination. So, yeah, it's a big deal.

The thing that was a bit of a downer was the part about them not being 100% sure that it's causing CCD, but rather, it's another suspect. I guess this is probably a bit of ass covering going on, and I can see why they say that. However, it's a good sign that they only find this combo in colonies with CCD so maybe we're finally getting somewhere before it becomes too late.